One Grave Less (44 page)

“How top secret is it, if you know what it is?” said Diane.

David looked at her as if she had insulted him.

“Actually, some of the stuff isn’t all that secret, but it is experimental and restricted in its use,” David said.

“This is good, David. Can we find out if the GBI found any of this trace on Madge Stewart’s clothing?” said Diane.

He shook his head. “They haven’t,” he said. “Just normal fibers, they said. But what is normal, really?” He grinned.

“I’ve often wondered that myself,” she said. “How is Charlotte coming?”

“Still humming away. You know, if—”

“No, there is no way we can afford a supercomputer. And if we could, what the hell do you need with that much computing power? Sometimes you scare me, David.” She gave him a lopsided smile.

David and Frank grinned.

“But he can get you smiling,” Frank said.

“Charlotte has connected Ivan Santos with specific drug dealers and smugglers of endangered animals. But we already suspected he probably knew those kinds of people. She is still working on other levels of connections,” said David. “The weather is kind of interfering with her progress.”

Diane looked up as Gregory came strolling into the room.

“I got an e-mail just now,” Gregory said. “Apparently your phones are a little touch and go at the moment. It seems we have some good news. You are no longer an internationally wanted woman, and Cameron Michaels is coming to visit us.”

Rain spattered against the huge double doors of the museum. The parking lot outside was covered by a thin sheet of water, creating a gray, watery appearance, like a lake on a cloudy day. Diane had closed the museum to the public. The only people coming in were staff looking for a shelter in the storm.

Frank put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

“I’ve always liked rainy days,” he said.

“Me too,” said Diane. “But, I don’t know, it feels strange today, foreboding somehow.”

“You think it might have something to do with what’s been going on?” he said.

“I’m sure it does. I just can’t seem to shake the depression that’s settled over me.” Diane laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

“Me too.”

“You know I love you,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “I’m counting on it.”

Diane laughed.

“How is Star doing?” she asked.

“She’s helping Andie wrangle kids in that cavern you call a ballroom,” he said. “She’s having fun.”

A large dark SUV pulled up and parked near the door. Diane squinted to see through the gray film of rain. A figure got out of the driver’s side and made a dash for the door. Diane held it open. The man doffed his hat and hit it on his pant leg, knocking off the rain.

“Damn, what weather,” he said.

“Cameron,” said Diane, “it’s been a long time.”

“Diane. Good to see you,” he said, attempting a smile. “This is like the rainy season in the Amazon.”

Diane introduced him to Frank.

“I wasn’t sure you got the message I was coming,” he said. “I went to your home, but the police were there. What was that about?”

Diane explained the happenings of the last few hours. She tried to make the story briefer with each telling of it. Cameron listened with a serious, pensive expression.

“And these mercenaries are after some kind of package?” he said.

“Apparently. And I haven’t a clue as to what or where. I don’t even know if I’m looking for something as small as a ring box or as big as a refrigerator. But you need to get warm and dry. Let me take you downstairs,” she said.

As she turned away from the doors, out of the corner of her eye she thought she caught movement deep in the gray mist where the tree line started. It was subtle. She wasn’t sure she saw anything. She turned her head and smiled at the guard on duty in the lobby. Chanell had told them to be vigilant. She didn’t repeat the warning.

Diane took Cameron downstairs to the lounge where Gregory and Steven were talking and basking in the heat radiating from the fake electric fireplace. Fake or not, it looked cozy.

The two of them rose from their chairs and greeted Cameron, shaking his hand.

“Good of you to come,” said Gregory.

“Nice to see you again,” said Steven.

Cameron nodded. “I realized I needed to be a little more supportive. I’ve been kind of distant from all of you,” he said.

“We appreciate your coming,” said Diane. “Let me get you some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Not hungry, but a cup of hot coffee, black, would be nice,” he said.

Cameron took off his raincoat and gloves and his straw fedora. Diane thought he looked weary. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hands looked shaky as he handed her his coat. His eyes met hers and for a moment she thought he was looking for something in the depths of hers.

Diane took his wet outer garments from him and laid the coat across the back of a chair and the hat and gloves on the glass table next to it. She poured him a cup of coffee from the pot in the corner, walked back over to where he had taken a seat by Gregory and Steven, and handed it to him. He warmed his hands on the hot mug.

“How is Simone?” he said. “Gregory told me she was critical.” He took a sip of coffee. “I’d forgotten how good your coffee is, Diane,” he said.

“Still in a coma,” said Diane. “We hope she is healing.”

“I was sorry to hear about her. I confess, I don’t quite grasp what is going on,” he said.

“Neither do we,” said Gregory, “but I’ll tell you what we know.”

Gregory laid out everything to Michaels in his meticulous fashion, the rumors, the attack on Simone, and the attack on Diane.

Diane didn’t really want to listen to the whole thing again. But she listened, hoping to hear something that would spark an idea, a memory. She glanced at Cameron’s shoes as Gregory spoke. They had gotten soaked in the rain as he ran for the door. It was a shame. If she wasn’t mistaken, the blucher-style crocodile-skin shoes cost eighteen hundred dollars. She wondered if he was still married. Married men in bureaucratic jobs didn’t spend that much money on shoes.

Frank caught her looking at the shoes. She smiled at him.

Cameron’s clothes were nice too. Expensive. Diane decided he must have gotten a divorce.

David came through the door just as Gregory finished bringing Cameron up to current events. He shook Cameron’s hand and pulled up a chair.

“I just heard from Hannah Payne. Remember her, our photographer in South America? I just got an e-mail from her,” said David. He sounded excited.

Diane was suddenly alert. News. Something. Maybe a piece of information they didn’t have.

“Do you remember how she took photograph after photograph of the massacre that day?”

Gregory, Diane, and Steven nodded. Cameron hadn’t been there. It was not his week to visit. He had come later, after the bodies were removed.

“What did she say?” asked Diane.

“Simone had asked her for all the photographs from the massacre she took that day. She said she mailed Simone a CD of them five months ago. She hasn’t heard from her since.”

“You think that is the package?” said Cameron. “A CD?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s quite a storm out there,” he said. “I had to land in some place called Vidalia and drive up here. Traffic at the Atlanta airport was shut down. Does Rosewood have an airport?”

Diane looked at him, wondering about the non sequitur. “No,” she said.

“Hannah hadn’t really looked at the photographs she took,” said David, who also looked at Cameron a bit puzzled. “She just put them on a CD and stored them.”

“Why weren’t they part of the investigative record?” asked Diane.

“That’s a good question,” said Gregory. “Surely they were part of the record, though I never saw them. The group from the UN did a thorough job. They interviewed all of us for hours,” he said.

“David, do you think that’s what’s in the package?” said Diane.

“I don’t know. There’s something kind of wrong about it. There are more copies available. Why would this particular copy be so important? It’s not a one-of-a-kind set of photographs. That may be part of it, but I’m thinking there is more. Simone got them five months ago. Why didn’t she send them then? It wouldn’t have taken her this long to go through them.”

Diane stood and paced a moment. She turned around. “I wonder why Simone requested the photographs. For whatever reason, perhaps it was something she saw in the photographs that made her want to open Oliver’s boxes, and that started this whole round of investigation,” said Diane.

“Perhaps there was something she thought she remembered,” offered David, “but wasn’t sure. With Hannah’s photographs, she could check her memory.”

“Unfortunately we don’t have Hannah’s photographs here,” said Cameron.

“We will soon,” said David. “Hannah is e-mailing—”

A loud crack of thunder reverberated through the building and the lights went out.

“Damn,” said Gregory.

“There goes the computing power,” said David. “They’ll shut down automatically and won’t come back up until the main electricity comes back on. They don’t take from the generators.” He shook his head and stroked the dark fringe of hair that was a horseshoe circle around his balding head. “I was really hoping we all could brainstorm over the photographs. I know that was going to be painful,” he said, “but we need to figure out if Simone is right.”

Diane felt very relieved that David’s computers had shut down. She couldn’t face those photographs right now. She wasn’t sure she ever could. From the look on the others’ faces, they couldn’t either.

“The generators will kick in in a moment,” said Diane.

Just as she spoke the lights flickered and came up again. “We have a lot of experiments and other things going on in the building that require constant electricity,” said Diane. “David keeps his computers out of the loop to save on electricity.”

“How long will your generators hold out?” said Cameron.

He appeared to Diane to be uncomfortable, disconcerted.

“Several hours,” she said.

“You look like you’re not too good with severe weather,” Frank said to Cameron.

“No, I’m afraid I’m somewhat of a baby in that regard,” he said.

“We appreciate your braving the weather to come here,” said Diane.

“Had I known you were in for such inclement weather, I’d have had second thoughts,” he said. “But I wanted you to know we have discovered that it was not you who killed the men in South America.” He grinned at Diane. “It was some archaeologist named Lindsay Chamberlain. She must have been the one into drugs also.”

“I am familiar with her,” said Diane. “Her specialty is archaeology of the southeastern United States. This was her first trip to South America. We believe she was kidnapped and escaped. She has a sterling reputation. I don’t think there is any real possibility she is a murderer or a drug smuggler.”

“Really? Well, my informants must have been wrong,” he said. “This is very strange. But the important thing is, you are not on our wanted list.” He smiled again.

“I appreciate that,” said Diane. “One less thing to worry about.” She rubbed her shoulders as if they suddenly felt the extra weight lifted from them.

The door swung open and Korey Jordan entered, heading toward Diane.

“Hey, Dr. F.,” he said. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you have guests.”

“This is Korey Jordon. He’s our head conservator,” said Diane. “He keeps all our collections in good condition.”

“Yeah, well, we have some problems there,” he said. “The storm, the electricity, the computers.” He threw up his hands. “The worst has happened—the dermestids are loose in my lab and in several exhibits, including the primate exhibit. I’m thinking they may like resin. This really shit—” He looked at Diane’s guests. “Sorry for the language, but dermestids are a disaster for the museum.”

Diane’s eyes grew wide. “They’re all over the museum?”

“Are they dangerous?” said Cameron.

“Are they mine?” said David.

“Dermestid beetles are what I and the animal curator use to strip the flesh from bones,” said Diane. “The colonies are sequestered. David keeps mine in the crime lab; the mammal curator keeps hers in her lab. They aren’t dangerous to humans unless you happen to be allergic to them. However, they eat museum exhibits. God, this is a disaster.” She closed her eyes and put her fingertips on her eyelids. “Shit is right. We have to contain this.” She dropped her hands and stood up.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Gregory.

“If you see a bug, step on it,” said Korey. “You know, I hate those things.”

“I’m sorry. I have to attend to this.” She turned to Cameron. “You look exhausted. We have some bedrooms here that are very nice if you would like to refresh yourself.”

“I may do that. I would kind of like to be alone. I hadn’t expected this would be so painful after all this time,” he said. “And I am tired.”

Diane nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll point him in the right direction,” said Gregory to Diane. “You and David go attend to your bug problem.”

“Want some moral support?” said Frank.

“I may need your superior problem-solving skills,” she said.

The three of them left the room with Korey. Diane felt sick. She felt like she was destroying the museum. How had this happened? The beetles weren’t secured by electric locks.

“I don’t get it,” said David. “I’m sure our dermestids are secure.”

“We need to go to the conservation lab first,” Korey said.

Diane rushed up the steps to the second floor, toward where the conservation lab was located. Frank and David were close behind.

“Slow down, Dr. F.,” said Korey. “The beetles are fine.”