‘‘Well, yes.’’
‘‘Yes. It was him, though I figure he could also do better than ‘To Justice.’ Don’t you keep your car locked?’’
‘‘It was locked. Someone must have borrowed my key from my office, or opened the door with one of those things.... What do you call them?’’ ‘‘A slim jim?’’
‘‘Yeah, one of those. Oh, maybe I forgot to lock it. I’ve had a lot on my mind.’’
‘‘That’s interesting.’’
‘‘How are things in San Francisco?’’
‘‘Nice. Good weather. Looks like they’ll convict our guy, unless the jury’s just nuts. I’m looking forward to getting home. I hear you’ve been busy.’’
‘‘We’ve had a few murders.’’
‘‘Scuttlebutt says you have a serial killer.’’
‘‘Too early to tell, but it doesn’t feel like it. But I didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night to talk about murder.’’
‘‘Really. Phone sex?’’
‘‘Funny. So, you’re coming home tomorrow?’’
‘‘I hope. I like it by the ocean here, but it’ll be good to get back home.’’
Diane didn’t talk long. Guilt for waking him up gnawed at her throughout the conversation, but he’d made her laugh and she liked to start the day laughing.
Andie was already in the office when she arrived. She wore a tailored denim suit and had her abundant curls pulled up on top of her head, and they shook and jiggled as she zipped about in quick little movements.
‘‘Andie, do you know anything about a delivery of flowers to me yesterday?’’
‘‘Nope. Somebody send you flowers?’’
‘‘Yes. The card wasn’t signed. I thought maybe you were here when they came.’’
‘‘I was here, but I didn’t see them.’’
‘‘Doesn’t matter. Someone will ask about them sooner or later.’’
‘‘Wasn’t Frank, was it?’’
‘‘No, I talked to him this morning.’’
‘‘Wasn’t Mike, was it?’’ she said, with a wink and a teasing grin.
‘‘That’s what Frank said. Why does everyone think it was Mike?’’
‘‘Oh, nothing. You know, just the way he’s ga-ga around you.’’
‘‘That’s ridiculous. There is nothing there. He’s just a kid.’’
‘‘All right. I believe you,’’ said Andie. ‘‘He’s too young for you anyway.’’
‘‘Now, wait a minute.’’
‘‘Just teasing,’’ said Andie, laughing.
She handed Diane a cup of coffee with chocolate, the way she liked it. Diane took a sip and sat down behind her desk.
‘‘I saw you approved the velociraptor casts. That’s exciting. I like those guys,’’ said Andie.
‘‘It’s a good price. The shopkeepers tell me the velo ciraptor is the best-selling model after
‘‘A lot of stuff is happening about the mummy. You’re getting a ton of mail. I’ve sorted it and put it on your desk.’’
‘‘How is that possible? We just got it.’’
‘‘I think there must be some kind of mummy grape vine out there.’’
‘‘What are they writing about?’’ Diane said, mainly to herself.
While Andie called Jonas and Kendel, Diane began reading the E-mail. The first was a request for a piece of the mummy for DNA research. She had fifty-two messages. Several others were from researchers about the mummy. ‘‘I had no idea,’’ muttered Diane.
Her phone rang as she was scrolling through the E-mail.
‘‘Dr. Fallon, Dr. Fallon?’’ The voice was highpitched and nervous sounding. ‘‘I’ve been trying to reach you. Did you get my letter?’’
‘‘Who are you?’’
‘‘Dr. Earl Holloway, Indiana University.’’
‘‘Indiana?’’ Not Colorado or Nebraska.
‘‘Yes. Yes. It’s important that I have access to your mummy. It’s so hard to find mummies these days, de spite the fact that there are millions of Egyptian mum mies. They are so jealously guarded. People have such parochial ideas about dead bodies. It’s almost like the days when medical schools had to resort to resurrec tion
