Beverly Connor - Dust to Dust

When they had finished eating, Diane talked them into dessert. Paloma and her husband ordered pecan pie. Diane and Jonas had chocolate cake. Both were specialties of the restaurant. Mark asked Diane how they pronounced pecan here. Diane told him it was like puh-CON . That a pee-can is a receptacle. He laughed. It took Jonas and Paloma a second for the joke to register. It was good to see Paloma laugh.

“I saw a lot of pieces of broken garden ornaments when I was at the house,” said Diane.

Paloma and Jonas both nodded.

“Mother found a lot of modern artifacts in the yard,” said Paloma. “All kinds of pieces of statues, birdbaths, gargoyles. Someone at some point liked to decorate the garden in all manner of statuary. Mother said it was impossible to tell if they were in the same time frame as the pottery, but she was having a great time.”

Paloma’s eyes were suddenly moist. She blinked and took a drink of water. “Why would anyone hurt her so cruelly?” she asked.

Diane didn’t think she expected an answer. There was never a good enough answer to satisfy that question.

“She had some paintings on the living room wall that were stolen the night of the attack,” said Diane. “Three portraits. Do you know anything about them?”

“She didn’t have them when I was over at her house a couple of weeks ago,” offered Jonas.

Paloma nodded. “She called me last week, so excited. They were hidden inside a wall in one of the upstairs rooms. She found them when she tore out the wall for a doorway. She thought they might have been done by the same artist who did the pottery.”

“Inside a wall? Interesting. Were the paintings signed?” asked Diane.

“I don’t know,” said Paloma. “I couldn’t talk to her very long that evening; I was late to a meeting.” She started to cry and her husband pulled her over to him and hugged her.

Diane wished she had something comforting to say.

After a minute Paloma straightened up and took another drink of water. “Sorry. It’s just so unfair.”

“Yes, it is,” said Diane.

“She told me one of the sheds out back was a potter’s shed,” said Paloma. “It was mostly filled with a lot of junk, but she found some pieces of furniture there that she wanted to refinish. She was like a kid in a candy store with all the stuff she was finding.” Paloma smiled. “Most people would have thought it all junk and trash. Archaeologists have a different view about old things.”

“Yes, we do,” said Jonas.

Diane almost mentioned the odd note on the bottom of the desk drawer, but decided not to say anything. It seemed, at this particular moment, a little too disturbing. Instead, she changed the subject to the mummy the museum inherited a year ago and all the surprises that came with it. By the end of dessert, Paloma seemed to be feeling better.

Mark glanced around the restaurant. “I don’t see our waitress,” he said.

“Would you like something else?” asked Diane.

He grinned. “Oh, no, this will last me well into next week. I was just looking for the check.”

“She won’t be coming with a check,” said Jonas. “It’s a little-known secret that when Diane brings a guest to the restaurant, the waitstaff don’t bring the check to the table. See, in the museum, Diane is queen. Really, it’s true.” Jonas chuckled. “We have a herpetologist who is terrified of Diane and hides when he sees her coming. Afraid he might be banished or something.”

“He lost a snake in the museum,” said Diane. “It turns up at odd times and scares the staff. He can’t seem to catch it or tell me why it’s still in the building. It should have made its way outside by now.”

Paloma and Mark both laughed. “We appreciate all this,” said Mark. “It’s comforting to get to town and not be strangers.”

“I’m just sorry your visit is for this reason,” said Diane. She paused. “I really think Marcella will come out of it.” I’m hoping , she thought.

“She has a very hard head,” said Jonas.

“She does that,” said Paloma.

When they got up to leave, Diane spotted Ross Kingsley at another table. She took her leave of Jonas, Paloma, and Mark and walked over to his table.

“Diane,” he said when she sat down, “I’ll be ready to go to Mr. Dance’s house when I finish. Couldn’t resist the cake here.”

“I had a piece too. I’ll go up to the crime lab and get a kit. You want to pick me up outside the lab?” asked Diane.

“Sure. Look, I really do appreciate your help in this. I don’t know where else I’d get free forensic expertise.” He grinned at her.

Diane laughed. “I don’t know where you’d find a sucker as big as me. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes. Enjoy your cake.”

The crime lab, all shiny glass and chrome, was an agency of the City of Rosewood, which didn’t pay the museum any rent for the space. In exchange for housing the crime lab, the city forgave the museum all its city taxes-taxes they had raised in order to entice Diane into housing the lab. Despite the city’s less than scrupulous way of getting the space, Diane liked the idea of having the crime lab in the museum, and so did the museum board. Otherwise, she would have resisted Rosewood’s little blackmail scheme.

The city’s great deal was compounded for them when they discovered that if they dragged their feet on approving the funds for the purchase of new pieces of expensive forensic equipment requested for the crime lab, Diane would have the museum purchase the equipment and lease it back to the lab, thus avoiding the need for large cash outlays by the city. At least they thought it was a great deal until they realized Diane could indeed pull the plug on the arrangement, boot the lab out of the museum, and keep the sexiest and most expensive pieces of state-of-the-art equipment. It was a sometimes-uneasy alliance, but it worked, and Diane and the city had a great crime lab.

David was in deep conversation with Deven Jin when Diane entered the crime lab. Jin came to the Rosewood Crime Lab from New York where he was a criminalist. He had persuaded Diane to establish a DNA lab in the museum and she had put him in charge. Jin was the youngest member of Diane’s forensic team and the most energetic. He was half Asian, adventurous, and loved his job. It turned out that the DNA lab was one of the more lucrative departments in the museum.

“How are the investigations coming?” said Diane. She pulled out a chair at the round debriefing table and sat down with the two of them.

David ran down the current cases, which were fortunately few. Fewer cases meant less mayhem and murder was going on.

“We have a collection of fibers from Marcella Payden’s place. Mostly collected outside from the second event, the one you were involved in. The fibers are dyed black wool, which we suspect came from the ski masks. There are also several Manila hemp fibers in association with the wool, which may have come from a rope. That may mean the masks and rope were stored together, since there was no report of a rope in connection with the fracas.” David smiled at Diane. “We also have quite a collection of maroon-colored sequins.”

“I’ll bet you do,” said Diane.

“We have several boot prints that are noteworthy,” said David. “A soft-toe work boot from Cherokee, size eleven-about thirty dollars and available at discount stores; Garmont men’s hiking boot, size ten-about two hundred dollars; and an Oliver steel toe safety boot, size ten and a half-about a hundred and fifty dollars. All have wear patterns that will allow us to identify them if we find the boots themselves. Notice the differences in price.”

“I did,” said Diane.