“About tonight.”
“My son-you met Kevin-he wants to be a forensic anthropologist.”
“And you want me to recommend a good child psychologist?”
“Funny, Diane. No. I would like to bring him. I know it’s one of these invitation-only affairs, but. .”
“Fine. I’d like to see him again.”
“There’s more.”
“You have more children?”
“You’re real cute this morning, aren’t you? No. His mother and her husband would like to come too.”
“Family affair?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll leave tickets at the door.”
“I appreciate this. It’s not every woman who would let her date bring his ex-wife.”
“We have an entomologist on staff you can show the bug parts to.”
“What? Oh.” Frank studied the design on the floor, making a face, as if he had just felt a wave of pain. “I-uh- threw them away.”
“Threw them away? You threw evidence away?”
“I didn’t think it was evidence. The Rosewood police weren’t interested. And they were, I thought, bug parts from a deer bone.”
“What does your friend do for a living?”
“He’s a roofing contractor.”
“A roofing contractor. Frank, did you know that before I took the directorship of the museum here, I was an internationally known forensic anthropologist? Did you know that I can give expert testimony in courts of law all over the world about anything concerning the identification and disposition of bones? And you believed a roofer’s identification over mine?” Diane threw up her hands.
“I’ve known him forever. We play poker together.”
“What? Is this some kind of guy thing?”
“No. He said it was from the skeleton of a deer, and I believed him.”
“He told you he grabbed some deer, skinned him out, and took this bone?” Diane put her forefinger on his chest.
“No. He said he found it with a pile of deer bones in the woods. I’m sure there were probably antlers present,” he added, as if that were a reasonable defense, “and hooves.”
Diane put her fingertips to her eyelids. “You do know that once an animal is completely skeletonized, it becomes disarticulated-it comes apart. Does the word
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve never worked with a forensic anthropologist. I work with white-collar crimes-paper, computers, ideas and people who at least act civilized while they’re stealing from you. All bones look alike to me. Are you going to continue to hit me over the head with this? I’m sorry. He and his wife are best friends of mine. I don’t believe he’d lie to me-I mean, I know they lied originally, but they were desperate. Were the bug parts that important?”
“Maybe not. You may be able to extract more from deeper inside the bone.”
“How about that spider’s web?”
“I’m not sure you could do anything with that anyway.”
“So the only damage is to your pride?” He grinned.
“No, to my sensibilities.”
Frank laughed. He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I have to be in Columbus this afternoon to appear in court, but I’ll be back in time to pick you up. I promise.”
“OK.”
“I miss arguing with you.” He kissed her cheek.
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I miss a lot of things we used to do.”
“It took you a long time to remember.”
“Now, that’s not fair. As far as I knew, you were still somewhere up a tree with Cheeta,” he said.
“That’s Africa, not South America.”
“You were in Africa?”
She ignored him. “When you find the pile of bones your friend says he got this one from-even if you find a pair of antlers with matching hooves with them-tell whoever’s in charge to treat it like a crime scene. Don’t let anyone just take the bones and put them in a sack. Their pattern of dispersal will tell you a lot about what kind of agent scattered-or piled-them.”
“Did you know you get really pretty when you talk about bones? I mean, you always look great, but there is something about the way your eyes shine when you talk about bones.”
“I’ll see you tonight. Remember, it’s black-tie.” She realized she was still holding his hand, and it felt comfortable. It had been a while since she felt so comfortable.
Diane spotted Donald, his thick, square body rigid, glaring into the mammoth exhibit.
“I need to speak with you,” she said as he shifted his glare to her.
“You took up the plants.” He had a childlike quality to his voice that made her pause a second before she spoke.
“Donald, they were wrong. There is four hundred million years’ difference between your plants and the ones that belong in here. Yours didn’t even represent the whole tree, only the leaves.”
“It won’t matter for the event tonight.”
“Yes, it will. Donald, this is not a battle to go to the mat for. Leave it alone. We have a lot to do before this evening.” Diane turned to go to her office.
“Wait. There are a couple of things we need to discuss.”
“Can we do it in my office?”
Donald followed her into her office. He moved a pile of books from the only chair besides hers and dropped them in an empty box. Diane noted ruefully that it was the box the books had arrived in. She took a seat at her desk and pulled out the budget folders but didn’t open them. Instead, she gave Donald her attention.
He glanced down at the folders before he spoke. “Some building plans have come to my attention.”
Diane started to laugh at the way he made it sound as if he were in charge and speaking to a recalcitrant employee. She forced her face to remain in what she hoped was a frown.
“Came to your attention? How?”
“That’s not important.”
“It is important. This discussion will end now unless you tell me.”
He shifted in the chair as if suddenly off balance. “We can’t afford to start a new building project. This building is too big already,” he said, leaning forward with his hands gripping the arms of the chair.
Diane stood up. “Donald, I’m too busy for this now.”
“I found a copy in the waste can by the Xerox machine,” he said quickly. The way the barely articulated words slid out of his lips so fast, she knew he was lying.
Diane narrowed her eyes. “Do you have the adult education exhibit ready for this evening?”
“It’s almost finished. The computer people are setting it up. The plans-”
“Go supervise their work.”
He hesitated a moment, then stood. “This isn’t the end of this. After tonight, you will have this discussion with me and the board.”
Diane stared at her closed door for several moments after he left. Maybe she should have talked to him. Milo’s plans for the museum weren’t secret, but Donald must have thought they were her plans. He must have been poking around in her office. She opened the folder and reread the budget figures. Money would certainly come up this evening and she wanted to be prepared. She could deal with Donald later.
