Dead Secret (12 page)

Chapter 18

“What reason? How could they legally put her in prison without a trial?” Diane asked.

“If they thought she already had one.”

“Why would they think that?” she asked as she rubbed her upper arm, hoping to knead the ache out of it.

“A couple of possible reasons. One could be that somebody stole her identity. Someone got her Social Security number, and when they were arrested, instead of giving their own name and number, they gave your mother’s.”

“But wouldn’t something come out in a trial? People would recognize her.” Diane was having a hard time wrapping her brain around this whole situation. Nothing made sense.

“The real perp could have pled out—no trial, no witnesses called—then escaped,” said Frank. “She wouldn’t have to worry about being caught, because the outstanding warrant would be for your mother.”

“But what about fingerprints?”

“When they picked up your mother they wouldn’t necessarily have a reason to check her prints. She probably confirmed her name and Social Security number. So with the right name and Social Security number, maybe the approximate age and appearance, she goes back to prison.” Frank took another bite of pizza.

“But the prison personnel would recognize that it wasn’t her—the guards would know, wouldn’t they?”

“Depends on how long since the real perp escaped and the circumstances of the escape. They may never have seen her. What prison is she in?”

Diane hated to say the word. “Tombsberg.”

“Damn. That’s a bad place. It’s so overcrowded they may not have noticed the difference in appearance. The real perp may have picked your mother because she had a passing similarity and that was enough to fool the guards.”

“This makes much more sense than what Alan came up with.”

“Alan? Would that be the ex-husband Alan?”

“That would be him,” said Diane.

“You were married before?” said Star. “Really? Why did you divorce him?”

“Not now, Star,” said Frank.

“But—”

“You said there are a couple of ways they could hold her without a trial,” said Diane.

“Someone could have hacked into the Justice Department computer files and changed the name and Social Security number of someone already in the system, or could have made up a record and slipped it into the database, so when the police did a warrant check, there was your mother’s name.”

“Who could do that—and how?” asked Diane. “Aren’t government files hackproof?”

Frank smiled and took another bite of pizza. “Nothing’s hackproof for a determined hacker. However, the easiest way is to pay off someone on the inside who has legitimate access to the computer files. As to why . . .” Frank shrugged. “Aren’t your parents well-off; doesn’t your dad work in high finance—stockbroker or something? Perhaps the motive lies there.”

“How do I get her out?”

“Your parents are in Birmingham, right?”

“Yes.”

Frank stroked his chin a moment. “There’s this criminal lawyer—Daniel Reynolds. He’s expensive, but he earns his money. Get an appointment with him right away. He’ll make them look at the fingerprints. You find out which bank she was supposed to have robbed, the date, and if it was actually robbed. I’d go with you, but I can’t get any more time off. I can take you to the airport in the morning, though.”

Diane laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Thanks, Frank. I really appreciate all this.”

“It’s what I do.” He slid his arm from under her hand and grabbed hold of it. He looked around and saw the couch made up with bedsheets and a pillow. “Guess we had all better get some sleep. I’ll take the couch and you and Star can have the bed.”

“No,” said Star. “I have dibs on the sofa. It’s not like I don’t know you two probably sleep together—occasionally. I can handle it. I’ll be in college this fall. What you think we’ll do when we go to Paris, all get separate rooms?”

“So,” said Frank, “you are planning on making the grade.” He winked at Diane.

“Of course. I can do it. I plan on being the best-dressed person in Rosewood. Now what’s this about an ex-husband?”

Before Diane left for the airport, she and Frank stopped by the hospital to see Mike. The third-floor hallway wasn’t crowded. An orderly pushed a breakfast cart with squeaky wheels down the hall. A young girl with a pained expression on her face was walking down the hall looking at the floor, her IV in tow. Monitors beeped and chirped at the nurses’ station. Diane didn’t like hospitals, and she’d been in this one a lot in the past year.

She and Frank met Neva coming out of a doorway labeled VENDING MACHINES carrying a soft drink and a can of juice. Her dark strawberry-blond hair, down from its usual casual twist, hung just below her shoulders. She had deep circles under her eyes.

“Hi, Neva. You’ve met Frank.”

Neva nodded. “Yes. At the opening of the Egyptian exhibit. Hi.”

“How are you and Mike doing?”

“I’m fine. Mike’s already itching to get out of here. Considering he’s just healed up from that gunshot wound, he’s really doing great. Some of the nurses remembered him.”

Neva gave a halfhearted laugh. “I’m having a hard time convincing them that he’s really the kind of person who avoids violence.”

Neva started to lead them to Mike’s room, but Diane pulled her aside and leaned close to her ear. His room was just a door away, and she didn’t want to chance her voice carrying into his room.

“You’re off the hook. Sylvia Mercer witnessed the episode and voluntarily told me about it last evening at the museum.”

Neva’s eyes grew wide. “Really? She saw it?”

“Yes. And heard it.”

She took a deep breath. She looked as if she had been holding it since she first spoke with Diane. “You don’t know how relieved I am.”

“I’ll have to talk to Mike about it. I just wanted you to know first.”

Neva nodded and they all walked into his room. He was sitting up in bed reading a copy of the
Journal of Geomicrobiology
.

“You look good,” said Diane. The color was back in his face, but the sight of him in a hospital bed was incongruous, despite the fact that this wasn’t the first time she’d seen him wounded and laid up. Mike was meant to be active. He had chosen a profession that by its very nature required activity. Even his hobbies were physical.

“I feel great. I’m planning to bust out of here soon.” He paused, looking behind her. “Hi, Frank.”

Frank grinned at him. “Hi. Sorry to hear about your attack.”

“Lots of nuts out there, and they seem to be able to find me real easily—Doc here, too.” He turned his head back to Diane and motioned toward her arm with a question on his face.

“Sore,” she said in response.

“I’ll bet. You don’t know how much you use that tricep muscle until it’s all stove up,” Mike said.

Diane curled her arm up and back as if lifting a weight. “It’ll be a while before either of us can go caving.”

“Damn, don’t I know it,” said Mike. “I was looking forward to following that water sound.”

Diane looked at the flowers that lined his room, walked over and smelled one of the roses. “You have lots of admirers.”

He laughed. “Looks like it, doesn’t it? Lots of them are from people at the museum. That huge vase full over there is from Dr. Mercer. That was nice. I hardly know her.”

Diane sighed heavily, and then went over to his bed so she could see his face. “When the doctor gives you the okay, you can report to work at the museum.”

It took a fraction of a second for Mike to catch on, but when he did, his face broke into a wide smile. “You accepted my proposal.” He turned to Frank. “Work proposal.”

Frank chuckled. “I gathered.”

“It’s part-time,” said Diane. She handed him an envelope. “This is your salary. It’s the best I can do. I hope it’s acceptable.”

Mike tore open the envelope and looked at the slip of paper. Diane watched his mouth spread into a broad grin. “This is great. Look, thanks. Really. I appreciate this.”

“You are now the new curator of the geology exhibit.”

His mouth dropped. “Curator? But Dr. Lymon—”

“Dr. Lymon was made head of the Geology Department at Bartram.” Mike frowned. “She severed the relationship between the Geology Department and the museum. She said it wasn’t working for them. That left me with an opening for a curator. Fortunately, you had that great proposal. Kendel really liked your ideas,” she added.

“I don’t know what to say. Thanks for trusting me with the responsibility. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“According to the collection manager, you’ve been doing all the work.”

“Wow—curator.”

Diane paused. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.” She turned to Neva and Frank. “Do you two mind letting me speak with Mike alone?”

Mike face wore a puzzled expression as he watched Frank and Neva dutifully file out of the room.

“Dr. Sylvia Mercer came to me last night and told me a disturbing story of something she witnessed.”

Mike glanced over at the vase of flowers and back at Diane. “Dr. Mercer?”

“Yes. This is likely to be very uncomfortable for you, and I’m sorry, but it happened in my museum and I have to deal with it.”

Mike looked startled, almost as if he were about to be fired just after he had been hired. “What?” he asked.

Diane related almost verbatim the story that Dr. Mercer had told her. She stopped and stared at Mike, waiting for him to respond.

Mike was quiet for a moment. “Well, that explains the big bouquet of flowers and the card saying she was sorry.”

“She was very sorry. Like I said, she was ashamed to tell me.”

Mike shook his head. “She needn’t feel bad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was between me and Dr. Lymon. That wasn’t why you decided to hire me, was it?” He looked down at the envelope as if it weren’t a prize after all.

Diane shook her head. “You should know me better than that. I made the decision before I talked with Sylvia. I can afford to hire a groundskeeper for a favor, but I have to have curators who are qualified.” She gestured toward the paper and winced when the back of her arm stung from the quick movement. “Everyone you’ve worked with has given you glowing recommendations. I know your work. The Journey to the Center of the Earth exhibit is terrific. I passed your proposal by my assistant director and she’s enthusiastic. No, Mike, you earned the position. I only wish it could be full-time.”

His frown turned to a grin. “This will work out better. I’ll have time to work on my dissertation.”

“Good. Okay, now, David will probably come to interview you.”

Mike rearranged himself in his bed, as if to get more comfortable. “David? Your crime scene guy? About the stabbing? I thought the police were handling that.”

“They are. This is a discreet investigation that I hope can stay that way. But it has to be done. You understand that upon hearing about Dr. Lymon’s actions, I had to put her on the list of suspects.”

“Dr. Lymon?”

“She has motive—at least in your case.”

Mike was quiet for several moments, looking out the window. “Perhaps in yours too,” he said, looking back at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Something she said to me after the . . .” He paused, leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes for just a moment. “After the episode. She thought you and I were . . . well, you know.”

“I see.” Diane wondered if anyone else in the museum thought that she and Mike were having an affair.

“I don’t know why she thought that, really. I told her she had it all wrong. That we just do caving. But . . . ” He shook his head. “I know she had a hard time when her husband left her, and she’s always been kind of mean, but I really can’t see her going postal on me.”

“Frankly, neither can I. That’s why I hope the investigation can stay discreet. David won’t go to the detectives unless he finds something.”

“You’re being very nice to her.” He stretched out his hand for his water on the stand beside his bed, but it was just out of his reach. Diane handed it to him and he took a sip.

“Too nice, perhaps,” she said. “Do you know if you’re the only one she has approached in that way?”

Mike shrugged and set the water down. “I haven’t heard anything. It came as a surprise to me. I don’t know what came over her. I never got a hint that she had any kind of feelings for me at all, much less sexual ones.”

Mike’s room phone rang and Diane went to get Neva and Frank as he answered it.

“It’s for you,” said Mike, when Diane came back in. “It’s David.”

Diane took the phone. “David, what’s up?”

“A nasty situation. Jin’s on his way over to pick up Neva,” he said.

Chapter 19

“You have a crime scene?” asked Diane.

“Yes, we do. Unfortunately, it’s Neva’s house. The police couldn’t get in touch with her so they called here. Jin is coming to help me process it. I want Neva to see what’s missing. I’m at her house now and I’m a little concerned. It’s tossed and ripped up pretty bad, and they spray-painted some pretty vile things on her walls—
‘stupid fucking bitch’
—stuff like that. Her neighbor saw her door open this morning when he went out for his paper and he noticed that it was still open when he was leaving for work. He went to the door to check on her and found this.”

Diane was stunned. “I’ll give her the news. Did anyone see or hear anything?”

“No witnesses so far. The police are canvassing the neighborhood right now.”

Diane hung up and turned to Neva. “Jin’s coming to pick you up.”

“Crime scene?”

Diane nodded and took a deep breath. “Neva, it’s your house. It apparently happened last night.”

Neva’s eyes grew wide and she looked from Mike to Diane. Mike reached out and took her hand.

“My house? What did they do?”

“David’s there now. He says it’s vandalized pretty bad. And . . . ” Diane hesitated. “Whoever it was spray-painted some ugly things on your walls. I just wanted to prepare you for that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. Jin and David are going to process it. David only wants you there to tell him if anything is missing.”

“But . . . can’t I?”

“That’s the way it has to be. They’ll do a good job.”

Neva put her free hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. Diane could see she was trying not to cry. Diane was thinking,
What if she had been home?

“You can stay at my apartment tonight,” said Diane. “I don’t want you to stay in your home for now.”

“You can stay in mine,” said Mike.

Frank had been listening quietly to the exchange between Diane and her staff. “Actually, I think you should stay at my house until yours is cleared up,” he said, surprising them all. He smiled. “You’ll like my daughter, and Diane can vouch for my character.”

Neva glanced back and forth between Diane and Frank, confusion written on her face.

“I don’t want to be an alarmist,” said Frank, “but I don’t like the math. Something has happened to Mike, Diane and now you. I don’t know if they are related, but if someone wants to get at you physically, he’d think to look at your boyfriend’s place, and maybe at your boss’s apartment, but not my house.”

Mike lifted his eyebrows and gave Frank a crooked smile. “It makes sense,” he said—rather reluctantly, Diane thought. She couldn’t help notice the amused glint in Frank’s eyes at Mike’s discomfort.

Neva nodded and looked at Diane. “If you think it’s best.”

At that moment Jin came in, looking his usual happy self. “Hi, guys. How you doing, Mike?”

“I’m thinking about trying to get out of here today.”

“No,” said Neva. “Mike, I’ll be all right.”

“I know, but if you’d been at home . . .”

“But I wasn’t.” She bent down and kissed him.

“We’ll see she stays safe,” said Jin. He turned to Neva. “You ready?”

She nodded and started out the door with him. She paused and looked back at Mike. “I’ll call when I know something.” Her shoulders slumped, and she appeared vulnerable and frightened.

Diane felt uneasy about having to go out of town. She wished she could trust her family to do what needed to be done. She’d like to call and tell them how to proceed, who to contact, but she feared they were completely helpless in the face of the criminal justice system.

“I have to go to Alabama, Mike. It’ll be only for a couple of days, I hope. Don’t worry about reporting to work until your doctor says you can. I mean it.”

Mike nodded absently. “You know there are bullies in her neighborhood that Neva’s had to pull off some of the younger kids a time or two.”

“I’ll remind Neva to tell David,” said Diane. “If you think of anything else, let David know. He’s in charge of the crime lab while I’m gone. Kendel is in charge of the museum, if you have any questions. She’s very happy I hired you. She’s already approached the exhibit designers with your extremophile plan.”

“I can’t wait to get out of here and start on it.” He smiled, but his enthusiasm was weakened. “Frank, take care of my girl.”

“I’ll take good care of both of them.” Frank gave Mike one of what Diane called his prankish smiles.

“That’s funny,” said Mike.

“Seriously. Neva’ll be safe.” Frank fished a card and a pen from his pocket. “I’m writing my home phone and my cell phone on my card. If you need anything, give me a call.”

Mike took the card and looked at it and then back up at Frank. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Do what the doctors tell you. I know it’s frustrating, believe me. But you’re no good to anybody if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

Diane took Mike’s hand and squeezed it. His hands were rough from the heavy calluses he had developed rock climbing, and even ill he had a strong grip.

“Listen to Frank,” she said. “I expect a lot of work from you when you recover.”

He smiled, but his eyes still looked worried. Diane left feeling sorry for him.

“He’ll be all right,” said Frank as they reached the elevator.

“I know. It’s just that . . . that I’m beginning to feel like some kind of bad-luck charm to everyone around me.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Frank put an arm around Diane’s shoulders and pulled her to him. “I know, but that’s not how it is. If Mike thought you were such bad luck, he wouldn’t still be interested in you.”

“He isn’t, really. It’s become sort of a game.”

“Oh, he’s interested.”

“You enjoyed yourself inviting Neva to stay at your house, didn’t you?”

“I am genuinely concerned about her.” Frank grinned. “Playing with Mike’s head was just a bonus.”

They walked out to the parking lot. As Frank started the engine and put his car in gear, Diane laid a hand on his arm. “Do we have time to run by Neva’s? It’s on the way.”

“Sure. What’s her address?”

Neva lived on a dead-end street in a neighborhood that was a combination of blue-collar and student housing. Two police cars were parked in front of her white frame house. Across the street a small crowd had formed. Half of them looked like students. Diane got out of the car and scanned the faces. A young woman, stout and squarely built, dressed in cutoffs and a tank top, yelled from the crowd.

“My house was robbed and I can’t get the police to even come and take my statement. One of their own gets robbed and you’d think it was the president’s house.”

Diane heard a couple of people shout their approval and someone else tell her to shut the fuck up. Frank and Diane ignored them and walked up to the porch.

“Neva,” she called.

Neva came to the door. “They’ve done the porch and front entry. David’s processed a walkway though the house. You can come in.”

Diane had been in Neva’s house several times, picking her up to go caving. Neva liked to call her decor “early attic.” Her furniture was a combination of hand-me-downs from her parents and inexpensive furniture from Wal-Mart and secondhand stores. Nonetheless, it had a style to it. Neva had an artist’s eye for decorating. It shocked Diane to see it now.

The sofa and stuffed chairs were slashed and the filling pulled out. Everything had been sprayed with a swath of black paint. All the chairs were overturned. On the wall over her sofa the words
stupid fucking bitch
were painted in red and black paint. The sentiment was repeated in the bedroom, where her mattress and pillows were also slashed.

“They did a number, didn’t they?” said Neva, surveying the ruins of her home. “Whoever it was spray-painted my clothes in the closets and drawers. I must have really pissed somebody off.” She blew her nose with a Kleenex and dried her eyes with another.

The glass shelves that used to stand against the wall were shattered. Among the shards of glass, Neva’s collection of polymer clay animals that she sculpted were lying in fragments.

David came in from the kitchen and stood beside her. “Notice anything funny about the glass shelves?”

Diane knelt and looked at the broken glass. Frank stared over her shoulder. She glanced at the overturned frame that once held the shelves and back at the pattern of broken shards.

“Whoever it was took the shelves apart, laid them on the floor, and stepped on them.”

David nodded. “That’s what it looks like. The police can’t find anyone who heard anything. From the look of the place, you’d think all her neighbors were stone-deaf. But if you look closer at everything he or she did, you’ll see that the perp was quiet, deliberately going from room to room breaking things without making much noise.”

A chill went up Diane’s spine.

The ride to the airport was unexpectedly calming. Diane hated Atlanta traffic, even as a passenger. It was either moving really fast en masse, or at a dead standstill waiting for a wreck to be cleared. It was fast and crowded today, but sitting talking to Frank in the confines of his car was a comfort.

“It will probably be easier than you think to get this mess with your mother sorted out,” said Frank. “I’ll do what I can from this end. I have some contacts in Alabama, and I’ll ask them to take a look at their files.”

“I really do appreciate this, Frank. I’m glad you know about this kind of stuff.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Me too,” he said.

Diane watched the landscape passing by for a moment—the houses, apartments, businesses, all the places where people clustered—all the places where they hurt each other.

“You know, sometimes I think about getting out of the crime business again. I get so tired seeing the work of evil people, but lately it’s like . . . ” She paused again, looking at the distant horizon. “Like it wouldn’t do any good. The evil’s spilled over into my life—following me to funerals, following my family. There are just too many criminals in the world.”

“I know what you mean,” Frank said. “Most of the people I deal with are just greedy, but they have no conscience whatsoever about screwing up someone’s life, stealing money from people who need it the most. And even when I catch the bad guys, I usually can’t restore what’s been taken. I had a case of identity theft not long ago. Caught the guy, but the victim killed himself because he thought everything he had was gone. The tragedy was, I got back his money, just not soon enough. It turned out the same guy had scammed him before.” Frank shook his head. “The perp’s attitude was that the guy was just too stupid to learn and was better off dead. I would like to have arrested the guy for murder.”

“At least you could put him in jail for a while.”

“We have a good ADA. In the past, juries have wanted to let white-collar criminals off—they can always afford good lawyers. But this ADA’s really good at making the jury walk in the victim’s shoes. They end up feeling like if they let him go, their life savings are next.” Frank put his hand on the back of Diane’s neck. “How’s the arm feel?”

“Sore as hell.”

Frank had helped her change the bandage the evening before. It was healing well, but still red and sore-looking. She hated the perp every time she moved her arm.

“You know,” she said, “all in all, despite the crime, I like my life. I love the museum, the people who work for me; I like solving puzzles. I’m really enjoying working on Caver Doe’s bones.”

“Yeah, I like the museum too—I even think Mike’s a good guy.”

Diane laughed. “You know, he’s always been appropriate with me.”

“I don’t doubt it, but there is nothing like that secret love for an unattainable woman.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Diane looked over at Frank and could see his smile spread across his face.

“When I was nineteen, home from college for the summer, this couple moved in next door. She was just the most beautiful woman I had ever seen—long black hair, green eyes, long legs. It was love at first sight. The hardest part was keeping my brothers from finding out how I felt. I’d never have heard the end of it.”

Frank turned the car onto the road leading to the airport terminal. “I can’t even remember what the husband looked like, but I remember her. I mowed their lawn, did chores, anything, just to catch a glimpse of her. It was a wonderful summer.” He drove up to the dropoff area. “I have to let you out and go to work. I hope that’s all right.”

“I’ll be fine.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss. “So unattainable women inspire desire in young males. Is that what you are saying?”

“More or less.”

Diane started to get out of the car. Suddenly she turned back to Frank. “She didn’t remain unattainable, did she?”

Frank didn’t say anything. He only gave her an amused smile that made his eyes glitter.

“I’ve got to hear about this when I get back.”

“Have a good trip. Give me a call this evening.”

Diane retrieved her bag from the backseat and headed inside the Atlanta airport. She dreaded this trip.