hard, since there were so many people. Diane directed them to the table and offered coffee. They declined. Perhaps later, she thought. Right now they probably felt that Rosewood was telling them they did a piss-poor job of investigating one of their own crimes. Diane understood their anger.
Chief Stark turned to Hanks. “You are Ms. Fallon’s supervisor?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I don’t think she has one.” He laughed.
If he was hoping to relieve the tension, he hadn’t. Rosewood’s inside jokes didn’t play to a Gainesville audience. However, Kingsley smiled, as did Lynn.
“Your counterpart, Chief Garnett, is my supervisor when I work for the City of Rosewood,” said Diane. “In the Stacy Dance death, I am not working for Rosewood. I am a consultant to the private firm of Darley, Dunn, and Upshaw, represented here by Ross Kingsley.”
“What are they doing here, then?” Stark asked of Detective Hanks and Sheriff Braden.
“They are working on cases that have a certain overlap of evidence. I thought it would benefit everyone for them to be here,” said Diane.
“You shared our evidence with them?” Fisher said. It was more of an accusation than a question.
“It’s my understanding that the Stacy Dance case is closed. This is evidence we collected at the behest of her father. As yet, it isn’t your evidence,” said Diane.
“What are the patrolmen doing here?” said Chief Stark. “Why are we in Rosewood’s lab?”
“This is the museum’s DNA lab,” said Diane. “As for the patrolmen, they are bodyguards assigned to me by Chief Garnett.”
“That’s an insult,” said Fisher, in a voice louder than he meant. The acoustics of the room were quite good. His white hair highlighted his reddened ears and face. “I know there’ve been some accusations thrown around. I believe Dr. Doppelmeyer here, that he’s behaved with the utmost propriety. However, if you need calming down, you have my guarantee you are safe from him.”
“Detective Fisher,” said Diane. She kept her voice calm and even and maintained eye contact with him. “Here in the museum, the DNA lab, and crime lab, we place a particular importance on the difference between what we believe and what we know. I know that Dr. Doppelmeyer accosted Dr. Webber in the parking garage. I know, because I was there. I understand that you believe he did not. I hope you understand that, logically, I can’t accept your guarantee.”
“Jesus save us,” he mumbled, turning his face away.
“I understand that sometimes in a darkened garage, perceptions might not be as accurate as we like,” said Chief Stark. “I agree with Detective Fisher. Bodyguards are an overreaction to the situation, one that insults us and our integrity.”
“They were assigned to me because last night a man was sent to my home to kill me. He shot his way into the house. I fled to the attic where he followed and shot his way through that door also. He was about a second away from shooting me, point-blank, with a shotgun blast. Fortunately, I shot him first. We don’t know who sent him. The guards will be with me until we find out and the situation is resolved.”
Kingsley looked at her openmouthed. “Are you all right? How’s Frank?”
“He wasn’t home. I was alone,” Diane said, still looking at Stark.
“I heard something about a home invasion in Rosewood,” said Stark. “That was you?”
“Yes,” said Diane. “You will forgive me if, today, I am a little cranky.”
“You think it was me?” said Doppelmeyer. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“I don’t think you did. I really don’t. I think it had something to do with another case I’m working on. But that’s what I believe. I don’t know.” She turned back to Chief Stark. “I understand that some people are panicked when confronted, even in a mild way, in the dark confines of a parking garage. That’s not true of me or Dr. Webber,” said Diane. “We viewed the situation accurately.”
“So did the security cameras,” said Lynn Webber. “Hospital security can make them available if you want to see them.”
Doppelmeyer looked at Lynn and snarled. “You vindictive freaking bitch.”
Both Fisher and Stark jerked their attention to him. She could see they were surprised by his vehemence-and his inability to keep his temper in check.
Sheriff Braden stood up and faced him. “I don’t know where you were raised, but here we don’t talk to a lady that way.”
Diane was suspecting that there was something more to Doppelmeyer and Lynn’s enmity than what Lynn had described. She was willing to bet that Lynn had rebuffed his attentions and that was a large part of what led to him getting her fired.
“You know,” said Ross Kingsley, “normally in these kinds of meetings, we try to break the ice with small talk and jokes. And I’m ashamed to say that I find this more entertaining, but we have some evidence we would like to show you.”
“That’s why we’re here,” said Stark.
Jin had been standing by a credenza with the box of evidence on top of it. He came over with the box and set it between Diane and Ross.
“This is Deven Jin,” said Diane. “He’s the director of the DNA lab. He was formerly on my crime scene team. He helped gather the evidence and he processed it.”
“Hi.” Jin grinned, as if they were all good friends.
“Dr. Webber has her autopsy report that she will go over with you,” said Diane.
“Let’s get it over with, then,” said Detective Fisher.
Chapter 47
Diane put a diagram of Stacy Dance’s room on the table. She had marked where all the evidence was found. She turned the map to face toward Fisher, Stark, and Doppelmeyer. She also placed their own photograph of Stacy next to the map.
Kingsley explained his firm’s involvement first. Diane noticed he tried to keep all words out of his narration that might in any way suggest that their guests had bungled the case. He used a lot of passive voice and weasel words. He was far more tactful than Diane would have been.
“Her father, Harmon Dance, left her room intact,” Kingsley said. “That’s why I was able to have Diane examine it.” He nodded to Diane and they gave her their strained attention.
“When someone is strangled, they often evacuate their bladder and bowels,” began Diane.
“Oh, here we go, Pathology 101,” said Doppelmeyer.
“Oran, let’s listen,” said Chief Stark. Her voice was quiet, but it held her authority.
Doppelmeyer sat back in his chair, his ears turning red. “We know this,” he said.
“I was just introducing the evidence,” said Diane. “I meant no disrespect.” She pointed to a marked place on the diagram that was in the living room area of Stacy Dance’s apartment.
“This is where she was strangled. We found her urine and feces here and it covered a wide area. It had been cleaned up, but there was enough left for Jin to positively identify it as belonging to Stacy Dance,” said Diane.
“What about the bed?” said Fisher. “Did you check it?”
“Yes. It was negligible. The amount was what you might get from transfer,” she said.
Diane put a photograph of the rope in front of them.
“This was around her neck. Notice that it is tied with a granny knot. If you are involved in cutting off the blood supply to your brain for fun, it’s important for the knot to be easily released when you want it to be, or you lose consciousness. You use a knot that lets the rope slip, or you use a knot that can be released by a pull on the end of the rope. You don’t use a granny knot. Granny knots are incorrectly tied square knots that are notoriously hard to untie, and they don’t slip. Look at the picture. There is no way she could have gotten out of this. She would have lost consciousness in as little as four seconds after the knot was pulled tight, and death would have followed within minutes.”
“It could have been suicide,” Fisher shot back.
“Have you ever in your experience seen a suicide like this?” said Kingsley. “Has anyone committing suicide
