"I don't suppose there were any orange carpet fi bers?" said Garnett.

"No matching orange carpet fibers found anywhere yet. So far we haven't been able to physically connect any of the crime scenes. The only connection is the coincidence of Edwards and Mayberry finding the bodies and Waller a.s.sisting with the autopsy."

"So it could all be a coincidence," said Garnett. "And one murder doesn't have a d.a.m.n thing to do with the others."

Diane briefly went over the other crime scenes, ex cept Raymond Waller's. They had covered them in the previous meeting, but it helped her to repeat the evidence. She suspected it would help Braden and Garnett too.

Both Sheriff Braden and Chief Garnett were silent when she finished her summary. Each sat back in his chair like they were digesting a large meal.

"The perp was looking for something in both the Edwards and Waller crime scenes," said the sheriff, after a moment.

"In Mayberry's trailer, too," said Diane. "It was tossed like the others."

"So what do you think the perp, or perps, was look ing for?" asked the sheriff to neither of them in particular.

"Waller had a significant baseball collection," said Garnett. "I don't know that our other two boys had anything valuable."

Diane gave Garnett copies of the newest reports on the Chris Edwards scene and gave the sheriff the photographs of the Cobber's Wood skeletons.

"I'll send you information as it comes in," she said. "For the sheriff's case, identifying the victims is the key to the solution. If the crimes are related, then that may shed light on the others."

"If not, it'll have to be the old-fashioned way of interviewing everyone the vics knew," said Garnett. "I've got detectives doing that right now. So far, it looks like Edwards and Mayberry didn't have an enemy in the world. They were just two recent gradu ates from the forestry department working as timber cruisers. Raymond Waller didn't have any enemies ei ther. He went to work every day and never got into any trouble. The worst we could find out about him is that he may have given a funeral home or two a heads-up on deaths that came through the morgue."

Garnett turned to Diane. "Do you think it was the killer who called you?"

"I don't know. Every time the news shows that in terview with me the day we opened the crime lab, I get all kinds of mail and phone calls from people who don't like it. It could very well be one of those people with some strange take on justice. However, the flow ers bother me."

"Flowers?" asked the sheriff.

Diane explained to him about the flowers, the Email and the phone call.

"This changes things a bit. You say you occasionally have this problem from people who see the interview?"

"None have ever sent flowers before."

"The guy who called from the motel on 441 says he sent the flowers, and he also E-mailed you from inside the museum."

"I don't know if the E-mail was the same guy-but the themes of justice and guilt seem to be similar. So it wouldn't be a stretch thinking it's the same person."

"Then if we watch you, we're likely to catch the killer," said the sheriff.

"For which crime?" asked Garnett.

"Who knows?" began the sheriff.

He was interrupted by a detective who stuck his head in the door.

"Chief, we got an emergency call from Dr. Lynn Webber."

Chapter 24.

Garnett and the sheriff dashed out the door. Diane wanted to go with them, but there was no reason for her presence. She stood in Garnett's office a moment with a chill in the pit of her stomach. What was going on? She was beginning to feel responsible for not solv ing the murders. Maybe there was something she and her team had missed.

As she started out the door, Janice Warrick ap peared suddenly, blocking her exit. She had on her blue police uniform, her light brown hair pulled back into the same French twist she wore when she was a detective.

"I know you think I blame you," Warrick said, "and maybe I do a little, but Neva tells me you treat her fairly and take up for her with him." She nodded toward Garnett's office.

"I try to treat all my employees fairly. Neva does a good job."

Janice Warrick stood for a moment, still in front of Diane, hesitating. "There's something that's been bothering me. I'm not usually a cruel person, but I said something cruel to you that had to do with your daughter being adopted-about your picking up strays. It's weighed on me." She hesitated a moment and Diane thought she might actually get teary. "I'm sorry about that. I was sorry as soon as I said it." She turned abruptly and walked off before Diane could respond.

Diane left Garnett's office and wove her way through the squad room. She stopped at the whiteboard a mo ment, looking for anything they might have thought of that she and her team hadn't. But there was noth ing, no pattern or startling revelation jumping out at her.

On the steps outside the police station, she ran into Kacie Beck. Her blond hair hung in limp sections, and she pushed a lock of it out of her eyes when she saw Diane. Her blue eyes looked bluer, set in her blood shot sclera. She looked at Diane a moment, as if not remembering where she had seen her.

"I was at the crime scene," offered Diane.

"I didn't kill Chris. If you think I did, you're letting the real murderer get away."

"I don't think anything. I just worked the crime scene. Can I ask you some questions?"

"I've told the police everything I know. I'm tired and I want to go home."

"I can see you need some peace. I just have a few questions."

Kacie looked around. "s.h.i.t, I don't have my car." She dug in her purse and brought out her phone and scowled at the display. "They let the d.a.m.n thing run down. The least they could do was turn it off for me."

"Let me take you home."

"Why not? But you aren't going to get me to admit to anything I didn't do."

Diane led her to her car, and Kacie got in on the pa.s.senger's side and sat slumped in the corner. She looked even smaller than she did sitting on Chris Ed wards' couch at the crime scene.

"Buckle your seat belt," said Diane.

"What does it matter? It would at least end it if I went through the windshield."

"Maybe not. You might just end up scarred and brain damaged. Besides, if we're involved in an acci dent, you might flop around inside the car and hurt me."

Kacie laughed despite herself and clicked her seat belt in place. Diane drove to a Waffle House close to Kacie's apartment. Inside, Diane selected a booth in the rear of the diner. Kacie ordered a hamburger. Diane ordered a slice of pie and coffee.

When the waitress left the table, Kacie said, "I gotta go to the bathroom and wash my hands and face. I've never been in a jail before. What a nasty, stinking place."

After several minutes, Diane wasn't sure she was coming back. But eventually, Kacie slid back into her seat, looking marginally better. Little strands of moist hair bordered her face. As they waited for their order, Kacie nervously turned the engagement ring on her finger.

"That's a nice ring," said Diane.

Kacie stopped turning it and looked at the ring-a diamond solitaire set in either platinum or white gold.

"Chris gave it to me the morning before he died."

It looked like a rather large diamond to Diane, but she didn't know jewelry and it had been quite a while since she had an engagement ring. The waitress brought their food and drinks. Kacie nibbled at her hamburger, put it down and picked up a fry.

"I'm sorry about Chris," said Diane.

"I hate this. The police don't know what they are doing. Sometimes they acted like Chris was involved in something and caused this himself."

"They're just trying to find out what happened to him."

"It looked like one of those home invasions to me."

"Did Chris have a lot of valuables? Do you know what they might have been looking for?"

Kacie shrugged her shoulders and nibbled on her fry. Diane tried another tack.

"He must have paid a lot for that diamond. Does Chris have a lot of money that the thieves may have been after?"

Kacie looked at her ring. "He said he was going to show my parents. They don't really like Chris."

"Why not? He was a nice guy with an advanced degree. He had a job."

"My parents consider forestry blue-collar."

"Ah, they must know my parents."

Kacie looked up at Diane, her blue eyes puzzled.

"My parents consider anyone not a doctor or a law yer to be blue-collar-unless he owns a Fortune 500 company."

"That's sort of my parents." She smirked. "It's not going to look good in the hometown paper that I was arrested for his murder."

Diane guessed that Kacie really was looking for ward to it coming out in the hometown paper.

"You don't have any clue who might have done this? Could Steven Mayberry have killed him?"

"Steven? The police asked that. No. No more than I could. We're students-we don't kill people."

"I thought Steven and Chris had graduated."

"They've finished their course work. They both have to finish their thesis, but they're almost done- were almost done."

Diane wasn't getting anywhere talking to Kacie. She now believed Kacie had no idea why her fiance was killed.

"Do you have any idea where Steven Mayberry might be?"

"He has family. Haven't the police contacted them?"

"I'm sure. But I thought you might know some place he would go."

"If he's not with family, then . . ." She let it trail off.

"Why did you go over there so late?"

"Chris'? I had to work late. I didn't get off till eleven."

"A witness said you were there earlier than eleven."

"That's what the police kept asking me. I was there, but I didn't go in-not all the way in. I had a twentyminute break, and I ran over to check on him. He'd been coming down with something. I knocked, opened the door a little and called out. The house was dark. When he didn't answer, I thought he was asleep and I didn't want to wake him up." Tears sprang up in her eyes. "I thought he needed rest. Maybe if I'd gone in, maybe- I always lock the door when I'm there. Chris never did. If I'd been there and had the door locked, whoever it was wouldn't have gotten in and he'd still be alive."

"There was nothing you could have done. Don't blame yourself."

"You don't think I did it?"

Not without a lot of help, she thought. "No, I don't think you did." she thought. "No, I don't think you did."

Kacie wasn't very hungry. Diane had Kacie's meal put in a carryout. She dropped her off at her apart ment and walked her to her door.

"Try to get some sleep. Do you have a friend you can call?"

Kacie nodded. "I'll be all right."

Diane spent the remainder of the day working at her museum job, doing something she liked the least- meeting with the board. She handed out budget and income reports for them to review, including a report on the initial findings on the mummy, hoping that would keep them busy and off any discussion of the crime lab. Board members also got some of the crank E-mails whenever she appeared on television in con nection with the work of the crime lab.

She needn't have worried. All they could talk about was the mummy, as if having one made the place a real museum, as if all museums worth their salt had to have an Egyptology exhibit.

"So, do you know what he did for a living?" Laura Hillard was one of Diane's oldest friends. They first met in kindergarten, and remained friends even after Diane moved away with her parents when she was in eighth grade.

"I know he spent a lot of time sitting slumped over. There are a handful of jobs in ancient Egypt that would have kept him long hours in that position. Jonas and Kendel will be giving us more information. I just know about the bones at this point."

"And where is Miss Williams?" asked Madge Stew art, another member of the board. "I haven't met her yet. I was really hoping she would be here." Madge looked around the room as if Kendel might be sitting in a corner keeping quiet.

"She went to Virginia to try to acquire some arti facts that belong with our mummy."

Diane explained that mummies of a certain time were wrapped with amulets that represented luck, pro tection and help in getting into the underworld after death.

"Family members of the donor are reported to have some in their possession. I'm told that sometimes there were as many as a hundred such amulets. They would add a lot to the value of the mummy."

"This is so exciting," said Madge. "An Egyptian exhibit will be so good for the museum."

"We have a CT scan scheduled next week for him. That may give us more information about who he was."

Thankfully, all the conversation was taken up with the mummy and Diane was able to adjourn the meet ing in a good mood. She counted herself lucky. Per haps in time the board members who were queasy about the location of the crime lab inside the museum would become proud of the work that was done there.