Dead Past - By Beverly Connor Page 0,47

best they can, exactly when was the last time anyone can confirm that the missing items were still here. I’ve been in touch with the GBI and the FBI. Right now the value is not enough for them to sit up and take a lot of notice. But they are helping me look at collectors who are known to buy stolen property. I’ve asked all the departments to go over their inventory. That’s how Geology discovered the gemstones. The collection manager is beside herself. Someone put fake gems in place of the real ones so no one would notice anything was missing. She said Mike was going to be furious when he gets back from wherever he is.”

“He’s searching for extremophiles in caves in Brazil.”

“Lord have mercy . . . whatever that is. It’s an education every time I talk to one of these curators.”

Diane smiled. “Has Archaeology suffered any losses? They have some valuable artifacts.”

“I asked Jonas Briggs. He said no. I think he was a little offended.” She grinned. “But you know him.”

“Keep on this,” she said. “Keep me informed of all developments.”

“We will, Dr. Fallon. We’ve been talking with Dr. Williams while you’ve been working on those poor students’ remains. That whole business is just simply awful.”

“Yes, it is. It’s caused a lot of profound grief. It’s going to take a long time to recover—if ever. You don’t really recover from the loss of a child.”

“No, ma’am, you don’t.”

Diane called Kendel Williams and asked her to meet her in front of Aquatics. She left Security, which was in the east wing, and walked to Aquatic Animals, which was in the west wing. On the way she passed the museum store and she wondered if they had had anything stolen. She stepped into the store and asked the manager. She was putting Dora the Explorer dolls on the shelf.

“Stolen?” She ran a hand through her platinum hair and shook her head. “No. Not here. We occasionally get someone trying to shoplift, but the detector always catches them.”

“Let Security know if anything turns up missing.”

“Of course.”

On her way out of the shop she met Kendel.

“What’s up?” Kendel asked.

“Some personnel business. I need a witness. I think she’s going to be a problem and I’m just being cautious.”

Kendel’s fine brown hair was in a smooth French twist today. Different from the usual turned under, shoulder length do. Her brown eyes and soft voice fooled a lot of people when they met her. She could negotiate for museum items with the best, and was hard-nosed about it. She had acquired several nice pieces for RiverTrail. Diane was glad to have her as assistant director.

“Troublesome. That would be Whitney Lester,” said Kendel.

Diane and Kendel continued on to Aquatics just across the west-wing foyer. The museum hadn’t opened yet, so there was no one among the exhibits. They passed the shells, and Diane lingered a moment at a few of them before she went into the lab.

Juliet was there working on the educational kits. All the kits were popular with teachers. Juliet and her counterparts from different departments put together examples of shells, or rocks, or fossils, whatever the subject was, into a box, along with lesson plans, activities, and educational material. They couldn’t keep enough in stock, even though the kits were not for keeping but for checking out and returning to the museum. Several schools in the area designed their science classes around the kits.

“Hello, Juliet, how are you this morning?” asked Diane.

Juliet looked up, startled. “Oh, fine. I’m fine. Really.” She smiled at Kendel, tugged at her long sleeves, and went back to work.

“Is Mrs. Lester in?”

Juliet nodded without looking up. “Yes. She’s been in about an hour talking on the phone.” Juliet bit her lip. “You should gird your loins.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Diane knocked on the door.

“Juliet, I’m busy. I told you when I arrived that I don’t want to be disturbed. I meant it.”

Diane exchanged glances with Kendel and knocked on the door louder.

Chapter 19

“Damn it, Juliet. . . .” The door swung open and Diane and Kendel came nose-to-nose with a red-faced Whitney Lester. “Dr. Fallon. Dr. Williams. I didn’t realize. . . . Actually, I’m glad it’s you. I need to talk to you.”

“Then we have mutual needs,” said Diane.

She entered and closed the door behind her. Diane and Kendel sat in the two chairs in front of the desk.

Diane took an index card from her pocket and handed it to Mrs. Lester. “Andie wrote

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