‘‘Ah,’’ said Monroe. He smiled. He seemed to un derstand now.
‘‘There’s something I need to tell you,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’s about the evidence David analyzed from Judge McNevin’s crime scene. He was very concerned about it and was hesitant to go to Bryce, for reasons which will become obvious.’’
Diane laid out the evidence to them that David had presented to her. They were astounded by what she had to say. Both of them were silent for a long while.
‘‘This is bad,’’ said Edward. ‘‘This is the worst thing that could happen to Rosewood. The credibility of law enforcement and criminal justice and public confi dence in our government are at stake. This will not do. How sure are you?’’
‘‘The evidence is very compelling, and it convinced me. If you are asking me if it is conclusive—not com pletely. But it’s so compelling that it renders the origi nal theory of the crime improbable,’’ she said. ‘‘If the evidence was falsified, as it appears it was, it may mean that the wrong man is being held for the judge’s murder.’’
‘‘We have to untangle this,’’ said Edward. ‘‘We can’t have anything like this in Rosewood.’’ He turned to the chief. ‘‘What does Bryce have to say for himself about irregularities in procedures at the mayor’s crime scene?’’ he said.
‘‘I asked him about dusting only for Garnett’s prints,’’ said the chief, ‘‘and about several troubling questions that other detectives have brought to my attention. And you know we are being sued for ten million dollars because of that forensic anthropolo gist fiasco.’’
Diane wanted to tell him not to get off the subject, but she kept her mouth shut.
‘‘I know,’’ said Edward. ‘‘We have our lawyers working on that. What did Bryce say?’’
‘‘He denied that he only looked for Garnett’s prints,’’ said the chief. ‘‘He denied just about every thing we asked him. He kept saying he handled all the crime scenes to the best of his ability. He blamed this Jeffcote-Smith woman for the loss of Sheriff Canfield’s bones. I tell you, Canfield is having a fit. To tell you the truth, Lloyd Bryce can plead incompe tence and there isn’t much we can do, except fire him. That’s all we have on him— incompetence.’’
‘‘Which brings me to another topic,’’ said the mayor, turning to Diane. ‘‘We have relieved Bryce of his position. We want you to take back the crime lab.’’
Diane was silent for a full minute. ‘‘The museum,’’ she began, and the mayor raised his hand to ward off what she was going to say.
‘‘Mother and Colin Prehoda drew up new contracts. Nothing like this will happen again. If it should, the crime lab will be moved from museum property at your discretion. No appeal, no higher authority than you,’’ he said.
‘‘Very well,’’ said Diane and wondered why she was agreeing. But deep down she knew. It was the same reason Buford Monroe agreed to take his old job back as chief of police. It was a vindication. No matter the reasons for what had happened, getting fired stung. And vindication soothed the sting.
Another reason she said yes was that in her heart Diane enjoyed the crime lab. She liked to catch bad guys. It was true she had been happy with all her free time, but she was happy with the lab too. Perhaps there was a compromise—making David assistant di rector, for instance.
‘‘What about Rikki?’’ said Diane. ‘‘I believe she’s in the thick of things with the mayor and his buddies.’’
‘‘You can fire her,’’ said Edward. ‘‘Or you can keep her for a while and try to get information out of her. You know how to do these things.’’
‘‘When do you want me to start?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘Just as soon as you are able. I have the papers here,’’ he said.
Edward motioned to a clerk and he brought over several papers for her to sign.
Diane read them. So, Vanessa Van Ross and Colin Prehoda drew them up. Everyone was back on board. Diane smiled and signed the contract.
Chapter 26
Diane walked to her SUV in the city hall parking lot. She stopped several feet away and looked at it for a moment. A ray of sunlight peeked through the blanket of winter clouds and reflected off the bright red finish. It looked pretty. She liked her vehicle.
As she was about to get in, she saw Janice Warrick and Izzy coming toward her.
‘‘You need to put a steak or something on that face,’’ said Izzy, squinting as if it hurt to look at her. ‘‘It still looks pretty bad.’’
‘‘I know. I tried makeup, but I end up looking like a corpse,’’ said Diane. She stood and waited. From their expressions, she could tell they wanted to talk, probably about Garnett. Izzy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Janice studied the ground, mov ing a pebble with the toe of her shoe. They both be lieved Garnett killed Peeks, and they felt guilty about believing it, thought Diane. They wanted her to tell them they were wrong.
‘‘It doesn’t look good for Garnett,’’ said Izzy.
‘‘What about Shane Eastling?’’ said Diane. ‘‘He’s been acting kind of... kind of like he’s on the other side. Could he have substituted the bullet?’’
Janice shook her head. ‘‘I was at the autopsy. So was Izzy. We wanted to get the bullet to ballistics as soon as possible.’’
‘‘We saw Eastling dig it out of Peeks’ brain,’’ said Izzy, wrinkling his face.
Diane wondered whether that was the first autopsy he had ever attended. She couldn’t imagine it. He’d been a policeman for a long time.
‘‘Chief Monroe is getting less inclined to look for another killer,’’ said Janice. ‘‘He wants everything wrapped up real quick. I’m afraid they are going to cut Garnett loose,’’ she said.
