Diane surprised David and Neva when she told them who the aged version of the woman in the snapshot looked like.
“It could be a coincidence,” said David, “but her family does have money.” David paused a moment and rubbed his bald head. “You know, you can publish the drawings in the newspaper or give them to the TV stations in Atlanta. I bet you’d have people coming out of the woodwork who recognize the drawings.”
“I agree, but first, I need to secure the museum.” Diane turned to Neva. “David and I are staying in the museum for a few days. You are welcome to stay, or-”
“I’ll stay here with you. Can Mike stay?”
Diane shook her head. “I don’t want any civilians. No one outside the crime unit staff.”
Neva didn’t want to give up. “But what if whoever it is follows Mike to David’s? He would be safest here.”
“I’ll ask Frank to pick Mike up. He’ll see if anyone is following.”
Neva nodded reluctantly. “I hate this. It’s like somebody is after all of us.”
“Not all of you,” said David. “Just you guys who found the body in the cave.”
Diane was taken by surprise at David’s statement. He was right. Finding the body in the cave was like stumbling over a tripwire. Everything started happening after that event was in the newspapers, including all the current murders.
“He’s right,” whispered Neva. “Why didn’t we see that?
It’s so obvious. I mean, obviously Caver Doe is central. We knew that. But I never quite realized that all of us who were in the cave have become targets. The newspaper article named us all.”
She looked at Diane. “MacGregor,” they both said simultaneously.
Diane took out her cell, punched up the list of caving buddies and called MacGregor, who was also with them in the cave.
“MacGregor.” Diane was relieved to hear him answer.
“It’s Diane Fallon, Mac. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?” He sounded slightly puzzled but glad to hear from her.
“Mac, has anything strange happened to you lately?”
“Strange like what?”
“Has anyone broken into your house?”
“No. But there is something kind of weird going on.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been getting these calls for the past couple of weeks-some guy tells me that he’s the one who’s the top of the food chain and I’m just a bottom-feeder and that I can’t have his rabbits.” MacGregor laughed. “It cracks me up just thinking about it. I asked him what the heck he was talking about and he just hung up. He’s called several times. Once in the middle of the night. I told him the calls had to stop, and if it made him feel better, I wouldn’t get any of his rabbits.”
“What did your caller ID say?”
“No data. I was hoping to be able to call him back in the middle of the night and tell him I’d changed my mind, that I like rabbit stew.” MacGregor chuckled.
“What was his voice like?” asked Diane. She frowned at Neva and David, who stood watching her closely. The calls were sounding less and less like a prank.
“Kind of high-pitched, like a girl’s, but I could still tell it was a guy.”
“Are you at work?” Diane asked.
“Yes, I’m here at my daddy’s hardware store.”
“Can you stay at your parents’ house for a while?”
“Why?”
“Mike’s getting the same calls. In the last one he referred to Neva as a nice little rabbit.”
“Oh, shit, is this some kind of real nutcase?” MacGregor’s voice went up several decibels, and Diane had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“I don’t know for sure what it is. I can’t give you any details, Mac, but there is some serious stuff going on. Why don’t you stay with your parents, or at your cousin’s?”
“I guess you haven’t heard. My cousin’s place burned down.”
Diane looked wide-eyed at David and Neva. “Mac, your cousin’s home burning falls under the category of unusual things I was asking about,” she said. Diane’s heart beat faster; it was like discovering a danger that she hadn’t known existed.
“I didn’t think about it. Nobody was hurt, but his trailer was gutted. The thing is, my cousin and his wife and kids are staying with my parents and it’s kind of crowded. And frankly, I kind of get on everybody’s nerves, if you know what I mean.”
Diane did. “Is there anyplace else you could stay?”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
David was making motions with his fingers to give him the phone. Diane handed it to him.
“Hi, Mac, this is David Goldstein; I work with Jin and Diane at the crime lab. I’m going to have Mike stay at my condo, and you can stay there too until we figure this out.” He paused awhile, listening. “You’ll be fine. I’m a paranoid guy, and I have a steel-reinforced door with four different locks, and bars on my windows.” He paused again for several long moments. “Good. Why don’t you come to the museum and I’ll give you directions to my place. Just ask for Diane at the front desk.”
David clicked off the phone and jiggled his ear with his little finger. “The guy can talk up a storm.”
“He’s getting the same calls as Mike?” asked Neva.
“Yes,” said Diane. She squeezed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, this is not fitting together. The threats I’m getting about the museum are completely different in content and tone from the food-chain threats, or whatever they are.” She shook her head. “But MacGregor did say his cousin’s trailer burned down. His cousin owns the land the cave is on. Was that in the paper too?”
Neva nodded.
“I need to get in touch with Jin. Has anyone heard from him since he left?” Jin was in the cave with them too.
“No,” said David. He took his own phone and punched up Jin’s cell. “Jin, this is David. Call the lab as soon as you get this.” He shook his head. “It went straight to the answering service.”
“We need to find him,” said Diane. “Call the DNA lab. If you can’t get him, let me know. Kendel’s set up a meeting with the museum staff. I’ve got to send them home.”
Diane met with her staff in the auditorium on the second floor of the museum. When they were all assembled, she told them she was closing the museum for the weekend so that repairs could be made on a critical environmental system that was failing. It was a lame excuse. But most, she believed, would welcome a free vacation. It was the faculty curators who were conducting experiments whom she expected to have trouble with, and she was not disappointed.
“I have to check on my experiment every four hours,” said the botany curator.
“Turn in your schedule to security and they will escort you to your lab. But you will have to do it yourself; you can’t send a student.”
“What? What’s really going on?” asked the botany curator. Diane could see it was not going to be easy leaving them in the dark.
“This would be a perfect time to work on the velociraptors,” interrupted the paleontology curator, before Diane could answer. “We’ve been wanting to close down the dinosaur exhibit so we can work.”
“This might seem like a good time, but it is not. Now, everyone enjoy your long weekend.”
“Wait a minute,” said Botany. “I can’t come every four hours throughout the night.”
“Why?”
“Well, I just can’t. I’ll be asleep.”
“Who does it for you at night?”
“My graduate student. That’s what they’re for.” There was a ripple of laughter throughout the room.
“We have a critical and difficult system failing, and I have worked out the protocol for repairing it. I’ve tried to accommodate ongoing experiments. However, it will have to be you who takes care of your experiment. I don’t want a student doing it. You don’t have to understand my reasoning, just my instructions,” Diane said.
The botanist looked at her, stunned. “I suppose I can set a clock.”
“Good, before you leave today, I want to see your schedule at the front information desk in the lobby. If it’s not there, you won’t be allowed in.”
“This is ridiculous. I’ve never been treated this way in my life.”
“I’m sorry, really. But I need cooperation. When I don’t get it, I have to enforce it. This is just one weekend. If we get repairs done earlier than expected, I’ll call you and you can arrange for your student to do the work.”
“Very well, since I have no choice.”
This was a different botanist than the one she started with. When she had made the arrangements with the university, the departments were unwilling to send faculty to what they considered basically an unpaid position, and ended up sending the newest-hired or their retired faculty. When it was discovered what kind of lab space she was offering, some departments pulled rank and gave the part-time job to tenured professors. This was one of them. If she was lucky, he’d change his mind about the appointment and she’d get back her original curator. Diane stepped down, even though she was flooded with questions from the curators.
When people left today, the museum would be virtually empty, and a search would be conducted for any devices that might be waiting to burn the museum. The possibility of those devices anywhere on the premises chilled her and made her face hot with anger.
“Look, if it’s the air-conditioning, I’ve worked in heat before,” said the paleontologist. “I’ve excavated in the desert, for heaven’s sake.”
“It’s something more she’s not telling us,” said Botany.
“Now, gentlemen,” said Jonas Briggs. “Let’s not start treating this like the university. If Diane says she has an environmental problem that needs fixing, then let’s take her word and not cause problems.”
“It’s just that I don’t understand why I have to be escorted to my own research lab.”
“Is it going to alter the outcome of your research if you are escorted to the lab to attend to it?” asked Diane.
“No, of course not.”
“Then I don’t see your problem. This is the way it’s going to be.” She paused a moment. “What do you need to do for the experiments? If it’s simply recording observations or readings, I can do it. If we’re lucky, your graduate student can take it up on Sunday.”
“Yes, that will work. Yes. I’ll go write out the instructions and leave them at the information desk.”
Diane left them calling after her and started for her crime lab office to call Garnett. For several days something had been nagging at the back of her mind, something she had forgotten. She rubbed her eyes. It’ll come to the surface eventually, she thought. She started up the stairs.
“Diane.” It was Jonas Briggs. “I think it’s obvious to everyone that something is going on. I won’t ask you what, but do you need help?”
“Thank you, Jonas. But I have help coming.”
“You look tired, and if I may say, that is just a terrible haircut.”
Diane laughed and ran her fingers through the sides of her hair where Jin had cut samples. She’d forgotten about that.
“Good, I made you laugh. For some women that would have made them cry,” said Jonas.
Diane laughed again at the thought of what she must have looked like up there talking to the curators.
“I have another suggestion,” said Jonas.
“Shoot,” said Diane.
“If it wouldn’t offend your sensibilities, I could hint that we may have a serious pest infestation that has gotten out of control and you’ll be using some highly toxic chemicals to rid the museum of them. If I can start some gossip in that direction, maybe that will keep their minds occupied. We all know when those pesky dermestids get out, they can reek havoc in a museum,” said Jonas.
Diane nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll tell you what’s really going on when it’s over,” she said. “Have a good vacation. I’ll see you next week.”
Diane left Jonas at the foot of the stairwell and climbed up to the third floor. She met David in the crime lab.
“Have you heard from Jin?”
“He’s in the GBI lab in Atlanta. They’re replicating, reproducing or whatever it is they do with DNA.”
“That’s a relief. You told him about the possible danger?”
“Yes. He’ll be careful. He’s going to be staying the night in Atlanta anyway.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“I told Garnett about your suspicions of Emery. He was skeptical, but he’s bringing his men to search the building tonight.” David paused and put a hand on Diane’s shoulder. “We are going to figure all this out,” he said. “We know a lot. We’ve just got to put it together the right way.”
“I know.” Diane put her hand over his. “I just feel like I’ve forgotten something. You know that feeling?”
“Yeah, I have it too. Something’s nagging at me and I can’t remember what it was. It’s like an idea that passes through your head too quickly to grasp and aggravates your synapses.”
She heard the phone ringing, and Neva answered it. She’d sent the receptionists home and put the museum guards on the crime lab. She trusted her handpicked museum guards more than the crime lab guards that Rosewood hired. And she wanted the museum searched and empty by the time Lane Emery’s men arrived the following evening. She fully expected either Emory or the two kidnappers to try and steal evidence from the crime lab.
“Diane, it’s Sheriff Burns,” Neva called out. “He has some information on Flora Martin.”