Dead Guilty

came on as soon as she reached for the phone. She shut it off as she picked up the receiver.

‘‘Yes?’’

‘‘Diane, this is Lynn Webber. I hope I didn’t wake you.’’

Lynn’s voice sounded strained, and Diane was sud denly wide awake, wondering if something else had happened.

‘‘No, you didn’t. Have they found another body?’’

‘‘I had a very disturbing conversation with Sheriff Braden yesterday.’’

Diane waited.

‘‘He told me you contradicted my time of death in the Cobber’s Wood murders. That was very in appropriate.’’

‘‘What? What are you talking about?’’

‘‘Those bodies were not far enough advanced to have been out in the woods more than a week.’’

‘‘Why are you calling?’’ said Diane.

‘‘My reputation is important to me. I am very con scientious in my work. To have someone who’s not even an expert go to the sheriff and contradict me is unacceptable.’’

Diane was so surprised at the outburst, she didn’t quite know what to say.

‘‘I didn’t go to the sheriff. The chief of detectives brought him by the crime lab to discuss the two cases. I simply brought him up to date on what we had dis covered so far.’’

‘‘Now Sheriff Braden doesn’t know what to think.’’

Then I made progress with him, thought Diane, but figured it would not be a good idea to voice that thought.

‘‘I’m sure he’ll read both reports and come to his own conclusion.’’ Diane wondered if she should be biting her tongue so hard.

‘‘You’re simply wrong about the time of death. This isn’t even your field of expertise.’’

Time to quit biting.

‘‘I’m not wrong, and yes, it is in my purview of knowledge and authority. If you like, I’ll send you some research on the retarding of decay in hanging victims.’’

‘‘Sarcasm and insults are unnecessary. I’m just tell ing you, when it comes to matters of time of death on bodies that lie on my autopsy table, my conclusion takes precedence and you are to fall in line.’’

Dr. Webber hung up before Diane could respond.

‘‘Great,’’ said Diane to the dead phone. ‘‘She’s in a snit and will probably call Garnett, upset him, he’ll call me and worry me to death about how we can’t make any mistakes and definitely cannot offend any one of importance.’’

While Diane had the phone in her hand, she checked caller ID for the number Frank had called from, dialed his hotel and asked for his room. When she heard his sleepy voice, she remembered the threehour time difference. Shit.

‘‘I’m sorry. I forgot about the three time zones.’’

‘‘Diane. You sound good—anytime.’’

‘‘I got your message. Did you by any chance send me flowers?’’

‘‘Flowers? Was I supposed to? Did I miss an anni versary, birthday—no, not birthday. Okay, what was it?’’

Diane felt the laughter rising up through her body until it reached her face and made her smile. How that must sound—calling him at three o’clock in the morning all the way across the country, asking if he sent flowers. She scooted back into the pillows of her bed and crossed her legs.

‘‘No. You didn’t miss anything. Someone left flow ers in my car yesterday. I found them in the backseat. I assumed they were from you.’’

‘‘Was there a card with them?’’

‘‘All it said was ‘To Justice.’ ’’

‘‘To Justice? I’m not much of a romantic, but I could do better than that.’’ Diane laughed again. The whole thing was silly, and silly felt good.

‘‘Must be from a secret admirer. Do you have one?’’ he said.

Secret admirer. ‘‘No . . .’’ She thought of Mike. Of course, Mike Seger must have left them.

‘‘You do, don’t you? I’ll bet it’s that guy—the one with the hair. What’s his name?’’

‘‘The one with the hair?’’

‘‘You know. That modern, just-got-out-of-bed, cool kind of style. I think he’s a geologist.’’

‘‘Mike? Why do you think it’s him?’’

‘‘That challenging-the-alpha-male look he gives me. Admittedly, I haven’t gotten the look for a while, now that I’ve been an adult for a number of years, but I remember that provoking stare with a touch of amuse ment behind it. You and he go caving, don’t you?’’