He often did that. Perhaps, like her, he’d discovered peace in looking at beautiful and interesting things.
“So, Diane, do you need to hole up in your vault so no one can get at you?” said David.
“I am beginning to feel under siege.” She stood. “I’ll be in the osteology lab with the meth lab bones. Jin, we need all the DNA samples collected and sent to the GBI lab as soon as possible.”
“Sure.” He jumped out of his chair, ready to follow her to her lab.
“David, just don’t let anyone kill anybody until all this about the explosion is over,” said Diane.
“I’ll take out an ad.”
“Neva, you said you processed my car? Put a copy of the report on my desk, please.”
“Your lab office desk?”
Diane nodded. She doubted that there would be anything of use other than Blake’s blood, but there might be some bit of trace evidence that would help. She and Jin went back to her lab. He gathered up the bones that were ready to sample and took them back to his glassed-in lab to process.
Diane opened several boxes of bones that were collected in adjacent grid units and laid them out on the table to see if she could make any matches. Most were skull fragments, probably belonging to the bodies that had already been processed by the MEs. She moved her sandbox to the table and began piecing bones together, wondering if any of the bones she touched belonged to Izzy Wallace’s son.
By the end of the day, she had parts of three skulls glued together and had matched several long bones that articulated together. In two of the partial skulls she had enough of the maxilla to compare with dental x-rays. She boxed them up and took them down one floor and over to the east wing to use the x-ray machine in the conservation lab. The x-rays didn’t take long.
Back in her lab she compared the film she took with the dental x-rays of possible victims. The first one she looked at was Daniel Wallace. It was a match. She felt heartsick. Even though she was fairly sure, based on the broken wrist bones, that Daniel Wallace was among the victims, she realized she had been holding a glimmer of hope that he had just run off and didn’t tell his parents. It’s a horrible thing when the best hope for your child is that he ran away. Diane wrote her reports and faxed them to the police unit in charge of coordinating the identifications.
Diane went into her office and sat down behind her desk. On it lay the report Neva had made after processing her car. She picked it up and started to thumb through it, then set it back down. She was tired of forensics for the day. She turned out the light and went home.
She sat in her car and looked at the front of her apartment building for several minutes. She scanned the street for cars she didn’t recognize. None. She walked down the sidewalk and up the steps. They were clean of snow and ice, but all the ground around was covered in about a foot of the white stuff. It was still sparkling white and pretty. She was almost to the door when someone stepped out and put a hand on her arm. She jumped back, ready to fight.
“Dr. Fallon, I’m sorry.”
It was Shawn Keith, her neighbor in the basement apartment. He was wrapped up in a brown sweater and muffler and was shivering.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I saw you drive up and I was waiting for you to come in. I wanted to apologize. I… you see… I had my mother with me.”
Diane stared at him a moment. What is he talking about? Then she realized-the carjacking, Blake Stanton.
“You mean that kid trying to take your car?”
He nodded. “I saw him walking to your car when I took off.”
“It’s all right, Professor Keith. You did the right thing. You called the police. They came and everything was fine.”
“I’ve been worried about it ever since it happened. I should have…”
“Done just what you did,” said Diane. “Really, you did the right thing.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” he said.
“It’s true. It looks like you need to get inside. You’re turning blue.”
“It is freezing out here. Thanks, Dr. Fallon.” He nodded his head up and down. “Thanks.”
Diane climbed the stairs to her apartment and unlocked the door, glad to be home. Just as she walked in, her telephone rang.
“Don’t let it be a murder,” she said to herself as she grabbed the phone and dropped to the couch.
“Diane, it’s Frank.”
Diane grinned to herself. She’d take Frank over a murder any day.
“Hello, Frank. It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“I’m OK. I heard about Izzy Wallace’s son. I know Daniel. Is it true?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it is. I matched his dental records this evening. That, with the x-ray of his wrist, cinches it. But the family hasn’t been officially notified.”
Frank was silent a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been so grateful for finding Star… ”
“I know. I’ve had those same emotions. How is Star? How did her test go?”
“She said she thought she did well. She thinks she’s going to make above a three-point this semester.”
“Wow, good for her. When can I see you?” Diane hadn’t meant to say that. She was just feeling very lonely.
“How about tomorrow night?”
“I’d like that.”
“You sound beat.”
“It’s just all the bodies from the explosion and everything that goes along with it. I’m having problems at the museum. Someone is stealing some of our rare items.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Any leads?”
“No. We’re just now discovering what’s missing. Many of the items weren’t from the exhibits, but from the vaults.”
“So it’s someone who knows the museum.”
“It looks like it.”
“That narrows it down considerably.”
“I don’t want it to be someone from the museum.”
“I know.”
“Frank…” The call waiting signal beeped. “Just a moment. Let me get this call.”
She switched to the other call. “Diane, it’s Garnett. We’re at a crime scene in the Briarwood Apartments. Better get your crew over here.”
Chapter 21
Briarwood Apartments were upscale dwellings catering more to the professional crowd than to students of Bartram University. Diane met David, Neva, and Jin in the parking lot in front of section C, four duplexes clustered together.
“I looked at these when I moved here,” said David. “Nice apartments. I liked them. Very quiet, good neighborhood. A little expensive for my budget.”
They got their crime scene kits out of their vehicles and followed the sidewalk to apartment 131. Garnett met them at the door, frowning when they saw him. Diane knew what he was thinking-Councilman Adler was going to make hay out of this. Murders in good neighborhoods scare people.
Diane sent Jin and Neva to search outside the apartment-under the windows, any nooks and crannies where someone could lie in wait or leave evidence. She and David slipped covers over their shoes and hair and walked into the room. The body was in the living room, lying face up, blood pooled under her head. She was a young woman. Long blond hair partially covered her battered face. Her blue eyes were open.
Allan Rankin was there. He was taking her liver temperature. He pulled the thermometer out and scribbled in his notepad before looking up.