Dead Guilty (24 page)

Diane
said
good-bye
to
Lynn
Webber
and
headed
toward her car a few feet away, punching up David’s
cell number as she walked.

‘‘What’s
up?’’ she asked.
‘‘We have another murder.’’
‘‘Anyone
we
know?’’
Diane
was
half
joking,
half

expecting
it to be Steven Mayberry.
‘‘It’s Kacie Beck.’’
Diane was stunned. ‘‘Kacie? I just spoke with her.’’
‘‘I’m on the way to work the scene. Neva’s with me.

The
two of us can do it. Don’t you have an appoint
ment at the hospital for the mummy’s CT scan?’’
‘‘Yes, but...’’
‘‘You go on with that. Give us a head start on the
crime scene. Maybe we’ll know something by the time
you get there.’’
‘‘Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I finish at the hospi
tal.
David,
she
was
wearing
a
diamond
engagement
ring when I saw her. Look for it.’’
‘‘Will do.’’
Diane got in her borrowed car and sat there for a
moment
before
starting
the
ignition.
Damn,
she
thought.
Damn. Another murder victim with a connec
tion to the Cobber’s Wood murders. What’s this about?
Surely the killer left some piece of physical evidence
that would connect at least some of the crime scenes.
But she hadn’t been able to find it.
The caller had her believing he was a serial killer.
Run-of-the-mill killers usually don’t try to engage the
crime lab director in dialogue. But Diane had a sense
that
there
was
something
more
to
it
than
just
a
crazy person.
When
she
arrived
at
Korey
was
already
there
the
radiology
department,
with
Jonas,
waiting
in
the
hallway
with
the
mummy.
Korey
leaned
against
the
wall,
and
Jonas
sat
on
a
chair
that
he
apparently
dragged from an adjacent waiting room. Next to the
wall on a gurney was the mummy, strapped to a board
by several layers of plastic wrap that enveloped him
from head to foot.
‘‘I imagine you caused a stir bringing him in,’’ said
Diane
‘‘We
did
indeed,’’
said
Jonas.
‘‘Everyone
here
is
quite excited.’’
‘‘So, this is your mummy.’’ Lynn Webber arrived,
changed from her dark dress to a white lab coat and
slacks. ‘‘I’ve never seen one up close.’’ She stood over
the gurney and scrutinized him. ‘‘Nice clothes. I like
these
plastic
wrappings
much
better
than
the
dingy
linen ones you usually see on them.’’
Diane introduced everyone to Lynn Webber. Jonas
stood and offered her a seat.
‘‘No, please stay seated.’’
But Jonas rose and joined Lynn next to the mummy,
explaining to her what they had discovered so far and
how it came to be in their possession.
Korey handed Diane a file. ‘‘Jonas and I examined
him with an endoscope. We took these pictures. We
also took some tissue samples and sent them off for
analysis.’’
Diane
opened
the
folder
and
photographs. ‘‘These are good.’’
‘‘I
thought
we
got
some
real
flipped
through
the

clear
images,’’
said
Jonas,
turning
from
the
mummy.
‘‘Notice
that
the
brain is removed. That places him in the late Middle
Kingdom or after.’’ He explained to Lynn how meth
ods of embalming changed over time. ‘‘See this inci
sion
here?’’
He
pointed
to
a
cut
in
the
mummy’s
abdomen on the left side. ‘‘It was here up through the
eighteenth dynasty. After that, the incision point was
from the hip to the pubic region.’’

‘‘We
went into the incision and had a look around,’’
said
Korey,
pulling
out
a
photo
from
the
rest
and
showing Diane. ‘‘As you can see, we didn’t see much.
I couldn’t find a way in and I didn’t want to do any
damage. But this looks like one of the kidneys.’’

‘‘Yes,’’
said
Korey,
‘‘except
the
kidneys.
I’m
not
sure why.’’
‘‘One of the interesting things,’’ said Jonas, ‘‘is the
position of the hands.’’
‘‘Position of the hands?’’ repeated Lynn. She placed
one
of
hers
on
Jonas’
arm
and
gave
him
her
full
attention.
Diane could see that he was falling under her spell
just as the sheriff and Garnett had—though she had
to
admit,
she
thought
the
bloom
was
off
the
rose
with Garnett.
‘‘From
his bones,
it appears
he may
have been
a
scribe
or
some
worker
who
had
to
sit
for
hours
hunched over his work. However, his hands are in the
royal position.’’ Jonas crossed his hands over his chest.
‘‘Rather
than
by
his
side,
or
crossed
in
a
lower
position.’’
‘‘Royal
position.
Why,
I’m
glad
to
know
that,
Jonas. I’m going to put that in my will. When I die
and they put me in the casket, it’s going to be in the
royal
position.’’
She
crossed
her
hands
over
her
chest. ‘‘I know a lot of people who won’t be sur
prised by that.’’
Diane had to force herself to attend to Korey, Jonas
and
Lynn’s
conversation. She
watched
them,
feeling
guilty—they were so excited, and all she could think
of
was
Kacie
Beck.
She
should
have
asked
Kacie
about the ring. She should have probed deeper about
Chris Edwards and why he was murdered. Kacie had
known something, and Diane had just dropped her off
at her apartment. What was she missing?
‘‘Diane.’’
Jonas’
voice
penetrated
her
thoughts.
‘‘What do you think?’’
Diane hesitated a second, recalling the conversation
that had managed to filter through her own thoughts.
‘‘I
don’t
.
.
.’’
She
saw
Kendel
coming
through
the
doorway. ‘‘Here she is. We don’t have to guess—let’s
ask her if she was able to acquire the artifacts.’’
Kendel waved
to them as
she walked down the
hallway. Her hair was twisted up in a clip. She wore
white capri pants, a sleeveless turquoise shirt and tan
leather
wedge
slides
on
her
feet.
Kendel
had
the
ability
to
look
dressed
up
in
the
most
casual
of
clothes.
‘‘You’re back,’’ said Jonas. ‘‘That was quick. How
did it go?’’ He had the beginnings of a frown, as if a
quick return might have meant failure.
‘‘I got back an hour ago.’’ Kendel grinned. ‘‘We are
now the owner of a collection of twelfth-dynasty amu
lets that is most likely from our mummy’s wrappings.’’
‘‘You
did
it.
Good
for you,
girl,’’
said
Jonas.
His
face broke into a broad smile.
‘‘Well
done,’’
said
Diane.
‘‘How much
did
it
cost
us?’’
‘‘I came in way under budget. People still want im
mortality.
The
collection
will
be
called
the
Robert
Lyon Rider Collection.’’ She made a frame in the air
with her hands. ‘‘We’ll have a wonderful gold plaque
labeling the room and the collection.’’
‘‘Good job. You said they are twelfth dynasty? The
amulets
support
that
date
for
our
mummy,
then?’’
said Diane.
‘‘Yes. I was very happy when I saw them. There’s
a couple of lovely scarabs, a beautiful collection of
carved fish, several figurines. I’m still establishing a
paper
trail
to
our
mummy,
but
it’s
looking
good.
The
Riders
had
wills
describing
the
artifacts
and
even a letter that described the unwrapping party,
with’’—Kendel
paused
dramatically
before
she
spoke
again—‘‘a
mention
of
our
Victorian
pickle
jar.’’
Jonas rubbed his hands together. ‘‘That’s just great.
More than I expected.’’
‘‘Well
done,
Kendel,’’
said
Diane.
‘‘Very
well
done.’’
‘‘I
was
thinking
on
the
way
back
that
we
should
concentrate
just
on
the
twelfth
dynasty
in
the
exhibit—something
like
Everyday
Life
in
TwelfthDynasty Egypt.’’
‘‘Good
idea,’’
said
Diane.
‘‘That
tight
focus
is
a
good way to make the most of the handful of items
we have. I’d like to see a time line that shows what
was going on in other parts of the world during that
same period. Set up a meeting with the exhibit plan
ners and we’ll start on it. It would be good if we can
make the opening dovetail with a fund-raiser.’’
‘‘Do you want me to put feelers out for other acqui
sitions?’’ asked Kendel.
‘‘Let me look at the budget. It might be better to
use the resources to do a fine exhibit with what we
have. We can always branch out later.’’
Diane introduced Kendel to Lynn, who stood be
tween
Jonas
and
Korey,
observing
Diane’s
assistant
director.
‘‘Good to meet you. Love your shoes,’’ said Lynn.
‘‘Gucci?’’
‘‘Michael Kors,’’ said Kendel, holding out her hand
to Lynn.
A technician came out to the corridor. ‘‘We’re ready
for our patient.’’
He took the gurney into the imaging room and di
rected them into the viewing room where several staff
from
the
hospital
had
assembled
to
watch.
The
mummy was a celebrity. Someone had even called the
newspaper. A reporter, a young woman who looked
like
she
might
still
be
a
journalism
student
and
an
equally young photographer hurried through the door
just behind Diane and her staff.
‘‘Thanks for asking me,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘This is a nice
thing to come back to after burying Raymond.’’
‘‘I’m happy to have you look at the scan and offer
any ideas on what you see.’’
The
viewing
room
was
actually
too
small
for
the
crowd gathered there. It was already getting hot, but
no one but Diane seemed to notice. When they were
all settled, Jonas repeated the story of the mummy to
the reporter and the crowd of technicians, nurses and
doctors.
Diane
imagined
that
he
must
have
been
a
great lecturer. He took all the bits and pieces of infor
mation they had discovered so far and wove a fascinat
ing story. As he spoke, Diane watched the technicians
lift the mummy from the gurney onto the CT platform.
The
photographer
snapped
pictures
as
the
mummy
started his journey into the circle.
‘‘Chevron one encoded,’’ said the technician at the
viewing screen. A few of the onlookers laughed, some
rolled their eyes, most looked puzzled.
‘‘You’re a
Stargate
fan,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Ya,
sure,
ya
betcha,’’
he
quoted
from
the
TV
series.
‘‘Me too,’’ said Diane.
The mummy moved back and forth through the CT
ring, and images of the skull cavity began appearing
on the monitor.
‘‘Look at that.’’
‘‘Amazing.’’
‘‘That had to hurt.’’
Everyone commented at once when the upper jaw
and its abscesses were revealed.
‘‘You’re right,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘That must have been
what killed him.’’
‘‘Why didn’t they just pull the teeth?’’ asked one of
the doctors.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ answered Jonas. ‘‘They had den
tistry methods, but they rarely did extractions.’’
A cell phone rang and three-quarters of those pres
ent turned at once, searching for the offender.
‘‘You are supposed to turn those off in the hospi
tal,’’
said
a
nurse.
‘‘They
interfere
with
the
equip
ment.’’ She had zeroed in on the culprit, the journalist.
The young woman smiled and shrugged. ‘‘It won’t
be but a minute.’’
‘‘Now!’’ said the nurse.
But
the
young
woman
wasn’t
listening.
She
had
crumpled to her knees in tears.

Diane
was the first to her side. She put an arm around
the sobbing girl and took the phone out of her hand.
She read the text message before she turned off the
power.

‘‘I’ll
take
care
of
her,’’
said
Diane,
pulling
the
woman to her feet and helping her out the door. The
photographer
started
to
put
down
his
camera
and
leave with her. Diane turned to him. ‘‘You stay and
finish.’’

He
stopped in his tracks. ‘‘Oh, okay, sure.’’
Diane took her to the nearest lounge and sat her
down in a chair. She found a paper-cup dispenser and
got her a drink of water.
‘‘What’s your name?’’ Diane asked, after the woman
took a drink.
‘‘Madison. Madison Foster.’’
Madison had blond hair arranged back in a single
braid. She pulled at her short khaki skirt as she talked.
Her white tee-shirt had a drop of blood on it.
‘‘Your nose is bleeding.’’ Diane dug in her purse for
a tissue. ‘‘Put your head back and pinch your nose.’’
‘‘I’ve always gotten nosebleeds. It happens when I
cry.’’
She
put
the
tissue
to
her
nose
and
put
her
head back.
‘‘Do I need to get a nurse?’’
‘‘No. This happens a lot. It’ll go away soon.’’
Diane
gave
her
several
moments
before
she
said
anything. When the bleeding seemed to have stopped,
she spoke to her in a low, calm voice.
‘‘Madison, are you a student?’’
‘‘Yes. A journalism student at Bartram.’’
‘‘You knew Kacie Beck?’’ asked Diane.
Madison
looked at
her for
a long
moment. ‘‘You
read the message?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘Kacie was my best friend.’’ She took a deep breath
and seemed to collect herself. ‘‘I need to call Amy.
Maybe she’s playing some kind of trick. She has an
odd sense of humor sometimes.’’
‘‘No, Madison, it’s not a trick.’’
Madison’s brow puckered into deep furrows as she
looked
at
Diane.
Wondering,
no
doubt,
how
Diane
could possibly know.
‘‘I’m head of the crime lab for Rosewood.’’
‘‘Oh, I think I knew that.’’
‘‘My team is over at her apartment now.’’
‘‘Oh, God, it’s true.’’ She started sobbing again.
Diane handed her another tissue, went to the bath
room and came back with wet paper towels. Madison
wiped her face with the towels and took a deep breath.
‘‘I don’t believe this. Who would want to kill her?
Right after her fiance´, Chris. And them arresting her.
Oh, God. Why did this happen?’’
‘‘Madison. I would like to ask you some questions.
It will help us find out who did this.’’
Madison nodded.
‘‘How well did you know Kacie?’’
‘‘We grew up together in Columbus, Georgia. We
came to school here together.’’
‘‘Did you know Chris Edwards?’’
‘‘We met him up here.’’
‘‘Kacie had on a ring.’’
‘‘I saw it right after he gave it to her. She was really
proud and couldn’t wait to show it to her family. They
didn’t like Chris very much.’’
‘‘Why?’’
Madison shrugged. She dabbed her nose with a wet
towel. ‘‘It’s not bleeding again, is it?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Her father’s a doctor. They wanted her to marry
a
doctor.
Her
parents
are
real
snobs.
They’re
nice,
but snobs.’’
‘‘Do you know if it was a real diamond?’’
Madison looked at her wide-eyed. ‘‘Why wouldn’t
it be?’’
‘‘Diamonds are expensive. Do you know how Chris
was able to buy it?’’
‘‘I just assumed he put it on his card.’’
Madison
wasn’t
being
much
help.
Diane
thought
perhaps
she
wasn’t
asking
the
right
questions.
She
should have just passed her along to Garnett, but she
really didn’t think he would fare much better.
‘‘Did Chris have a second job?’’
‘‘Besides his forestry job? I don’t think so. He was
working
hard
on
his
thesis
and
his
job—and
seeing
Kacie. He didn’t have time for much else.’’
‘‘What did you
think of Chris? Did you
think he
was good enough for Kacie?’’
‘‘Oh
yeah.
He
was
a
great
guy.
Sweet.
Good
sense
of
humor. He wasn’t self-centered like most
guys.’’
‘‘Do you know his friend, Steven Mayberry?’’
‘‘Steve. Yeah, sure. A little. We’ve gone out a cou
ple of times.’’
‘‘What is he like?’’
‘‘Not like Chris. He talks about himself a lot. Has
big plans for getting a job in his uncle’s paper com
pany. He always talks like he has a lot of money, but
I don’t think he does. At least he never spent any on
me. We ate out mostly at fast food places.’’
‘‘Who are Chris and Kacie’s other friends?’’
Madison shrugged. ‘‘I don’t know, really. The guys
in their department, I suppose.’’
‘‘Do
you
know
if
they
had
any
friends
who
are
missing?’’
‘‘Missing?
What
do
you
mean?
Like
Steven,
you
mean?’’
Diane had made smaller copies of Neva’s drawings
to carry in her purse. She pulled them out and showed
them to Madison.
‘‘Do you know any of these people?’’
Madison looked carefully at each one. ‘‘They don’t
look familiar. Who are they?’’
‘‘Have you heard from Steven lately?’’
‘‘Not
for
about
a
week—since
he’s
been
missing.
What’s all this about?’’
She looked at Diane with large, liquid brown eyes—
she
wanted
answers,
Diane
could
see.
She
needed
some meaning to all this. Diane needed meaning too.
‘‘When was the last time you spoke with Steven?’’
‘‘Spoke with him? Not for a long time. He left a
message
on
my
voice
mail
about
a
week
ago.
He
wanted to go out, said something about having a ship
come in. I have no idea what he meant. I didn’t call
back. I really don’t like him very much.’’
Ship come in.
That was the first sign that anything
was going on. She was surprised at the sense of relief
she felt. Finally, something.
‘‘Did Chris or Kacie mention anything about what
he might have meant?’’
‘‘I didn’t tell them. It was just a voice message. It
didn’t really mean anything.’’
‘‘Did you get a sense that Chris was about to come
into some money?’’
‘‘Well, he got the ring—but then, I just thought he
charged it.’’
‘‘He’d need one big credit limit.’’
‘‘When you’re a student, that’s pretty easy. They
send you cards in the mail by the dozens with huge
limits. My dad’s an accountant, and he’s lectured me
from the time I was three about owing money, so I
don’t use them big time, but some people do.’’
‘‘Did
Chris
seem
especially
happy
about
something?’’
Her face brightened. ‘‘Yes, now that you mention it.
Kacie did mention that he’d been really happy lately—
almost manic. She didn’t know why—she figured he’d
gotten
a
really
good
job
and
was
going
to
surprise
her.’’
‘‘Did
any
of
them
seem
to
be
frightened
of
anything?’’
‘‘No. Just after—you know—Chris died, Kacie was
a basket case, as you can imagine. She had nightmares
and was taking Valium.’’
‘‘Were her nightmares about anything specific?’’
Madison looked at Diane as if she were an idiot.
‘‘She found Chris.’’
‘‘I know, but I thought her dreams might have some
clue that her subconscious was trying to bring to the
surface.’’
‘‘She didn’t say. It was always about finding Chris
like—like that.’’