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.
“You think you need to slow down a bit?” said Frank.
“Why?” said Diane.
“Because you just got out of the hospital and you have a concussion?”
“I’m fine,” she said, keying in her code and entering the lab.
David looked up from his computer when she entered.
“You’re looking better than when I left you,” he said. “I just called the hospital and they told me you had been released. I figured you’d be back here.”
Diane sat down at the round table. David and Jin joined her while Neva was on the phone. Frank sat off to one side.
“Archie Donahue smokes Dorals,” Diane said. “Those are probably his you picked up at tent city. There is nothing to connect his Dorals with the ones you found on the ridge.”
“But . . . ,” said David.
“But nothing . . . that’s it,” said Diane.
“That’s not all of it,” said Neva, joining them. “I was talking to someone at the station. Archie Donahue left right after he checked in this morning. No one knows where he went.”
“So it’s in the hands of the police,” said Diane. “Neva, call Garnett and tell him about the Dorals and leave it with him.”
Neva left and made the call to Garnett. It was quick. Diane heard Neva say they didn’t know what it meant; it was just information. None of them wanted the murderer to be a policeman, and if it was, they all had