Beverly Connor - Dead Past

“Cause it’ll get crushed in my pocket, ma’am. I’ve been trying not to start back, so I bum cigarettes instead of buying them. That way, I have only one at a time.” He took the cigarette between his fingers and looked at it. “Actually, I prefer a Marlboro, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Who did you bum that from?” asked Diane.

“Archie Donahue,” he said.

So, perhaps David’s statistics were right after all.

“Well, I wish you luck in your efforts to stop smoking,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He folded his pad of paper and put it in his pocket with his pen. He stuck his cigarette back behind his ear and left.

Diane finished her breakfast, pondering what she’d learned. Which was what? Archie smoked Dorals? Not much. Hardly anything. There were probably others in the department who smoked them. Certainly not an indictment. She closed her eyes to think.

What did the person who attacked Jin hit him with-butt of his gun, nightstick, rock? I should have stayed up on the ridge to look for blunt instruments. Instead, I left the policemen there to look while I took Jin to the doctor. Ample chance to move the weapon to a new location. Damn. But if the weapon was something he carries, he may have only wiped the blood off. We could still find blood and bits of Jin’s flesh. But everybody knows about blood nowadays, especially policemen. He’d have cleaned it with kerosene or bleach. We might at least be able to detect that. And that would still leave us nowhere.

“I need to get out of here,” she said out loud.

“Not until the doctor says you can go.”

She opened her eyes and looked at Frank. She had forgotten to call him. Damn. He pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Why aren’t you at work?” she said.

“I had business in Rosewood today. It doesn’t happen often that there’s a Rosewood connection with a case I’m working on, but when it does happen, I take advantage of it. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I meant to, but I got conked on the head and forgot-really,” she said.

“David told me what happened this morning when I called the crime lab,” he said. “I’ll take you home. When are you being released?”

“As soon as I see the doctor,” said Diane.

Just as she said it, the doctor entered her room.

“Your CT scan was fine. You can go home. Get plenty of rest and sleep. We’ll give you a list of symptoms to watch for. If any of them occurs, call or come back here immediately.”

“Thanks. I’m ready to get out of here,” said Diane.

He smiled, handed her a prescription for pain pills, and went off to see other patients.

Diane got dressed and was still waiting thirty minutes later for someone to come and get her, tell her she could go, or… something.

“Be patient,” said Frank.

“I really don’t like hospitals,” said Diane. “And I don’t like waiting. I think I’ll start charging for my waiting time. Maybe it’ll get my bill down to some reasonable amount.”

“Isn’t irritability one of the signs you’re supposed to watch out for?” said Frank.

She was about to retort when the nurse came with the paperwork and a wheelchair. Diane signed the paperwork.

“I don’t need the wheelchair,” she said.

“Everyone leaves in a wheelchair. It’s hospital policy,” said the nurse.

“It’s not mine,” said Diane and walked out ahead of Frank and the nurse.

Frank caught up with her. “Diane, don’t you think you’d better slow down? What’s up with you?”

“I just want out of here. Do you know how much time I’ve spent in the hospital-either visiting people I care about or being a patient myself?”

“Yes, but something besides your concussion has you irritated,” he said.

“Right now, one of the suspects I have in mind for the killings of McNair and Stanton is someone I like. And I absolutely hate that. My gut reaction is to just let him go, and I don’t like that feeling, either. I’m at odds with myself and it’s damned uncomfortable. Plus, it pisses me off when a fish steals my bait.”

After Diane had insisted on being taken to the museum instead of home, Frank insisted on an explanation of what happened to her. She fumbled through an account of her intention to use the code to catch the doll thief-and probably Joana Cipriano’s murderer.

“Tell me again, how was this plan supposed to work?” asked Frank as he drove toward the museum.

“I told you, I hadn’t thought it out enough to implement it. He struck too soon,” she said.

“You know, you come up with some of the worst plans,” said Frank. “Remember that one in your museum vault?”

“I wasn’t finished with this one-there was no plan being played out. They just came and attacked me. The result would have been the same had I not been thinking of a plan at all. As it is, they do have the wrong code.”

“You may have delayed them, but how does that get you closer to catching them?” asked Frank.

“It doesn’t,” said Diane. “I was going to use the forged code as bait to catch them. How many times do I have to go over this so that you understand it? There was nothing I did, no plan I put in motion that caused them to come after me. They did this on their own.”

Frank pulled into the museum parking lot and Diane got out. The first place she headed was to Security. Frank followed and started to open the door for her, but she beat him to it. Everyone stopped what they were doing when Diane walked in.

“Dr. Fallon.” The receptionist, a student in criminology from Bartram, smiled meekly. “It’s good to see you. I hope…” She hesitated and smiled, looking embarrassed. “I’ll get Napier. She’s in the video room reviewing recordings.” She left to get Chanell.

I must look a fright, thought Diane. Everyone looks scared.

Chanell came hurrying out of the video room.

“Dr. Fallon, I hardly know what to say. Please come into my office and I’ll fill you in on what we’ve found so far.”

“I’ll hang around out here,” said Frank.

Diane went in the office with Chanell and sat down.

“What have you found?” she asked.

“Like you suggested, we looked at the people who were in the building for classes. We cross-referenced the security recordings to the class rolls. We’ve found a couple of people to look at. However, Dr. Shane-she’s teaching the bird watching series-does not keep good records. We had her in here telling us who all of her students are. There are a couple of new ones she didn’t know.” She stopped and took a breath. “So far, that’s all we have.”

“Do you know how my attacker got in this section?” Diane asked.

“We’re thinking he or she-it could have been a woman-got in during museum hours. There was a period of time when some of the docents and exhibit specialists were away from their usual stations visiting Public Relations. We think he or she stayed-maybe in the bathroom or a storage closet-until closing. No one is on the video slipping in or breaking in the front or back entrance of this wing.”

Diane rose. “Let me know when you have more.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Chanell.

Diane left and headed for the crime lab.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she told Frank.

“Tired of my company already?” he said.

“I don’t want to keep you from your appointment,” she said.

“I’ve already had my appointment-early this morning. I’m all yours all day to watch your six.”

They rode the elevator to the third floor and crossed over to the west wing. Darth Vader was still on guard.

“I probably need to put him at the front entrance,” said Diane as she crossed over the rope and went toward the door to the crime lab.