Dead Hunt

‘‘Jin, can you do it or not?’’ asked Diane.

Jin looked wounded. ‘‘Sure, Boss. I’ll start tomorrow.’’

Diane shook her head and put her hand to her temples. ‘‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.’’

‘‘You look tired,’’ said David.

‘‘I am. It’s been a weary day and instead of getting my morning run in, I had to visit Clymene. The woman is a lot of trouble. Now, Neva, Jin—go. David, tell me about your interviews with Kendel and Marge—and the fire at Golden Antiquities.

Chapter 15

‘‘I’ll start with my interview of Madge,’’ said David. He stretched out his legs, then after a moment sat up straight and stretched. ‘‘Let’s go into your osteology office. It’s more comfortable and you have that little refrigerator with drinks in it. You know, you need to put in a bar.’’

In Diane’s capacity as forensic anthropologist at the crime lab she had an osteology lab in the west wing with an attached office. She punched in her key code for the bone lab, entered, and switched on the light. A newly arrived box of bones from a cold case in Ohio was sitting on a shiny metal table waiting for her analysis. If she hadn’t felt so tired she would have started laying them out while David briefed her. Instead she went to her office.

Smaller than her museum office, it had off-white walls adorned only with a watercolor of a wolf, a green slate floor, dark walnut office furniture, a leather chair, and a long burgundy leather couch that David immediately claimed. He stretched out full length with his head on the arm and his hands behind his head.

‘‘Now, this is comfortable,’’ he said.

Diane went to the small refrigerator in the corner that was topped with an artificial green plant because she managed to kill real ones. Besides, there was no sunlight in the room anyway. She got Cokes for herself and David. She tossed David his and popped hers open as she sat down in the leather chair near the sofa.

‘‘Did Madge have any useful information?’’ asked

Diane.

‘‘I had to calm her down before I could get much

out of her,’’ he said. ‘‘She said you told her that Kendel was going to sue her.’’

‘‘Not exactly right. She asked me if Kendel would

sue and I told her that if I were Kendel, I would,’’

said Diane.

‘‘Well, it scared her,’’ said David.

‘‘Madge Stewart is babied too much,’’ said Diane.

‘‘It’s time she started taking responsibility for her

behavior.’’

David knitted his brows together. ‘‘So you’re her

mother now?’’

‘‘No. I’m director of this museum and she made

some stupid statements to the newspaper that caused

problems that I now have to deal with.’’

‘‘Just getting things straight,’’ said David. He looked

comfortable lying there in his jeans and T-shirt. Diane

wished she had taken the couch instead.

‘‘Did you get a coherent answer from her?’’ asked

Diane, sipping on the ice-cold drink. She pressed the

cold can to her forehead.

‘‘More or less. She said the reporter called her from

the Rosewood Review and told her that Kendel Williams had knowingly purchased looted Egyptian antiquities for the museum and what did Madge have to

say about it. Madge told her that Kendel would be

fired,’’ said David.

Diane rolled her eyes. ‘‘Is that it? Did the reporter

have any other questions for her?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘She asked Madge information about herself. You

want my opinion, I think the reporter played up to

her ego—or lack of it. Then she asked her about your

running of the museum,’’ said David.

Diane frowned. In her meeting with the board she

had purposefully ignored the parts of the article that

raised questions about her management of the museum. She wanted to keep the board members focused