Beverly Connor - One Grave Too Many

Diane was disappointed. She wanted to hear news about Frank-good news.

“Yes?”

“I’ve made arrangements for us to see her in an hour. I know this is short notice, but. .”

“Shall I meet you at the jail?”

“That would be fine. I’ll see you there.”

Yes, it would be fine, she thought. Then when she saw Frank she could tell him how Star was doing.

Diane stood up. “Can I have your attention?” Everyone stopped and looked over at her. “First, I want to thank you, both for the quality and the speed of work you are doing. I can see you’ve been putting in overtime to get this done, and I appreciate it. I have to go back into town, but I’d like you to get the human remains drawn, mapped and out today, if you can. Jonas, would you bring them to my office at the museum? And please don’t tell anyone what they are.”

The excavators looked at each other as if they were all members of a conspiracy.

“Sure thing,” said Jonas.

Jonas walked her back to the creek crossing. Diane eyed him as he wiped his neck with a bandana.

“You doing OK?” she asked.

“Me? I think I’m doing better than you are.”

“That’s not saying much.”

“I’m doing just fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Good. You guys are doing a terrific job.”

“We’re glad to do it. I’m glad to do it. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“That episode last night. Did you get any sense of danger from it?”

“No. I had the idea that whoever it was, was more frightened than we were. For us, it was no more than pot hunters. You think it was the murderer?”

Jonas said the word murderer as if he were incredulous over the possibility. She doubted archaeologists ever dealt with murderers.

“I don’t know, Jonas,” she said.

Diane crossed the creek and hiked back to her car. Inside she stopped and rested a moment before she put the key in the ignition. What she would have liked to do is go home and sleep. Instead, she drove to the Rosewood jail.

Rosewood’s jail was new. The interview room they were allowing the lawyer and Diane to use smelled of paint and disinfectant.

“It seems like it’s taking a long time,” said Diane, looking at her watch.

“Yes, it does,” said Serena Ellison. “I hate it when they have me cooling my heels.”

As if someone had been waiting outside listening for the time when Diane and the lawyer were the most impatient, the door suddenly swung open. Star, escorted by the guard, slouched into the room wearing a bright orange jumpsuit. She was pale and looked thin in the baggy, ill-fitting clothes.

“How’s Uncle Frank?” she said as she came through the door.

“He’s doing well,” said Diane. “I saw him this morning and he was much improved from yesterday.”

Star came to the table and sat down. The guard looked for a moment like she was going to stay until Star’s lawyer shot her a stern glare.

“How are you doing?” asked Diane.

She shrugged. “It’s boring and the guards are mean.”

“How are they mean?” asked Serena.

“They say stuff to me, like I’m going to hell.”

“Are they doing anything else mean? Hitting you, withholding your food?”

“Withholding the food would be a kindness around here. No, they don’t hit me or anything. They shove a little, that’s all.” She looked at her lawyer. “Can’t you get me out of here?”

“I’m going to try again today. But you have to have a place to go.”

Star looked like she would cry.

“She can stay with me,” said Diane. Probably too rashly, but the grateful look on Star’s face was worth it.

“That’ll be good. Now Star, don’t get your hopes up about getting out today or tomorrow. Most likely they won’t grant bail, but they might, and I’ll keep trying,” said Serena.

“The important thing,” said Diane, “is that you take care of yourself. I’ll come see you as often as I can, but I don’t know how often that’ll be. I’m making progress with the case, and Frank’s getting better. Hold on to that.”

Star nodded.

“And be polite,” said Serena. “It won’t kill you. If you act hard, they’ll think you’re hard and treat you that way.”

“When I get out of here, can we sue them?”

“We’ll see,” said Serena. “Let’s take care of one case at a time.”

It was hard to watch Star being led back to jail, and Diane was glad to be rid of the place when she left. She could only imagine what it must be like to not be able to leave. She thanked Serena Ellison and headed to the museum.

When Diane saw her office upon her first arrival at the museum, she thought her private bathroom was nice, but a little extravagant. Lately, she’d been using it as much as her apartment bathroom and was glad to have it. She showered, changed clothes and put on enough makeup to look presentable.

She told Andie to screen her calls, and she settled in to work on her backlog of paperwork. If she didn’t get caught up, her detractors wouldn’t have to resort to pranks to try and remove her; she’d sabotage herself. First, however, she called the hospital to check on Frank. “Critical” was all they would tell her.

Diane worked on museum business and found it to be a nice break from the past few days. That’s great, she thought, thinking of her main job as a break. . She shook her head as she signed a requisition form.

It was almost two o’clock when she heard raised voices in Andie’s office. Andie was trying to tell someone Diane couldn’t be disturbed. Diane rose as the door burst open. A woman stood in front of her desk. She was in her early thirties, Diane guessed. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a severe french twist. She wore a brown pantsuit, crisply pressed. Her brow was furrowed into an angry expression.

“Can I help you?” said Diane, sitting back down.

“You can help by minding your own damn business.”

Diane’s gaze shifted from her desk, filled with piles of paperwork, and back up to the stranger. “I am.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Detective Janice Warrick.”

“All right, Detective Warrick, what is your complaint?”

“Who are you to mess around with my cases? I doubt you’d appreciate it if I came here and started setting up my own exhibits.”

“What cases are you referring to?”

She leaned forward. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. The Boone murders.”

“As I explained to the mayor, I’ve been engaged to help the defense. I didn’t go into your crime scene until it was released. And I did so with permission of the owner. So what are you referring to?”

“The reports in the media about me botching the case and arresting the wrong person-that’s what I’m referring to.”

“I haven’t been watching the media, but surely you aren’t denying the defense the right to have its theory of the crime?”

“No. It’s the character assassination, the lies. Do you know how hard it was for me to rise to detective in this town? We have the killer behind bars, and she’s going to stay there-despite your efforts to free her. In case you haven’t heard, the judge denied her bail again. At least some people aren’t buying your hokum.” Her lips thinned into a grim smile. “I heard you offered to take her home with you. I guess you can’t help taking in strays.”

Diane’s face hardened. She locked her gaze with Warrick’s as she rose to her feet. The image of the mayor came into her mind, as did his mean-spirited insinuations. This woman was like him, even though separated by two levels of bureaucracy-the commissioner and the chief of detectives.