down several dates and times for the management class.”
“That is what I wanted to speak with you about.” Whitney Lester laced her fingers in front of her. “I’ve talked with the state Human Resources Department to find out what my rights are.”
She paused, Diane supposed to let the weight of her words sink in.
“They tell me you can’t force me to take classes that I don’t want or need.”
“No, I can’t. However, I can release you from your job,” said Diane.
“They say you can’t.” Whitney folded her arms across her chest.
“If you want to make this a case of your lawyer versus the museum’s lawyers, that’s your prerogative and I won’t even try to talk you out of it. I don’t know, of course, how you presented your claim to Human Resources, but if I find that you aren’t able to do your job according to the standards laid out in your contract and in the museum’s handbook, I have an obligation to inform you of your shortcomings and provide a way to remedy your deficits. You of course can refuse. I can then let you go.”
“This course”—she flipped the card so that it slid across her desk, stopping near the edge—“has nothing to do with my knowledge of marine life and my ability to keep track of the collection.”
“On the contrary. First, part of your job is to manage staff, not just inanimate objects. As for the inanimate objects that you manage, had you gone to Security with the information of the theft, you would have discovered that almost all of the departments have had recent thefts similar to yours. It was your management style that stopped you from doing that and therefore stopped you from taking more effective action to manage the collection. As it is, Security was delayed getting the information. Time is an important element in recovering stolen items. Security has been looking for the stolen items. They didn’t know to include the seashells.”
Whitney Lester’s mouth sagged. The defiant glint in her gray eyes went out. She looked defeated. Diane imagined the news of the other thefts was an unexpected blow to her carefully constructed scenario of how she had been wronged.
“Other departments have had items stolen?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes, and Dr. Price is not a suspect in any of them,” said Diane. “I can’t force you to go to these classes. But despite what the person at Human Resources told you, I can and will let you go if you refuse.”
Kendel sat relaxed in the chair with her legs crossed. She always managed to look elegant. Diane envied her for that. She also knew that was part of Kendel’s presentation when she negotiated—looking relaxed before she pounced. Kendel reminded Diane of a lion. Here, however, Kendel was a witness; pouncing wasn’t part of the task. Diane imagined she was content to watch. Kendel kept a pleasant smile on her face as if Diane were discussing the acquisition of a new collection of shells with Whitney.
Diane stood and Kendel stood with her. Whitney remained seated. “I guess I have no choice,” she said.
“We all have choices,” said Diane. “And we all must accept the consequences of our choices. This is not meant to be a punishment.” She and Kendel left Whitney in her office, furious, from the look on her face. Juliet, still looking like she was about to fade into the ether, was working with a tray of Turridae.
“Thanks for witnessing, Kendel,” said Diane when they were out of Aquatics.
“No problem.” Kendel walked with Diane until they reached one of the stairwells. Kendel nearly always used the stairs. “I have to visit the Preparation Department,” she said as she started to mount the stairs. “I think that went well. However, I would have hurt her and wouldn’t have had witnesses.” Kendel smiled, turned and walked up the stairs.
Diane laughed and shook her head. She took the elevator to the third floor and crossed over to the wing where the crime lab was located.
David, Jin, and Neva, sipping freshly brewed coffee, were sitting at the round corner table.
“We were just discussing McNair,” said David. “What is that guy about?”
“Glory, control, following his uncle’s agenda,” said Diane, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “This current fiasco is about the coming election. We haven’t had a crime this high profile and McNair and company want credit for bringing justice to all the families who also happen to vote in Rosewood.”