protein powder, orange juice, and strawberry yogurt. It was one of her favorite power drinks. She took it and looked at him gratefully. He guided her to the stuffed chair and put her feet on the ottoman. Those at the table pulled their chairs around to face her. Diane took a few sips of the drink before she began telling them her story.
Chapter 11
Diane told the story as if giving a report—clear, concise, dispassionate. She captured their attention from the start with the tree falling on the hood of her SUV and the appearance of the skeleton. Their jaws dropped an inch and they stared at her. Hector started to speak. Diane saw Jin giving him a warning glance, apparently sensing that she needed to get it out. Like her tears, the story needed to flow out of her in its own way and time.
She told them about Slick—though she hadn’t known his name at the time—trying to grab her; about her trek through the woods in the lightning and rain, chased by dogs—or at least trailed by dogs; about the mysterious stranger; about finding the Barres in their home, still in their nightwear, with their throats cut. She described how she and Deputy Conrad went back to the house on Massey Road, and finding that her things had been rifled through. She described meeting Slick Massey and Tammy Taylor. She also told them about the plastic skeleton they tried to pawn off as part of her “delusion.” She took sips of her drink during the story, and by the time the story was done, so was her power drink.
David let out a sigh and rubbed the dark fringe around his mainly bald head. “I don’t know where to start,” he said.
“Well, dang, Diane,” said Izzy, “I figured you were just out of gas somewhere and couldn’t get to a telephone.”
Diane smiled, glad for the levity. Oddly, no one had any questions immediately. Perhaps not odd at all. Like David, none of them knew quite where to start.
“So,” said Hector, “they pilfered your stuff, and he brought it back and threw it at your feet. What was that about?”
“They don’t want anyone investigating the skeleton, I suppose,” said Diane. “And it was also a thinly veiled threat. He was telling me he knows where to find me.”
“The bastard,” said David. “The low- life bastard.”
“Well, who was the skeleton?” asked Hector. He had removed his lab coat, revealing a bright blue-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt. He and his brother looked vaguely like Elvis—if one squinted one’s eyes—and sometimes they subtly dressed like him.
“How would she know that?” said Jin.
“I thought maybe someone was missing or something. It’s just really weird,” Hector said.
“You think this stranger you met in the woods might be the killer?” asked Frank.
“I don’t know.” Diane picked up the poncho and rolled-up rain hat on the table beside her.
“Jin, I want you to look this poncho over for any signs whatsoever of blood. The killer would have been drenched in it. It rained hard practically the whole time I was out, but the poncho has a drawstring and stitching.”
“Sure, boss,” said Jin.
She rose from the chair and went to a cabinet where she kept a supply of bags for storing evidence. Oddly enough, there were several times she had use for them here in the museum side. Sometimes it seemed as if the museum and the crime lab were slowly coalescing. She sat back down again and unwrapped the knife.
“I want you to examine this knife. Take it completely apart. I want to know if there’s any blood on it.” She dropped it in the bag. She put the hat in another one. “Look at the hat too. I may have cross- contaminated it, but at the time I didn’t have anything else to wrap the knife in.”
“And why didn’t you turn all this over to the sheriff or, rather, his representative?” asked Frank.
Frank’s face looked stern, but Diane knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t angry. Just concerned.
“In the absence of a warrant, I didn’t think it was right to hand over something that was loaned to me,” said Diane. “Sheriff Leland Conrad spends the least amount of money on criminal justice of any sheriff in Georgia. He runs for election on what he describes as his commonsense approach to crime. And he believes he is right. To him it will be common sense that it was a stranger in the woods in possession of a knife