Diane didn’t go to her museum office. Instead, she went to the crime lab to check in with David. Izzy was out working on a break-in. Fortunately, crime was slow in Rosewood lately. With Neva on vacation, the lab was shorthanded.
“Were there any prints on the lipstick?” she asked David as he came out of a carrel with a piece of paper in his hand.
“Yes, indeed. Our girl Tammy Taylor was arrested for shoplifting ten years ago. I e-mailed the mug shot to Frank,” he said, handing the paper to Diane. “Hopefully she hasn’t aged too much.”
Diane looked down at the copy of the mug shot David had printed out. Frank told Diane that if she could come up with a photograph of Tammy, he and Ben would show it at a few free clinics and homeless shelters on their lunch hour. This should make Ben happy. Frank told her that once Ben got something in his head, he wouldn’t let it go until it was solved. Frank said it as if he himself had no such compulsion.
“It still looks like her,” said Diane. “A little younger perhaps, but anyone who has seen her lately would still recognize her. Thanks, David, for running the prints.”
“Sure. How did your meeting go? Must have been short,” he said.
Diane sat down at their debriefing table and looked at the photograph again, wishing there were clues of some kind in the lines of Tammy’s face. David drew up another chair and sat down. She told him about the phone call.
“It’s so sad for them,” she said, looking up.
“Did the highway patrol have any information about what happened?” he asked.
“Not that they would say over the phone,” said Diane.
“I assume they want you to investigate their parents’ deaths,” he said.
“Yes. That’s what I suspected they wanted when they called last night,” she said.
“So when do we start?” said David. He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in the chair.
“You’re assuming I said
“Of course,” he said.
“I said I would do what I could. But you don’t have to get involved. I’ve used you enough already,” she said.
David wagged his finger. “It’s hit too close to home,” he said. “This whole thing in Rendell County needs resolving-all of it. You know, the sheriff’s stubbornness is damned dangerous. If there’s a serial killer on the loose- and it looks like there is-what makes him think the guy’s going to stay in Rendell County? We all have a stake in this, and he’d better get his ass on the phone to the GBI, or the FBI, and get some help. If he doesn’t, he needs to be taken to court and removed from office. I know some judges here. I could put a bug in their ear.”
Diane smiled.
“Figuratively,” he added, smiling back.
David was an expert in forensic entomology, as well as every other thing they did at the lab. He unlaced his fingers and set all four legs of his chair on the floor with a loud whack just as the elevator doors opened and Izzy stepped out.
“What the hell was that?” Izzy said. “You having a gunfight in here?” He walked over to the two of them and set his evidence case down on the floor and drew up a chair.
“How’d it go?” asked Diane.
“I was diligently working the break-in at that little jewelry shop on Main and Oglethorpe,” Izzy said. “Lifted lots of prints, even got a few fibers on the door-frame where the perp broke in. I’d packed everything up when the owner came and told me and the detective that it was all a big mistake, and he’s sorry, and he would pay any fines for making said mistake. Detective Hanks was pissed. I wasn’t all that happy.”
“What do you think changed his mind?” asked David.
“I think he discovered that his pissant son was the thief,” said Izzy. “So what’s cooking here?” he asked.
Just as he spoke, Diane’s phone rang. She was hoping it was the Barres, but it was Travis.
“Slick and his girlfriend ain’t at home,” he said. “He got a friend to house-sit the dogs. Said he’s coming back tomorrow. We’ll see. The house sitter did say the old lady was with them and she seemed fine,” Travis added.
“Thanks for looking,” said Diane. She told him that Tammy Taylor was in the system.
“I’m not surprised. What’d she do?”
“Shoplifting,” said Diane.
“I’d of expected more than that,” he said. “I suppose that’s just what she got caught at.”
Diane told him about Roy Jr. Barre’s accident. “I don’t have any details.”
“Oh, God, no. Those poor people. Roy Jr. was supposed to come back and go through his parents’ house again with me. I don’t imagine Spence or Christine will feel like it for a while. I’m just real sorry for their trouble.”
Diane heard another call coming in on her phone, so she told Travis she’d be in touch and switched to the other call. It was Brian McEarnest, Christine’s husband.
“Roy Jr.’s in critical condition,” Brian said. “He’s got head injuries, broken bones, and some internal injuries. The doctors couldn’t tell us much. He’s in intensive care. At least he’s alive, and we’re real thankful for that.” Brian paused a beat. “The patrolman told us he was run off the road by another car.”
Chapter 25
“This certainly sheds a little different light on things,” said Izzy.
David shook his head. Diane imagined that he had already suspected something was not right. His paranoid mind railed at coincidences as tragic as what was happening to the Barre family.
“At least the family can deal with White County authorities and not Sheriff Conrad,” said David.
“That’s something,” agreed Diane.
“Who you think did it?” asked Izzy. “The same perp who did the Barres?”
“If it is the same killer,” said Diane, “it suggests that the killings were personal to the Barres. Then what about the Watson family?”
“Maybe Roy Jr. knew something?” said David. “You said he was supposed to go through the house again today. Perhaps there was something the killer didn’t want him to see. Something that was missing that would point to him, maybe.”
“What about the Watsons?” said Izzy.
“The Watsons and the Barres knew one another. They went to the same church. That could be the connection. We need to talk to some of the other church members,” said David.
“Either the Watson or the Barre murders could be a ruse to hide the real motive,” said Diane.
“Or it could be a serial killer, and Roy Jr. just had a run-in with road rage,” said Izzy.
David had taken a notepad from his pocket and was scribbling on it. Diane knew he was making a list of people to talk to. So many people-an entire church full, neighbors, the people at the Waffle House that Travis said Roy Barre frequented. It would be difficult with her restricted from going into the county. On the other hand, the sheriff couldn’t make that stick. He could cause her trouble, but he couldn’t legally keep her out.
“He can’t keep me or Izzy out at all,” said David. “And he doesn’t know us.”
Diane narrowed her eyes and looked over at him. “So, you can read minds now?” she said.
“Don’t ever play poker. You have the worst face for hiding what you’re thinking. It was the small crease between your eyes and the set of your mouth that told me you were going to thumb your nose at the sheriff,” said David.
“He’s right,” said Izzy. “It was pretty plain what you were thinking, and though normally I’m on the side of running people out of town, I don’t really trust those people up there. They’re a little squirrelly, if you ask me. He might throw you in jail and apologize later.”
“I agree,” said David. “He has no idea you will come back and hand him his ass if he does anything. He would go ahead and hold you.”
“I was thinking that Frank and I could be invited to be guests at the First Baptist Church where the Barres and the Watsons attended. Frank goes to Rosewood First Baptist. He could probably get Reverend Springhaven to
