Dust to Dust (22 page)

“The thieves took the paintings,” said Diane.

“Why would anyone steal those old paintings?”

“That’s one of the things we hope to find out. They also took your pottery that was in the living room hutch.”

“I don’t know what the paintings were worth, but they are going to be sorely disappointed in the pots. They aren’t real artifacts,” said Marcella.

Marcella pronounced each word with a short pause. Diane noticed her voice was fading quickly.

“What did you make of the subjects in the paintings?” asked Diane.

“One was a young woman, another was a young man—actually, they looked more like teenagers. The background of both was woods. Very wistful faces. The third was a woman, perhaps in her thirties, sitting in a chair.”

Marcella stopped talking and her eyes suddenly grew wide. Diane was alarmed that she might be feeling ill.

“Well, why didn’t I notice it before?” Marcella said. “She was sitting on a chair at a desk—the desk I found in the potter’s shed.”

Marcella leaned back and put a hand to her head and took a deep breath.

“I’m afraid I’m tiring you out,” said Diane.

“It’s this damn headache that comes and goes that tires me out,” she said. “It’s good for me to think. I need to be able to think.”

“Your thinking is just fine. Thank you for allowing us to experiment in your yard.”

“My pleasure,” whispered Marcella. “Experimenting is good. I have always liked the University of Georgia motto—do you know what it is?”

“No, I confess I don’t.” Diane grinned. “I don’t even know the motto of Bartrum University.”

“Georgia’s is
Et docere et rerum exquirere causas
,” Marcella said slowly.

Diane’s Latin was terrible, unless it had something to do with anatomy. She merely raised her eyebrows.

“To teach, to serve, and to inquire into the nature of things. I love inquiring into the nature of things.”

“That is a nice motto,” said Diane. She squeezed Marcella’s hand and started to leave.

“Bartrum’s,” whispered Marcella, “is
Quaerite et invenietis
: Seek and ye shall find.”

“I’ll remember that,” Diane said.

Paloma and Mark were gone when Diane came out of the ICU. Diane guessed they were in the cafeteria. She punched the elevator button and waited. The doors opened and Lynn Webber was standing in front of her, managing to look stylish in her bright white lab coat. Diane got on the elevator.

“Were you looking for me?” asked Lynn.

“No,” said Diane. “I have a friend in ICU.”

Lynn looked very uncomfortable and it was all Diane could do not to smile.

“You do? I’m so sorry. I hope they are doing well,” Lynn said.

“She is improving,” said Diane.

“I read an archaeologist was attacked in her home. Is that your friend?” she asked.

“Yes, it is. Marcella Payden,” Diane said.

Lynn was standing in front of the elevator buttons. She made no move to push them.

“I’m going to the lobby,” said Diane. She pointed to the elevator buttons in front of Lynn.

“Well, hell,” said Lynn. “Have you read the newspaper or not?”

Diane smiled. “Yes, I have.”

“I suppose you’re mad?” said Lynn.

“No, not particularly. I’m rather concerned about the political fallout for you.”

“That reporter went way beyond what I wrote,” Lynn said.

“I thought I recognized a shift in writing style,” said Diane.

“I called her and asked why in the world she said the things she did about the two crimes being similar. She said it’s her style to write what seems reasonable and let the facts shake out. If they are wrong, people will correct her.” Lynn threw up her hands. “That’s how she gets at the truth? Can you imagine that logic? What kind of epistemology is that?”

“Have you had many calls?” asked Diane.

“I probably have. My assistant is answering the phone. I’ve been out of the office,” she said.

I don’t blame you
, thought Diane.

Lynn punched the button for the lobby and the elevator moved with a lurch. “Are you parked in the parking garage?” asked Lynn.

“Yes,” Diane said.

“Me too. Have you heard from Ross?” asked Lynn.

“No. I expect to,” said Diane.

“I hope this won’t make his job more difficult,” Lynn said.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby. They stepped out as several people brushed past them to get in. Diane and Lynn headed for the exit to the parking garage.

“I take it from the article that Stacy was murdered,” said Diane.

“Yes. A first-year student could have made the call. Hell, anyone who watches forensic crime dramas could have seen it was murder,” she said.

A great many people were going to be unhappy with the findings, especially the way in which they were announced. Probably the only satisfied person at the moment was Harmon Dance. And quite possibly, the reporter.

The exit to the parking garage was just off a small hallway. Diane pushed on the large gray door. Just as they were outside, a man approached. Lynn started to speak, but stopped.

“You vindictive bitch. You stupid, vindictive bitch.” The man was taller than either of them, but wasn’t quite six feet. He was slim, but pudgy, had a round face and a head of thick, wavy, reddish brown hair. His eyes were close together and he had a cruel twist to his mouth. He held a newspaper in his right hand and was hitting the palm of his left hand with it.

“Oran Doppelmeyer,” said Lynn. “I see you hate having your incompetence revealed. And after you have made such efforts to hide it.”

“You think you can get away with this pathetic stunt? It’s only going to show you up for the pissy little amateur you are.” He stopped in front of Lynn and reached for her arm. “Don’t think . . .”

Lynn’s jaw clinched. “Get your hand off my arm,” she said.

Diane could almost hear Lynn’s teeth grinding.

“You need to go somewhere and calm down,” Diane said to him.

He turned toward Diane without letting go of Lynn. “Who the hell are—Ow!”

Lynn had karate-chopped the arm that held her. Before he could react, Diane shoved her Rosewood identification in his face.

“Stop, or I’ll place you under arrest. You think the newspaper makes you look bad now, wait until it gets the story that you attacked Dr. Webber. You won’t be able to spin yourself out of it. Back off now and calm down.”
Before Lynn beats you up
, she felt like adding.

He stared at Diane’s identification for a long moment.

“What’s this?” he said. “Crime lab?”

“Yes, and I can arrest if the need arises. Lynn, why don’t you go on to your car?”

“And leave you alone with this maniac? No.” Lynn was in a fighting mode.

Jeez
, thought Diane.
They’re both maniacs
.

Diane started to tell Lynn she needed to go first and let him save some face, but she could see Lynn wasn’t in the mood to allow any face-saving measures for Doppelmeyer. The door opened and several men filed out, heading to their cars. They eyed the three of them as they passed. The heavyset men wore beards and overalls and clearly made Doppelmeyer uncomfortable.

“You need to go get in your car and go somewhere and chill,” Diane said to Doppelmeyer. “No good can come of your staying here.”

He glared at Lynn and pointed a finger. “We aren’t finished.”

Lynn pointed a finger back, punctuating her words. “Yes, we are.”

He backed away, not breaking eye contact with Lynn. Unfortunately, Lynn wouldn’t break eye contact either. She stood with her arms folded, staring. Doppelmeyer was at his car. He either had to break contact first, or stand there looking as stupid as Diane felt for standing there with the two of them.

His solution to his dilemma was to give Lynn the finger. There were some things Lynn wouldn’t do and, happily for Diane, returning the gesture was one of them. He got in his car and left.

“Okay,” said Diane. “Just what high school do you two go to?”

Lynn looked over at her sharply, then shrugged. “Oh, I suppose you’re right. He just brings out the worst in me.”

“I can see that,” said Diane. “He’s acting dangerous. I think you ought to ask security to walk you to and from your car.”

“He’s all talk. He doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” she said.

“Grabbing your arm wasn’t all talk. I’m serious. He looks like he’s not finished. It won’t hurt to get security to escort you to and from your car,” she said. “They’ll like the idea.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Lynn. “That lie he told about me those years ago still follows me. Whenever I go to a professional conference, invariably, someone brings it up. I needed something big to finally blow the ugly thing out of the water.”

Diane wasn’t sure whether the ugly thing Lynn referred to was Doppelmeyer or the lie. Lynn was still watching where he had left, as if he might return, backing up, to give her another piece of his mind.

“Besides,” Lynn said, turning back to Diane, “everything
I
said in the article was true and it is a terrible miscarriage of justice.”

“Just be careful,” said Diane as she went to her vehicle.

She started up her SUV and waited until Lynn drove out of the parking garage to be sure she didn’t have Doppelmeyer following her.

Diane drove back to the museum. She went to Andie’s office first. Kingsley was there waiting for her. It was getting to be a habit of his, dropping by without calling first. He probably figured it was the most reliable way of getting to see her. Perhaps it was. She couldn’t help but notice he had a copy of the newspaper with him.

“Hello, Ross,” she said, smiling. “Andie, anything urgent?”

“Nothing urgent. Kendel got away okay. I drove her to the airport this morning early. I asked her to bring me back an Australian. I love their accents. I put the mail on your desk. Jin called for an appointment.”

“Jin called for an appointment?” said Diane.“Since when does Jin call for appointments? Did he say what for?”

“No, but I know what it is. You want me to tell you?” said Andie.

“No, I want to stand here and guess. What does he want?” said Diane.

“He wants to go to a conference in the Netherlands. They’re teaching some cool stuff in DNA analysis. But that’s just a guess. I think he’s going to present it all formal-like so you’ll say yes.”

Diane called Jin on her cell. “Jin,” she said when he answered, “if you are comfortable with leaving Hector and Scott in charge, you can go to the conference.”

There was silence for a moment before Jin spoke. “How did you know?” he said.

“It’s my job,” she said. “How is the analysis coming of the evidence we collected in Gainesville? I have a feeling we are going to need it soon.”

“I’m working on it. I’ll be done today. Thanks, Boss,” he said.

“Sure.”

She turned to Ross. “You’re here about Lynn Webber,” she said.

“I thought you said Lynn Webber wasn’t a loose cannon,” said Kingsley as he sat down in the leather chair across from Diane’s desk.

Diane was glad to see him grinning broadly. She realized just how much she had dreaded trying to explain how a person whom she vouched for had screwed up his new job.

“Normally, she’s not a loose cannon,” said Diane. “I didn’t know the impact their history had on Lynn’s psyche. She’s apparently been waiting a long time for a chance to pay Doppelmeyer back. And I’m afraid she’s unrepentant, especially after the reaction she got from him.”

“Reaction?” Kingsley said.

Diane told him about the parking garage encounter with Doppelmeyer at the hospital.

“You can arrest people?” he said when she finished.

“I have the authority, but I don’t have restraints or a gun, so it would have been hand-to-hand combat. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that,” she said.

“Fortunately.” He laughed.

“Which reminds me, I need to call Garnett. Excuse me a moment,” she said.

Diane got Chief Garnett on the phone and told him about the incident at the hospital.

“Oran Doppelmeyer seemed out of control to me,” she told Garnett, “and I had the feeling Dr. Webber didn’t take it seriously enough. Can you have someone keep a lookout for her, or at least notify hospital security?”

“Sure,” Garnett said. “Lynn’s an officer of the court. What Doppelmeyer did was to commit a physical assault on her while she was on duty. And he made verbal threats against her. I’ll make some arrangements. This is about that article in the paper?”

“Yes.” Diane made a face. She hoped he wouldn’t ask too many questions. She didn’t particularly relish explaining the entire situation to him.

“The chief of police had a phone call from his Gainesville counterpart this morning,” said Garnett. “The chief naturally didn’t know what to say. He tried to reach Dr. Webber, but she’s been in meetings all morning. Who exactly does she meet with?”

“I don’t know,” said Diane. “She likes to keep on good terms with the hospital administration, since her offices are there, so . . .” She let the sentence hang.

“Is there anything I should know about?” he asked.

Apparently her nonanswer hadn’t been as subtle as she’d hoped.
Well, damn
.

“It depends on how you feel about plausible deniability,” said Diane.

She heard him sigh. “How deep are we in this thing?” he asked.

“At the request of a private investigator, and on my own time, I reworked the Stacy Dance crime scene,” said Diane. “It had been released by the Gainesville police more than a month ago and the case closed. Based on what I saw at the crime scene and in the police report, I suggested that the private firm currently involved in the case arrange for a new autopsy. At the father’s request, the court order was obtained. The victim’s father was very eager that this be resolved. He never believed it was an accident. Lynn was brought in to redo the autopsy. Jin helped with collecting the evidence and he is readying it to give to the Gainesville police when they call.”