Dead Secret dffi-3

by Beverly Connor

  “That wasn’t going to happen. I have very strong feelings about terrorists. I had to deal with a lot of them when I worked for World Accord International in South America. However, I have to protect the museum, and I will.”

  “I’ll do everything I can. All you have to do is tell me what you need.”

  Diane knew he meant it. If for no other reason than that she had the power to break the arrangement with Rosewood about the crime lab and he knew it.

  Diane called Kendel, Andie, Chanell Napier, her head of museum security, and Lane Emery, head of crime lab security, into her office, closed the door and told them about the threat to the museum. She was beginning to get accustomed to the bug-eyed, openmouthed look. When they recovered she asked for suggestions about closing the museum.

  “Should I close the museum for a while? Say we’re putting up exhibits?”

  “Can’t give in to terroristic threats,” said Chanell.

  “I have to think of the safety of the visitors and staff,” said Diane.

  “I agree with Chanell,” said Kendel. “However, we can go to shorter hours and give the same reason-changing out exhibits. God knows, the paleontologists have been wanting us to close so they can assemble the velociraptors without spectators looking over their shoulders. But if we were to close, how would we know how long to stay closed? We couldn’t just stay closed indefinitely.”

  “What about the restaurant? Closing would cost the owner,” said Diane.

  “The restaurant has its own entrance and exit. It can stay open even when the museum is closed,” said Kendel. “But that doesn’t help, does it? They are still in this building.”

  “Andie? Any thoughts?” asked Diane.

  “I say business as usual. Don’t give an inch. Another thing you can do is solve it real fast.”

  “You haven’t said anything, Mr. Emery,” said Diane.

  He had been sitting silently, his lips in a thin grim line.

  “I don’t like to give in to terrorists either, but I say we close down the museum-say for the weekend-so we can give it a thorough search.”

  “Search?”

  “Burning down a place like this wouldn’t be easy; it’s not like they can light a match to a set of draperies. From what you said, it sounds like they’re confident they can carry out their threats. If they’ve been able to come and go at will, they may have already planted a device in the building.”

  “Device? Like a bomb?” asked Diane.

  Emery nodded. “They could use incendiary bombs loaded with jellied gasoline. There may be more than one. Down deep, I think they’re bluffing. But if we shut down just for the weekend-and say something like, ‘The environmental controls broke down’-we can get dogs in here. If there is a device here, we can find it. But we’ll need everybody out of the building.”

  Diane closed her eyes and thought about all the options, everything that everyone had said. Her thoughts were churning. Was the threat credible? She had no choice but to treat it as if it were. There was a silence that began to get uncomfortable. Throats were cleared; there was some squirming in the creaking chairs. A decision suddenly came to her in a flash of insight-or paranoia; she didn’t know which. She opened her eyes and looked at Emery.

  “Mr. Emery, I think your points are well-founded. Prudence dictates that we take every reasonable precaution. I want you to organize the search, but let’s do it in such a way as to minimize the disruption. This is Friday. When normal quitting time for the day staff arrives at five o’clock, I want the museum closed, and to remain closed for the weekend.”

  There were sounds of surprise from some of the staff. Chanell looked taken aback. After all, she was head of security for the museum. For a moment Diane thought Chanell was going to object. She looked at Diane and shook her head, but then gazed down at her hands and said nothing. It probably seemed to her, thought Diane, that she was being taken out of the loop.

  “Andie, I need you to see what tour groups and special activities we have scheduled for the weekend. Offer our apologies and ask them to reschedule. Offer them a seventy percent discount if they will.”

  Andie nodded.

  “I would hope that twenty-four hours is plenty of time to make all preparations for the search. So let’s say the search will officially begin tomorrow at six P.M. Mr. Emery, can you make arrangements?”

  “Yes. I’ll get right on it.”

  Diane looked at her watch. “It’s three o’clock now. We’re locking down at six o’clock today, including the restaurant. The only people who will stay will be museum security personnel and the crime lab crew. Mr. Emery, I want your security people fresh when the bomb unit gets here tomorrow, so you and yours can go home now for rest, and Chanell’s people can secure the building until tomorrow afternoon. Is that okay with you, Chanell?”

  She nodded. “I’ll notify my people and call in a couple of officers on leave to double up until Mr. Emery’s people come in tomorrow,” she said.

  “Okay, all of you tell any of your people who will be affected,” Diane said. “But do not discuss with anyone what has been said in this room. The official reason for closing is a breakdown of environmental controls, to be repaired over the weekend. Security is extremely important. We can’t take the chance that any information might leak out of here about what we’re doing. Maybe we’ll get lucky and resolve this whole thing in a few days and can get back to normal.”

  That was possible, she thought. Sometimes it was like falling dominoes when they got a critical mass of evidence-just one more piece could make them start falling, and suddenly a case was solved.

  Maybe that critical evidence would be the DNA. Diane realized that she was counting on their getting DNA that she had tricked her captors into giving her. There was a good chance that the spittle didn’t contain any, or there wasn’t enough.

  She sent the staff away to make plans. Now came the task that she dreaded most-calling her parents and telling them that she was the reason for her mother’s nightmare.

  Diane called Daniel Reynolds first. She told him part of the story-leaving out the danger to the museum. The fewer people who knew about that the better.

  “I need you to contact the federal marshals’ office, the FBI, and the Bureau of Prison authorities; alert them that the danger might not be over, that someone still may hack into their systems to hurt a member of my family.”

  “That must be some kind of case you’re working on, to worry someone this much,” he said.

  “That’s just it-the events that started this whole thing happened in 1942. Most of the people involved would be very old or dead.”

  “Their descendants wouldn’t.”

  Diane was silent for a moment. Of course, she thought, people didn’t live out their lives in a vacuum. They had children and grandchildren. And great-grandchildren, just like Jane Doe-Flora Martin had a great-grandchild. People built lives, reputations and fortunes, and their descendants often depended on those reputations and fortunes. Reynolds’s remark put her mind on had a new line of inquiry, a new way to look at the problem.

  “From the silence, I must have gotten you thinking,” said the lawyer.

  “You did, indeed. And it seems so obvious.”

  “I’ll get on this right away. I suppose you’ll be calling your folks.”

  “Yes. After I hang up with you.”

  “Then I won’t keep you. Don’t worry about this end. I’ll see that the right people get on this.”

  She called Gerald first. She caught him at his office and told him essentially what she had told Daniel Reynolds.

  “I just wanted you to know, because they are going to be needing support, and they won’t want it from me.”

  “God, Diane. I’m not sure I understand this. This sounds more like the Russian mob or something.”

  “It is extreme, I agree. Are you and Susan doing okay?”

  “We’re still living under the same roof and being civil to each other, so I guess we’re doing fine. Alan
took some vacation time, I understand. Apparently, it was a blow to him for you to think he’d stab you.”

  “That, and being wrong. He always had a hard time with that.”

  “Your dad’s been at home all week with your mother, so they should be together. You want me to call Susan and give her a heads-up?”

  “Yes, thanks. She might want to go on over there.”

  When Diane hung up, she waited with her hand on the phone, dreading what was coming. A knot formed in her stomach, making her nauseated. She thought about calling Gerald back and asking him to tell them. But instead, she dialed her parents’ number.

  Chapter 38

  Diane sat alone at her desk, her head down on her arms, sobbing.

  “Diane?”

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Mike’s voice. She didn’t remember him ever using her first name. Surprised and embarrassed, she lifted her head. She was still holding the telephone receiver tight in her hand. She put it back in its cradle.

  “Mike. Sorry. You caught me at a bad time.”

  Diane grabbed a Kleenex and wiped her eyes. Mike stood in front of her desk, a deep crease between his brows, his light brown eyes filled with puzzled concern.

  At least he can see me off my pedestal, she thought as she blotted her eyes again.

  “Can I help? Is it Frank?”

  Diane tried to smile as she met his gaze. “No. It’s my parents. I had to tell them that what happened to Mother was my fault.”

  “How was it your fault?”

  “Did Neva tell you about any of this?”

  “A little. Something about identity theft and someone’s hacking into police records causing her to be put in prison for a week.”

  “It was really much worse for her than that. It was done to get me out of town, away from the crime scene evidence. Mike, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m sorry. Did you need something?”

  He shook his head and sat down in the stuffed chair across from her desk. “No. I just dropped by. Andie wasn’t at her desk, so I just came in-I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

  “It’s all right, really. You look better. How is your recovery?”

  “Better. The doctor put me on an exercise program that Neva and I can both live with,” he said flashing a brief smile.

  “She’s just looking out for you.”

  “I know, and she’s doing a good job of it. I’m a lousy patient. My mother used to say that when I was sick as a kid, she got me well in self-defense.”

  “It sounds like you have nice, caring parents.”

  “They are. They live way out in the country on a farm. Dad grows grapes, muscadines and scuppernongs. Dad’s always been a farmer. Mother’s always been a housewife. They’re just plain folk.”

  Mike’s small talk sounded awkward, not like his usual confident, glib self. She’d made him uncomfortable. Tears leaked from her eyes again. She imagined his parents loved their son very much. She envied him.

  “What happened couldn’t have been your fault,” he said.

  “Look at everything, Mike-my daughter is murdered, Frank is shot, you are shot and stabbed, my poor, naive mother is thrown in a hellhole of a prison.” And now the museum, she thought. “The common denominator is me. Hell, the break-in at Neva’s probably has something to do with me.”

  “No. None of it.” He leaned forward. “I certainly don’t hold you responsible, and if I remember right, what happened to Frank wasn’t because of you at all; it was to stop him and his investigation.”

  Mike reached out and took her hand. His touch was warm and safe-feeling, and right now human contact felt good. She squeezed back. After a moment, Diane slipped her hand from his.

  “My mother told me she hates me for what I did-for what I am.”

  Diane didn’t mean to blurt it out that way. After complaining about information leaks, she was becoming a faucet.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

  In his world he probably couldn’t imagine a parent hating her child. But her mother had suffered horribly, and Diane could see her mother’s point of view. If she had been the daughter they wanted, if she weren’t involved in solving crimes, all that happened wouldn’t have happened. And in that, her mother was right. The small headway she had made with her family was now irreparably damaged. Even Susan was angry with her again. She had been with her parents when Diane called and she couldn’t resist weighing in with her opinion of Diane’s guilt.

  “Diane-” he whispered.

  “I’m fine.” She cut him off, stopped him from saying anything further.

  Frank was right; she could see it in Mike’s eyes. He cared very much for her. Diane had no doubt he cared for Neva, too. But right now Diane was vulnerable, and she could see that Mike was ready to step in and try to fix whatever was wrong. She stood up.

  “There are some things I need to do.”

  “Sure. Let me know if I can help.”

  “I will. I’m going to be closing the museum. . only for a few days, I hope.”

  Mike looked startled. She started to give him the reason that she and Kendel had come up with, but she found she couldn’t lie to him.

  “I can’t tell you why. And if you will, please don’t mention it to anyone. I’m going to tell the staff.”

  “No, of course not. Neva asked me if I ever mention to anyone what goes on in the crime lab. I don’t know much, but I never talk about what little I do know.”

  “I didn’t think you did. We may have a leak, and I had to ask everyone. I’m asking Frank, too. I’m also looking at myself. The wrong people may have overheard me talking.”

  “Is everything all right here?”

  “No, Mike, it’s not. But I intend to make it right.”

  “I want to help you.”

  “I know you do. But now, though, I must ask you to work at home, since I’m closing the museum for the weekend.”

  Mike started to leave. He didn’t want to; she could see him hesitate, search for something else to say, make some other offer of help. Finally, he turned and walked out.

  She called David and asked him to meet her at the feeding dock on the swan lake-the large pond with a family of swans that was the centerpiece of the nature trail.

  The nature trail was a half-mile loop in the midst of a wooded garden in back of the museum. It was part of the museum’s exhibits, only outside, growing, and ever changing with each season. It was filled with trilliums, bluet, violets, azaleas, rhododendrons, berries, trees, shrubs, birds, butterflies and more plants than she could remember, and it was always beautiful. She didn’t want to imagine it filled with smoke. Damn whoever was behind this.

  She stood on the feeding platform and threw the arriving swans bread crumbs she had picked up in the restaurant. She heard footfalls come onto the bridge and looked up to see David approaching. She left the swans and walked with him deeper into the trail.

  “Why do I feel like I’m in a James Bond movie?” he said, and sneezed.

  “Because I’ve gone completely paranoid. I don’t want to be overheard. David, how do you feel about sleep?”

  “I don’t need that much. What do you want me to do?” He sneezed again. “Next time we do cloak-and-dagger, can we meet at McDonald’s or someplace like that?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you’re allergic.” Diane told him of her suspicions and outlined the plan that had been working in her mind. “I think Lane Emery is involved in some way. I’m going to ask Garnett to help search the museum tonight and try to catch Emery or the kidnappers in the act tomorrow. Can you stay at the museum a few days?”

  “I can do that. Why do you think it’s Emery?” said David.

  “A hunch really. First of all, there had to be a third person involved in kidnapping me. Going to the elevators, I saw Emery when I left the osteology lab. He could have signaled my kidnappers that I was coming.” Diane looked over at David watching the swans. She couldn’t tell from his face what he was thinking.

  “Do
you have any more than that?” he asked, not taking his eyes off a particularly feisty swan.

  “I was speaking with Kendal, Andie, Chanell and Emery earlier-asking their advice. . ” Diane hesitated for a moment. The reasons for her suspicions did sound weak. “He’s the one who suggested we close down for the weekend. There was just something in the way he said it. . I don’t know.” Diane was beginning to feel silly.

  “If there’s a bomb threat, it makes sense to close down.”

  “There’s not a bomb threat. The guys who kidnapped me said they would burn the museum down. It was Emery who suggested bombs. He said that was about the only way to effectively burn the building.”

  “He has a point,” said David.

  “Yes, he does. I said all I really had was a hunch. But it occurred to me that the kidnappers had no real expectation that I would just hand over evidence-they didn’t even ask for all the evidence. However, if they made a threat like the one they made, there was a very real expectation that I would close the museum for a couple of days. That way they could just take what they needed without a problem-especially if they had the head of security on their side.”

  “Okay, I’m starting to buy into it,” said David. “But what if you are wrong about him?”

  “Then I will apologize profusely and we’ll have at least searched the museum for incendiary devices.”

  David laughed. “I’ll talk to Garnett and take care of the details,” he said.

  “Thanks. I need to tell Vanessa Van Ross what’s up.”

  David raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

  “I always keep her apprised of anything that affects the museum. People think that I don’t answer to anyone, but I do answer to her.”

  Diane walked with David back to the museum. He sneezed all the way. Diane felt as though a weight had been lifted from her just to be able to express her suspicions.

  Diane drove to Vanessa Van Ross’s home. Vanessa lived in the oldest section of Rosewood, where many of the trees were even older than her 114-year-old grandmother had been. Her huge house was at the end of a long, tree-lined, winding drive.