Authors: Beverly Connor
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Mystery, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Fiction - Mystery, #Detective, #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Women Sleuths, #Medical, #Police Procedural, #Mystery fiction, #Forensic anthropologists, #Georgia, #Diane (Fictitious character), #Women forensic anthropologists, #Fallon, #Fallon; Diane (Fictitious character)
Chapter 24
Diane held her breath for several seconds and slowly let it out. A sick knot formed in her stomach. What was he up to? Her father was downstairs and too far away to call. She could dial 911. She started to, holding her hand over the phone display to hide the light, but she hesitated. She knew instinctively that Alan would say she had invited him to her room, and her father would probably believe him. She would have caused an uproar at one of the worst times in their lives. She stayed her finger, but held the open phone.
“Diane,” Alan whispered in the darkness.
Diane watched as he approached her bed and stood looking down at the crumpled sheets. He glanced for a few seconds toward the open bathroom door. Diane readied herself for an approach to her hiding place. But his gaze didn’t linger on the closet. He turned around and retraced his steps, stopping at the chair where she had thrown off her clothes. Picking up her camisole, he held it to his face and breathed in. Diane raised her eyebrows and her phone camera. She had clicked several pictures by the time he put down her clothes and walked out her bedroom door.
What was he doing? Diane stayed in the closet for several moments, waiting for him to come back. When he didn’t, she stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief. She suddenly thought of her father downstairs. What if he was making his way down to him? What if he had suddenly turned into a maniac?
Diane grabbed her robe and dashed across the room, cautiously looking out the door and listening. She heard his footsteps going down the stairs and ran on tiptoe in the opposite direction down an alternate set of stairs to get to the first-floor hallway—where her father’s room was. At the bottom landing, she listened for steps. It was quiet. Leaving the concealment the stairs provided, Diane walked down the hallway toward the kitchen end of the house. Was that a door slamming? She ran to the kitchen and into the utility hallway that connected to the garage, following the noise. At the end of the hall through the window she saw a flash of light, like headlights turning down the drive. She ran to the living room and looked out at the lit driveway just in time to see Alan’s car turn the curve.
“Okay, that was weird,” she said to herself.
“What’s weird, dear?”
Diane whirled around.
“Dad.”
So much for her good ears. She hadn’t heard him at all. He stood in the doorway to the living room, looking out the windows, probably searching for whatever she was looking at.
“I saw a flash of light—like a car.”
“You didn’t see that from your room?”
It was more of a question than an accusation.
“No.”
What was she going to say—
I’m down here protecting you from Alan gone mad?
“I had a slight headache and I came down to get some aspirin. The bottle in my bathroom is out-of-date. I thought Glenda might keep some in the kitchen.”
“I believe she does. If not, I have some in my bathroom.” He smiled at her. “Cars sometimes use our drive to turn around in. No reason for alarm.”
She followed him into the kitchen, where he reached up into one of the dark oak cabinets and retrieved a bottle of aspirin.
“These are no good; they’re children’s aspirin. Glenda probably takes one of these every day. Oh, here’s another bottle.”
He handed it to Diane and she jiggled a couple out into her hand, wondering what she was going to do with them.
She was caught now. Why had she said that? If she took them, they would probably cause her wound to bleed or weep. But she couldn’t tell her father about that, so she had to do something with them.
“Maybe you need to eat an apple or drink a glass of milk. It’s not good to take those on an empty stomach,” her father said.
“Would you like me to pour you some milk, too?”
“That might help. I can’t sleep either.” He sighed. “I keep thinking of your mother in that place.”
“I know, Dad. But she’s safe now and we’ll have her out tomorrow.”
Diane turned to take a carton of milk from the refrigerator and dropped the aspirin into the pocket of her robe. She poured two glasses of milk and they sat down at the kitchen table. She pretended to put the aspirin in her mouth, then took a drink of milk, feeling like a kid who had done something wrong and was hiding it from her father.
“That’s one good thing about your crime work: At least you know your way around the system. I’m afraid poor Alan was out of his depth. He’s a financial lawyer, you know.”
Her crime work. Diane and the case of the secreted aspirin, she thought. “It was a friend who helped the most. Frank Duncan.”
Her father puckered his brow. “How do I know that name?”
“We date.”
“Oh, I think I remember something about him. A good man?”
“A very good man. He’s a detective in Atlanta. Does mainly white collar crimes. When I told him about Mother, he knew right away what might have happened.”
Her father looked very sad. He stared at the milk, not drinking. “You know,” he said, “I can’t help thinking that this may have been my fault.”
“Your fault? How?”
“The market’s not been good lately. Some of my clients have had losses. Of course, if they’d just stayed the course . . . But some of them blame me.”
“I doubt it has anything to do with that,” said Diane, though such a motive had crossed her mind too. “That’s a rather severe reaction for an investment downturn.” She took a drink of the milk.
“You know, sitting in front of a computer doing mischief . . . that’s a pretty safe way to get even with someone. You don’t have to even leave home, you don’t have to worry about confronting anyone, you just hit a few buttons and wreck someone’s life.”
“It’s tricker than that in this case. The police don’t take kindly to people hacking into their system, and it may have left an electronic trail they can backtrack.”
“Then why did they take such a risk?” He shook his head. “Diane, you need to come home more often. Get to know us. Let us get to know you again.”
“I know, Dad. I will.” She searched for a change of subject. “Susan tells me Kayla would like a job in the museum next summer.”
“Yes, she said that. I didn’t realize until this evening at dinner that you actually run the museum. That’s a big job.”
“There’s a lot of satisfaction in it. I learn new things all the time.”
Her father had run out of things to say to her, too. He fingered his glass and downed the rest of his milk.
“I guess we’d better get some sleep. Maybe the milk will help. Just put the glasses on the sink. Glenda will get them tomorrow.”
Diane walked with him to his door and went up the back staircase to her room. She locked her door and put a chair under the knob. Then she checked the window to make sure it was locked, even though she was on the second floor and she doubted that Alan could climb anything.
She got into bed and turned on her bedside lamp so she could look at the photos of Alan she had taken with her camera. They were too dark. She knew they would be, but perhaps the brightness and contrast could be improved. David could do wonders with bad photographs, though she had doubts that there was anything here to work with. She e-mailed them to her computer at the museum and then sent an e-mail to Jin, telling him where to find them and asking him to see what he could do with them. She also sent an e-mail to David and told him to check out Alan Delacroix for an alibi. It had occurred to her that maybe it was Alan who had stabbed her. Though she didn’t know why he would stab Mike. Jealousy, perhaps? But how would he even know Mike? Could Alan have been stalking her?
It took a few minutes to send the photos and write messages to Jin and David using the buttons on the handset. When she finished, she flipped her phone closed, put it under her pillow and went to sleep.
Tombsberg Prison for Women looked like a cheap cinder-block fort in the middle of a field of dead grass. It was surrounded by a chain-link fence topped by razor wire.
The prison was built just after World War II and meant to house only four hundred inmates at most. The current population hovered around two thousand and was little more than a warehouse for women prisoners. Tombsberg didn’t have any educational programs, rehabilitation programs, occupational programs or any other activities to occupy the prisoners’ time. It was riddled with disease, and medical care was better in third-world countries. On any list of prisons, Tombsberg would rank at the bottom.
Diane and her family arrived in the early morning. Gerald drove. Diane’s father had sat beside him in the front seat while Susan and Diane sat in back. They followed Daniel Reynolds’s car through the gates and into visitor parking and got out of the car. Diane stretched her aching muscles. She longed for a good run.
“Oh, God,” said Susan. “This is terrible. I can’t believe Mother is in this place.”
“The warden knows we’re coming,” Reynolds said. “We’ll have to do some paperwork, but it shouldn’t take long.”
They all made their way to the warden’s office and waited while Reynolds and his assistant made arrangements for Diane’s mother to be released. The waiting room looked as cheaply constructed and decorated as the rest of the place. They sat uneasily for two hours on dingy lime-green couch and chairs, hardly talking.
Finally the door opened and Diane’s mother stepped through, escorted by Daniel Reynolds. A guard closed the door behind them. She ran to Diane’s father as soon as she saw him. The look on her mother’s face reminded Diane of what she had seen in the faces of refugees.
“Oh, Nathan, I can’t believe this nightmare is over. It’s been so horrible.”
Diane’s mother was usually well dressed and well coiffed. Her dark-brown-and-silver hair was now pulled back in a bun at the back of her neck in a way she would never wear it. Her clothes looked like she had slept in them for a week—they had probably been rolled up in a bag and returned to her just before their arrival, to wear in place of the orange prison coveralls.
Iris Fallon hugged Susan and Gerald, then Diane last. “Your father tells me you are the one to thank for getting me out of here.”
“I had help from a detective friend who discovered the falsified records and recommended we go to Mr. Reynolds. Mr. Reynolds is the one who got you out.”
Diane’s mother went to the lawyer and took his hands in hers. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
He grinned. “I take checks.” They all laughed. “Seriously, I’m glad to help. This is just a terrible miscarriage of justice.”
They left without any apology from the warden and without looking back. On the way out to the car Reynolds asked Diane who it was who recommended him. When she told him it was Frank, Reynolds smiled.
“Frank Duncan. I’ve had him on the stand before. So he recommended me, did he? One of the toughest people I’ve ever cross-examined. He knows his stuff.”
“Apparently he thinks the same about you.”
Diane’s mother didn’t even want to stop to eat. Diane tried to talk her into going first to the doctor to get checked out, but she said she’d make an appointment later.
“I just want to get home,” she said. “I just want to get home.”
They drove the two hours back to Birmingham. Glenda had a huge meal waiting for them, but the first thing her mother wanted to do was take a shower and change clothes. As they waited for her, Diane managed to subtly herd Gerald out to the patio. She was not looking forward to this, but with Alan’s recent behavior, she had even more reason to try to keep their marriage intact. She took a sip of wine and bit her lower lip before she began.
Chapter 25
“Susan told me about what the two of you are going through right now,” said Diane.
“What we are going through? Nice way of putting it. How about what Susan is making me go through? I suppose she wants you to talk to me.” Gerald looked at his wineglass, turning it in his hand as if examining the ruby-red color. “She wants you to convince me they weren’t having an affair, is that right?” He took a drink.
She sat down on the low rock-garden wall. Gerald sat down beside her. “I don’t believe she was having an affair.”
“You’re her sister. What else would you say?”
“You know we don’t get along. I was surprised she took me into her confidence enough to ask me to help.”
“I guess it shows her desperation.” He took another sip of wine.
“Desperation doesn’t mean guilt.”
He looked over at Diane, his jaw set, his face like granite. “Why do you believe her, Diane? Can you tell me that?”
“I’ve spoken with enough liars in my time to pretty much be able to pick them out. Susan’s a bad liar; she always has been. I know her, and I know when she’s lying and when she’s telling the truth. She’s telling the truth.” Diane took a drink of her wine. It was sweet—a little too sweet. “Gerald, it was just a kiss.”
Gerald’s laugh was without any mirth. “She said it wasn’t even a good kiss.”
“I can believe that. Alan never was very good.”
Gerald chuckled again. This time he seemed to mean it.
Diane laughed with him. “You don’t like him, do you?” he asked.
“No. I never have. Gerald, I know this has to hurt like hell, but it was New Year’s Eve, for heaven’s sake.”
“It wasn’t a New Year’s kiss; even Susan admitted that.”
“It probably wasn’t. I’m sure everyone was drinking. I’ve noticed that Susan is feeling like she’s getting older these days and less attractive. I’m sure that had something to do with it. Just forgive her and move on.”
The afternoon air was smothering in a way that only Southern climates could pull off. The rain the day before made it steamy. Even with fall approaching, it still felt like summer. The heat never left the South quickly.
“It’s not that easy,” said Gerald.
Diane looked over at Gerald. “Is it harder than disrupting your children’s lives?”
“It wasn’t my doing that got us here.” His voice was filled with emotion.
“Nevertheless, you are now the one with the power to stop it.” Diane took another sip of her wine. “Don’t let Alan do this to you.”
Gerald set set his wineglass down on the wall. “You should come around more often, Diane. You’re the only one in the family I can talk to sometimes. Is Alan the reason you don’t?”
“Part of the reason, but not all of it. There were some things said about my daughter that are hard to forget.” Diane touched her locket.
“Your daughter? Oh . . . look, Diane, I suppose I’m as guilty as the others. I’m really sorry. Honestly. I would like to have met her.”
“Ariel was very bright. She spoke three languages and was working on a fourth, and she was only six. To her, learning a new language was like learning a song. She loved music. Ariel was very special and very precious.” Diane’s eyes teared up. “This is what she looked like.” Diane showed him the locket with their pictures in it.
“Cute little girl. It looks like the two of you were dressed alike.”
“We were.”
“I don’t think any of us appreciated what you went through, and I’m sorry for my part.”
Diane snapped the locket closed. “You are the first person in the family to express that.” She paused, and there was an awkward silence between them. She wondered if he yet understood what Ariel meant to her. “I also have another reason I want you and Susan to patch things up.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m concerned about Mother and Dad. I’m afraid that Alan might have excessive influence over them and that he’s going off the deep end.” Diane took another sip of wine and swallowed hard. “Alan came into my bedroom last night.”
Gerald jerked his head around to Diane. “What? What did he do? He didn’t . . .”
Diane shook her head. “This is going to sound really strange, and all I can say is that I’ve been gun-shy lately. I heard footsteps outside my door and I hid in the closet. He came in, called my name, stared around the room and left, after sniffing my clothes.”
Gerald made a face. “Good heavens, did you tell Nathan?”
It was a relief to be able to talk to Gerald about Alan. Her parents were so upset when she divorced him, she felt the whole family was against her. “No. I didn’t tell Dad. I don’t want to introduce another issue with everything that’s going on. Dad is very fond of Alan.”
“Tell me about it. I sometimes wonder if Alan isn’t really his son.”
Diane smiled. “I doubt he would have let me marry him.”
“Yeah, right. I sometimes forget,” said Gerald, chuckling.
“God, Gerald, don’t put that thought in my head.” They both laughed. Diane noticed dark clouds in the sky and wondered if they would have another shower.
“I understand,” he said. “But really, you need to tell your father about last night. That had to scare you.”
“It did, but they have had enough to worry about. They need a break.”
“I agree. It’s been pretty awful for all of us, especially when we didn’t know where she was.” He shook his head. “Susan was a wreck. She tried to hide it for the kids, but . . .”
“Just keep an eye out for Alan. Has he mentioned me at all?”
“No, not really. Sometimes in passing, and I’m afraid nothing complimentary.”
“I just can’t imagine what last night was about. I had to ask someone from my crime lab to investigate him. He’s made himself a suspect.”
Gerald frowned. “You don’t think he could have stabbed you?”
The edge of the rock wall cut into her legs, so Diane stood up and smoothed out her slacks. “Honestly, I doubt it, but I have to check. I’ll do it discreetly.”
She thought of her discreet investigation of Annette Lymon. Stressors could cause people to do some amazing things, and she seemed to have a lot of stressed-out people around her. Diane saw her mother through the glass doors of the patio returning from her shower.
“Let’s go eat lunch.”
Diane and Gerald walked into the dining room from the patio. Susan looked up expectantly. Diane smiled at her. She didn’t know what to tell her, except that she thought that the conversation had gone well. Gerald walked over to Susan and whispered in her ear. Susan turned to Diane with a horrified look and mouthed,
Alan?
Diane nodded. Susan grasped Gerald’s hand and they walked into the dining room. Glenda was serving a feast for lunch—grilled salmon, ambrosia salad and grilled summer squash.
“It’s a relief to have you back, Mrs. Fallon.”
“Thank you, Glenda. This looks delicious,” Diane’s mother said as she sat down heavily, sighed and spread her napkin in her lap.
They ate in silence for several minutes. One or the other of them would occasionally try to make small talk. Suddenly her mother broke down and started sobbing.
“Iris,” said Nathan Fallon, reaching over to put an arm around her shoulders. He looked helpless.
“I just don’t know how I’m going to face everybody.”
“With indignation and a sense of dark humor,” said Diane.
Everyone looked at Diane, as if no one had expected her mother’s question to be answered and was surprised that she had. Diane felt that what her mother needed was some practical advice.
“Mother, most everyone will take their cue from you. If you act ashamed, they will treat you as if you have something to be ashamed of. Be frank and indignant about what happened to you and outraged that such a thing could be allowed to happen. Accept no guilt or shame whatsoever.”
“Good advice,” said Gerald.
“You might want to write an article for the newspaper,” said Diane. “Let everyone know what can happen to a perfectly innocent, law-abiding citizen.”
Her mother shook her head back and forth. “I couldn’t.”
“I can write one for you and let you read it. If you are comfortable with it, send it in as a human-interest article on the perils of relying too much on computers without proper safeguards.”
Her mother moved her fork around in her vegetables. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
“They will find out anyway, but the knowledge will be passed on in whispers behind your back. Making it public knowledge takes the power away from gossipers. When you talk to people about it, sprinkle in some humor here and there. People react favorably to people who can laugh at themselves in the direst situations.”
“What could possibly be funny about any of this?” said Susan.
“I don’t know,” said her mother. She tried to eat a few more bites of her food, but ended up putting down her fork. She looked at Diane. “You mean something like, ‘I had to leave before I could get my prison tattoo’?”
Diane laughed out loud. “That’s funny.”
Neither of her parents was known for their sense of humor, and her mother had made a joke. Susan and the others laughed, too. Diane was relieved to see it.
None of them did justice to Glenda’s terrific meal, and all of them apologized to her. Susan and Gerald went out on the terrace to talk. Diane sat in the living room visiting with her parents, trying to steer clear of all the argument traps she usually fell into. That was made easier because both of them were more subdued in their opinions today.
Then her mother said, “You know, dear, Alan is still very fond of you.”
Diane started to open her mouth to give some sort of noninflammatory reply, like
I could tell by the way he sniffed my clothes,
when her phone rang. Whoever it was, she felt grateful.
“Excuse me.” She looked at the display. “It’s the museum. I need to take this.”
It was actually David. Diane walked into another room and flipped up her phone to answer.
“David, hello.”
“Sorry to bother you at your parents’ home.”
“No bother.” She felt like giving him a raise for getting her away from her family. “You called at a very fortuitous moment. Did you get my e-mail? It was rather abbreviated because I did it by phone.”
“Yes, I’m getting on it. The reason I called is to tell you that the crime lab and your osteology lab were broken into. They stole several things out of the crime lab, including a couple of microscopes and some of Caver Doe’s things. They also stole the skeleton from England that was in your bone lab.”
Diane’s face flushed with anger—not only at the thieves, but at her security guards. How could they let this happen? “When?” she asked.
“Last night around three A.M.”
“I’ll leave here as soon as I can make arrangements.”
“That’ll be a relief. I don’t like cutting your visit short, but frankly, we’ve suddenly got bodies piling up.”
Diane told her parents that there was an emergency at the crime lab and she had to get back.
“Oh, no,” pleaded her mother, “With everything that’s happened, couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’ve just gotten to see you after all this time. We haven’t really had time to visit. I’m still so—”
“Surely, Diane,” said her father, “someone else can handle matters for a few days. We need you here with us right now.”
Diane could feel her guilt index rising. “I’m sorry to leave sooner than I expected. But with the authority I have at the museum also comes the responsibility. Something very serious has happened involving a break-in at the crime lab and the loss of evidence entrusted to me. I simply have to get back to take charge of the investigation.”
Besides
, she thought,
we’ll only start arguing after a few days, and then I won’t be out of your hair fast enough.
“But what about your mother?” asked her father.
“Daniel Reynolds will do everything that needs to be done. It’s all legal procedures and paperwork now, and I’m no help with that. She’s in the best of hands. And Susan is right next door. She was a big help when we were at the lawyer’s office.” That wasn’t exactly true, but complimenting her sister was bound to get her some credits with them.
“You don’t have to leave right this minute, do you?” asked her mother.
“No. I’ll stay tonight and leave tomorrow morning on the first available flight.”
“Well, that’s something, at least,” said her mother. By the tone in her voice, Diane could tell she was hurt, and frankly, Diane couldn’t blame her. It was callous to leave so soon after her ordeal. But Diane had to see about the crime lab and the museum. She thought about asking them to come with her and visit, but dismissed that idea. She wouldn’t have time to spend with them, and that would also hurt their feelings. There was no way to win.
“I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning,” said Susan.
Considering the condition everyone was in, Diane might as well have gone back to Georgia that afternoon. Despite everyone’s wanting to hear about her mother’s experience, Iris was simply too exhausted after her ordeal to carry on a conversation. She kept dozing off and finally went up to her bedroom shortly after dark.
Diane’s father was fidgety, worrying about her mother, and didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He appeared to be blaming himself for not being able to help her mother sooner, while not really understanding what had happened or why. He seemed very concerned that he was somehow responsible.
Susan and Gerald were distracted by their own problem that needed to be resolved, and they made their excuses and left while Diane’s mother was napping.
The only absolutely positive event of the evening was that Diane was saved from having to see Alan again. He was uncharacteristically absent.
When she and Susan pulled away from the house the next morning, Diane’s mother and father stood on the steps and waved good-bye to her. Her father stood with his arm around her mother’s shoulders, trying hard to be strong. Her mother had tears in her eyes and leaned her head against her father’s chest.
On the way to the airport, Susan told her that Gerald had been easier to talk to about “the event,” as she called it. Diane must have had some influence with him. And probably for the first time in her life, Susan expressed gratitude. Diane was surprised that she could have a positive influence on the family. That alone would have made the trip worthwhile.