she was because he had been to the museum, probably on more than one occasion.
“Darcy’s crazy about him,” said Juliet, sipping on her orange juice. “She doesn’t like his parents much. She said his mother’s a real nut job.”
“Was he at the museum often? I don’t recall seeing him here,” said Diane.
“He was here with her a lot. He said he was thinking about going into a career in museum work, so Darcy showed him around all the departments and let him watch her plan some of the exhibits. Some people actually thought he worked here. He was really helpful to everyone.”
I’ll bet he was, thought Diane. A little con artist in training—gain their trust and raid their pantry.
“He was a student.” It was a statement, but Diane made it sound like a question.
“He’s one of those students who never graduates.” Juliet sighed. “Darcy is going to be devastated. She was really in love with him.”
“I get the feeling you didn’t think too much of him.”
“I don’t—didn’t really,” she said. She put her juice on the table. “I got the impression he didn’t really like her as much as she liked him. You know when a guy likes you, he looks at you a lot, even when you aren’t looking at him. He never looked at her. He looked at other women, but rarely at her.”
Interesting observation, thought Diane. “I appreciate you talking to me about Darcy,” said Diane. “We’re all hoping she recovers quickly. I met her parents. They’re nice people.”
“Darcy’s crazy about her parents. She really cares what they think of her. A lot of people my age don’t. Myself, I have much lower expectations. I only care that they don’t think I’m crazy.” She smiled.
Diane smiled with her. “They can put their minds at ease if they think that. There’s a big difference between coping strategies and crazy.”
Juliet picked up her orange juice and stood up.
“That’s what Dr. Hillard says.”
She smiled again as she headed for the door.
“Maybe she’ll give me a certificate of saneness that I can frame and hang on the wall.”
“Say hello to Darcy for me,” said Diane. “By the way, how is Whitney Lester treating you?”
“She sort of gives me the cold shoulder, which I accept gladly.”
After Juliet left, Diane sat on the couch for several minutes thinking. The problem had been solved of how Blake managed to gain access to the back rooms of the museum, and she didn’t like the answer. It presented a new and more difficult problem. Did Darcy know what he was doing? Was she helping? Diane didn’t want to interrogate Darcy while she was recovering, but she wanted to get the museum’s property back. Damn.
Of course Diane had known it had to be someone on the inside, but she’d been rejecting the idea. She got up from the couch and headed for Security.
“Chanell,” she said as she knocked on her open door.
“Dr. Fallon, I was just about to come and see you. We found Mrs. Van Ross’ diamond, along with several other stones from the geology exhibit.” Chanell’s black eyes glittered with triumph.
Diane closed the door and sat down in the chair near her desk. “You found them? Where?”
“Actually, it was a fourth grader on one of the tours late yesterday. He was digging in the potted palms near the entrance and came up with a bag of jewels. His teacher saw him pocket them and brought them to the information desk. It turned out to be the missing stones. And I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue as to how they got there.”
Diane could only imagine. Had Blake gotten cold feet?
“I found out who the thief is,” said Diane. “His name was Blake Stanton. He’s the young man who was murdered.”
“That boy?” said Chanell. “I’m sorry, Dr. Fallon, I don’t know how he got access to the museum. But I’ll sure be looking into it.”
“Unfortunately, I know that, too. He’s the boyfriend of Darcy Kincaid.”
“Oh, no, not Darcy. That’s a shame. Is she in on it with him, do you know?”
“I don’t know and I’m reluctant to ask right now,” said Diane.
“I understand. Now that we know who’s behind it, we can get a line on the other stolen items. How did you find out it was him?”
Diane explained about the shells being found in her car with his prints on them.
“So, you’ve recovered the shells?”
“Just the golden cowrie shells,” said Diane. “I don’t know where the others are.”
“I’ve instituted a search of all the plants,” said