DF08 - The Night Killer (9 page)

Diane knew Frank was thinking the same thing. “No, I think I’m a former human rights investigator who has a very healthy, well-developed sense of justice and the presumption of innocence.”

David gave her a ghost of a smile. She knew he was with her on this one.

“Besides, Deputy Conrad could have asked me for the poncho if he thought its owner had anything to do with the crime. He didn’t,” she said. “Think of Star,” she added.

Star was Frank’s adopted daughter. She was unjustly accused of killing her parents, and many of her rights were trampled on in the process. She could have spent the rest of her life in prison, had it not been for Frank and Diane.

“In the meantime,” she said, “I told Deputy Conrad about the stranger and that he said he was camping in the national forest. I’m sure Travis will look for him.”

“Okay,” said Frank. “I was just interested in your line of reasoning.”

Diane took out her cell phone and handed it to David. “There are some pictures of the crime scene on here I’d like you to do the best you can with,” she said.

“Diane,” said Frank. “You can’t just take over the investigation.”

“I’m not. I’m preserving the scene as it was when I found it,” she said.

“You really don’t trust Leland Conrad, do you?” Frank said.

“Do you?” she shot back.

“No, I don’t. But he is the elected sheriff of Rendell County,” Frank said.

“I’ll share any information I discover,” Diane said.

“Leland will be really pissed,” said Izzy. “I don’t care for him either, but Frank’s right. Taking photographs of his crime scene . . . I don’t know.”

“Leland Conrad is a Luddite who treats the people who elected him like he owns them and knows what’s best for them. Diane may not have followed protocol on this, but she is right, nevertheless.”

Both Frank and Izzy looked at David for a moment. She knew they were torn. They didn’t think Diane should have kept anything from the sheriff, but they also agreed with David.

“Still,” said Izzy, “this will come back on you.”

“Okay,” said Diane. She turned to David. “Delete the photographs.”

“Well, don’t do that,” said Izzy. “I mean, you already have them. And, well, it’s not like you’ll post them on the Internet.”

“If I can bring any empiricism to bear on the investigation, I will. The Barres did not deserve what happened to them. They were very nice people. Jonas . . .” She stopped. A shock of horror went through her, giving her stomach a punch.

“What?” said Frank.

“It’s just that Jonas Briggs was supposed to go pick up the artifacts. If he had gone, the Barres would have asked him to spend the night because of the storm—like they did me. He would have probably stayed, and he would have been killed along with them,” she said. “It was pure luck that he had to go out of town.”

“And what if you had stayed?” said David.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have answered the door. Perhaps I would have heard something bad going down and done something about it. But I
wouldn’t
have stayed. I didn’t stay. I wanted to get back home.”

They were quiet for several moments. Might-havebeens were scary things.

“Jonas didn’t stay with them,” said Frank. “And he didn’t get killed with them. Don’t borrow fright. There’s going to be enough to worry about when Sheriff Conrad gets back and his son fills him in. He’s going to accuse you of either butting in on his jurisdiction, or protecting a killer, or both. You aren’t going to be able to investigate. He won’t allow you to ask questions in what he considers his county.”

“You know, Diane,” said Izzy, “this guy, the stranger, could be the killer. He was on—or at least near—the scene. And taking photographs in a thunderstorm is pretty weak. Liking him for the killer is not unreasonable.”

“I have to agree,” said Frank.

Diane was surprised when Jin agreed too. “I’m just saying, boss. That whole episode with the mysterious man in the forest was pretty strange. Of course, this whole thing is strange.”

“I was also at the scene,” said Diane quietly. “With your reasoning, I’m a much better suspect, because I was there and I have things of the Barres’ in my possession. Who’s to say I didn’t kill them and steal the artifacts? Sheriff Conrad might. That might make sense to him. If the stranger is the killer and there’s blood on these things”—she pointed to the evidence—“then I’m really screwed, because I’m in possession of the knife and poncho, and he took my jacket, which he could contaminate with the Barres’ blood. And I’m the only one who saw the mysterious stranger.”

Diane could tell from the looks on their faces that none of them had thought that she might be accused of the murders of Roy and Ozella Barre. It was comforting that they had passed over her as a suspect, but she knew Leland Conrad wouldn’t.

“The best thing for me would be for the mystery man to be innocent,” said Diane.

Frank leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. He took a breath, sighing. “Well, that changes things,” he said.

However much Frank was a stickler for procedure, he was loyal to her, to family. One of the things she loved him for. He might disagree with her, argue with her, but she could always count on him to be on her side, to have her back.

“Gee, boss,” said Jin, “you don’t think that hillbilly sheriff will target you as a suspect?” Jin’s dark eyes showed his alarm. He sat there in his jeans and glittering double-helix T-shirt with an unaccustomed look of worry on his normally happy face.

“I don’t know. I do know I’m going to have a hard time with Sheriff Conrad, no matter what evidence I’ve collected. That’s unavoidable. I discovered the bodies. That is going to be on his mind, right up there with the mysterious stranger. I have to tell you, I don’t trust his judgment, and I need all the information on the case I can get,” said Diane.

Diane rose from the chair with more weariness than she had realized she had. “Thanks for coming, guys. I’m really sorry to have dragged you out, and I’m sorry to have worried you. I’d like to go home now and go to bed—and hopefully not dream.”

“You want me to process the SUV?” asked David.

“Yes.” Diane put her hands to her face and dropped them. “Damn, I almost forgot. . . . My brain is only half working. I also collected a sample of the tree that fell across my hood, and some concrete from inside it where the tree was repaired at some time in the past.” She turned to Jin. “I’d like you to look for residue that would indicate that a body decomposed inside the hollow tree. I think that’s where the skeleton may have come from. Deputy Conrad said he couldn’t do anything without a body, so I need to find him a body.”

“I’ll do it, boss,” said Jin.

Diane collected her clothes and soggy shoes from the bathroom and started to leave, but David held out his hand.

“I’ll need to process your clothes,” he said.

Izzy, Jin, and Hector looked at David, surprised, as if, in just the space of a few moments, he had formed a mistrust, a suspicion of Diane. They turned and looked at her, questions evident in their eyes.

“Good idea,” she said, handing the clothing to David, who retrieved an evidence bag to contain the items.

“If the sheriff tries to accuse you, we’ll be able to counter with an official examination report clearing your clothes of any trace evidence,” said David. “I’ll get a detective from the department to witness the process. Hanks has asked several times if he could come watch us work.”

Good, paranoid David
, thought Diane. She didn’t know what she would do without him.

“What if there was blood on the underside of the poncho?” said Hector. “She will have blood on her clothes.”

“Then we’ll match the pattern,” said David. “We’ll prove it was transfer.”

 

Diane slept late. When she awoke she found a note on her pillow from Frank saying he was sorry but he had to go in to work. Also, that he had mixed her another protein drink before he left and put it in the refrigerator. And he had arranged for the museum staff to bring her vehicle and park it in the driveway. She smiled and put the note down on the dresser.
Frank thinks of everything
, she thought. She had completely forgotten that her red Explorer was at the museum.

Diane took a long shower, dressed, and downed the drink that Frank had mixed. He had blended in fresh strawberries.
Yes, Frank thinks of everything.

Before she left for work, she called Laura Hillard, one of her oldest friends. They had known each other since kindergarten. Diane was originally from Rosewood. At twelve, her family moved to Tennessee. When Diane accepted the job as director of the museum, after a career as a forensic anthropologist and human rights investigator, the move to Rosewood was a return to her roots, and to old friends.

Diane asked Laura if she could come have a late lunch at the museum. Laura was a member of the museum board and she was also a psychiatrist, and it was in that capacity that Diane wanted to consult with her.

Andie Layne, Diane’s assistant, was behind her desk when Diane walked in. Diane hadn’t been gone from the museum even an entire workday, yet it felt like she had been gone a week. She wanted to tell Andie that she was glad to see her again after all this time. Instead, she smiled and said, “I like your new style. Very sophisticated.”

Andie had her tight red curls in an up style with a generous amount of cascading curls around her face. She wore a tailored, black-trimmed red suit, an unusual choice for her. She usually wore a more offbeat style of clothing.

Andie stood up and turned around, giving Diane a three-sixty view of the cinch-waist jacket and straight skirt.

“I like it too. I thought I’d add ‘sophisticated’ to my fashion repertoire. Keep people off guard a little.” She grinned. “Frank called me and said you’d be in late. He didn’t say why.”

She stood looking at Diane expectantly. Diane could see she was curious. Frank didn’t usually make calls for her. Diane hated to put a damper on her mood.

“I had some problems coming back from Rendell County,” she said.

Hell, she might as well tell her. Andie would find out eventually, and Diane would feel bad about keeping her in the dark. Andie was her gatekeeper, and Diane had discovered a long time ago it was a good idea to keep gatekeepers informed. She gave Andie a very brief description of what happened. Even in brevity, it was shocking. Andie stood, wide-eyed, and slowly sat down.

“Oh, oh. That’s . . . that’s just awful. Those poor people. Are you all right? A skeleton on your car?” Andie seemed not to know quite what to comment on first.

“I’m fine. I’ll be working on the museum side today. Laura’s coming for a late lunch. Please send her in when she gets here,” said Diane.

“Sure. Can I get you anything?”

“Just hold all calls that aren’t urgent,” she said.

Diane would have just put her assistant director, Kendel, in charge for a couple of days while she dealt with the fallout of the previous day. But Kendel was in Africa with Mike, the geology curator, acquiring fossils. They weren’t due back for several days. Diane was even shorthanded in the crime lab. Neva, a several-generations Georgia girl, and one of Diane’s criminalists, told Diane she had never been out of the country. So she’d given Neva time off to go with Mike, who was Neva’s boyfriend. Diane hoped they were all having a good time.

Diane’s office suite was connected to Andie’s office. She went through the adjoining door and sat down at her desk. After attending to a few letters, she ordered lunch from the museum restaurant and asked that it be sent to her office. Turkey sandwiches and fruit salads arrived at the same time as Laura.

Laura wore a pale blue pantsuit that looked good on her slim frame. Her blond hair was in its usual smooth French twist. Diane always admired Laura’s grace. Diane had a hard time with grace.

“You look great,” said Diane.

“Thanks. I appreciate lunch. This is nice.” They sat down at the large table and ate, talking only small talk. When they finished, Diane got up and set the dishes on the counter next to the sink.

“So,” said Laura, going to the couch, sitting down, and folding her arms. “What is it you want to talk about?”

Diane sighed and sat down in the chair she was in earlier that morning. “First, I need to tell you about my experience last evening,” she said.

Diane related the story in much the same way she had to her crime lab crew and to Frank—complete and detailed. Normally, Laura listened with an interested but unemotional expression on her face. But this was not a story that lent itself to nonexpression. Laura looked much like the others had—jaw dropping, eyes wide.

“Diane, for heaven’s sake, are you all right?” she said, when Diane’s lengthy narrative was over.

“I asked you here to discuss just that.” Diane took a deep breath. “Laura, I was terrified to the point of nausea the whole time.”

Laura frowned. “Diane, only you would find that abnormal. If it were me the guy had grabbed, I’d be in his basement chained to the wall, or whatever he had planned. Or if I managed to get away and make it to the woods, I’d be lost in some thicket, whimpering like a child. And if I’d managed to make it out of the woods and through some miracle located the Barres’ house and found them with their throats slashed, you would have found me on the floor in a fetal position babbling nonsense, and I’d be committed to an institution for the next year. You don’t have a problem.”

“Seriously, Laura. I’ve been in bad situations many times. I’ve never before experienced that level of fright. I was almost immobilized at times.”

“But you got away. Even gave the son of a bitch a black eye. You got through the woods. You made a friend along the way. And you kept your presence of mind at the Barres’. I reiterate: You don’t have a problem.” She held up a hand when Diane started to speak again. “But if you want my opinion, I’ll tell you what I think.”