The Night Killer

of the secretaries while she worked at her desk going over ideas from the exhibit planners for a new ocean exhibit.

She heard a rustling in Andie’s office, then a knock at her door.

“Enter,” she said, looking up from her work.

“Dr. Fallon, I’m so sorry to be late. I just. . time just got away. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Diane smiled at her. “Did you have a good time?”

“Oh, yes.” Andie pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning her forearms on Diane’s desk. “I think I’m falling in love. It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

Diane closed the folders in front of her and gave Andie her attention.

“Two days-yes, but it’s not too soon to fall in love with the possibility of being in love. I caught a glimpse of … What is his name, by the way?”

“William Dugal. He goes by Liam. You saw him. Isn’t he gorgeous?” Andie said, her auburn curls bobbing as she nodded her head.

“From what I could see, definitely,” said Diane, smiling at her. “I was hoping to meet him, but I had to run over to the crime lab.”

“I’m hoping he’ll be around awhile,” said Andie, unconsciously dipping her fingers into Diane’s desk fountain and letting the water run over them.

“What does he do?” asked Diane. “You mentioned something about the military?”

“He recently retired from the military and is thinking about going to school,” said Andie. “He’s been looking at different universities.”

“Retired?” said Diane.

“Yeah, he’s kind of older than I am-by about twelve years,” she said, making the kind of face that Diane knew meant she was afraid Diane was going to disapprove.

“He certainly looks a lot younger,” said Diane. “Obviously keeps in shape.”

“He definitely does that.” Andie grinned.

“Did you say he is interested in museums?”

Andie nodded. “I gave him one of our booklets on museology. He likes the traveling part especially. I think he’d enjoy acquiring pieces for a museum. He’s particularly interested in geology and archaeology. I thought I’d introduce him to Mike and Jonas when they get back. He really enjoyed the exhibits in their departments. He was impressed with Mike’s organized approach, and thought our mummy was cool, but wanted to see more Native American artifacts. I told him we had a collection of points donated to us that were very striking. I didn’t talk about the Barres.” Andie’s face grew solemn. “That didn’t seem to be appropriate.”

She paused and, as if just realizing she had a hand in Diane’s fountain, she snatched it away. Diane handed her a tissue to dry her fingers.

“Anyway,” Andie continued, “we’re going to have dinner and a movie tomorrow evening in Atlanta. And I’m talking a lot, aren’t I? I hope I don’t do that with him.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” said Diane.

Andie bobbed her head up and down again. “Me too. It’s so nice to have someone who likes to listen to me go on about the museum. Speaking of the museum, I was wondering if I could have tomorrow off. I know I didn’t put in ahead of time, but. .”

“Sure, just have someone cover for you here,” said Diane.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Thank you. Oh, by the way, the first of the T-shirts arrived today. They are really cool. Very detailed and sparkly.”

“Which ones arrived?” asked Diane.

“ ‘Geology Rocks,’ ‘Archaeology Is a Thing of the Past,’ ‘Seashells by the Seashore,’ and the Vitruvian Man,” said Andie.

Diane smiled. She was particularly interested in seeing Vitruvian Man. That was the design she had picked out for the primate department. Diane had asked every department to submit designs for T-shirts for the docents to wear and to sell in the museum shop. Her staff was very big on T-shirts and jumped into the project with such enthusiasm she thought that overnight they had become couturiers.

“I hope the dinosaur shirts arrive soon,” said Andie. “I think they are going to be really popular. The designs are very dramatic.” She stood up abruptly. “I’d better get back to work.” She started to leave, but hesitated. “I appreciate the time off on short notice; really, I do. Thanks.” She darted out of the office before Diane could say anything.

Diane finished reviewing the ideas for the ocean exhibit that was to combine collections from several of the museum’s departments. She wrote up her comments on the computer and sent them to the planners.

She sat at her desk a moment before summoning up the strength to go to the crime lab and look at the newest crime scene photos. She told Andie she was crossing over to her other job and walked to the Dark Side, as her staff liked to call the section that housed the crime lab and her osteology lab. She went to her vault to view the photographs, cocooned in her own secure space.

David had already entered the photographic information into the crime scene reconstruction program. She knew he would do it quickly. She looked at the photograph of the Watsons in their dining room. Variation on a theme. Same poses, different people. Pine dining room set instead of mahogany.

The photographs of the Watson crime scene were clearer than the ones she took with her camera phone at the Barres’, and there were close-ups. She noted the hair first. There was the same ruffled-up hair on the tops of their heads, as if the killer had grabbed their hair with one hand, pulled back the head, and slit their throats. Next she looked at the blood splatter. It was remarkably similar to the Barre pattern. They were tied with duct tape to their chairs, same as the Barres.

Both the Watsons were in their nightwear. It looked like they-just as had the Barres-had let the killer in while they were dressed in their nightclothes. If there was no break-in, then they had to know their assailant. Diane didn’t care how friendly these people were; you didn’t let strangers into your house in the middle of the night. Not dressed in your nightclothes.

Their eyes were closed and they were leaning back, as if in comfortable repose.

Odd.

Why was that? Was that something the killer did? Then why didn’t he close the Barres’ eyes? Someone else closed their eyes and repositioned the bodies, perhaps? Someone found them dead and closed their eyes, thinking they were showing respect by doing it?

Something to ask Travis about. Diane hoped it wasn’t someone in the sheriff’s office who did it. Perhaps it was just a difference in the way the Barres and the Watsons had approached their deaths and it meant nothing.

She searched the room, grid by grid, the way she had with the Barre photographs. Nothing stood out. She didn’t find any footprint stains on the rug. No indication how the killer left.

Diane took a breath and examined the close-up photographs of the Watsons. The wounds were deep-deeper than the Barres’ appeared to be. Sharper knife, or more confidence? She looked for any indication of tool marks that might be used to identify the weapon. There was only blood and flesh to be seen in the photographs.

Leaving the close-ups, she called up the virtual tour David had put together. She explored the living room, but found nothing that stood out. She’d never been in the Watsons’ house and she had no way of knowing whether anything was missing. She looked for any place on a table or shelf where something might have been, but now was gone. Nothing. She noted that in both the living room and dining room, there were no doors or drawers left open. Everything was closed. What did that mean? Anything?

No more photographs. Travis had taken pictures only of the dining room and living room, as she had at the Barres’. She had limited herself to taking only those photos because she wasn’t free to walk about the house in someone else’s crime scene. Travis was under no such restriction. She shook her head. He really was in over his head.

Diane left the photographs and the vault. She’d had enough of grisly murder for the day. She locked up, checked in with David and Izzy, and drove home. All the way there, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being followed.