"Yes, I do. Rather tenacious. They aren't going to like not having a body."

That's what I figured, she thought. she thought.

When Diane hung up, she felt a cold stab of fear in the pit of her stomach. She was quickly losing control of everything around her and the thought panicked her. She gripped Mike's geode tightly, inhaled deeply, and let her breath out slowly. She had to solve the mysteries-all of them-or she could never make her world right. She set the geode down, got up, and headed down to the restaurant, hoping that the young woman who waited on her and Kingsley was working today.

Chapter 26.

The museum restaurant with its tall old-brick archways and vaulted chambers looked very much like a medieval castle. In the evenings all the tables were lit by candles. It was a cozy restaurant and served good food. This evening the restaurant was packed, as it had been the previous evening when Diane was there with Kingsley. She glanced around the room and saw several people she knew. So far no one had noticed her. She spoke to the hostess and asked if Karalyn was working tonight. She was. Diane asked to see her in the manager's office.

"Sure. Is everything okay?" asked the hostess.

"Fine," said Diane, hoping her smile didn't look as fake as if felt. "Just ask her to meet me, please."

Diane hated this kind of interview. Karalyn was young and had worked at the restaurant for several months while attending Bartram University. Diane couldn't really imagine her drugging the patrons-or her. Diane walked to the back of the restaurant, looking straight ahead. She saw someone wave to her out of the corner of her eye. She pretended she didn't notice.

Diane went into the office, a small room with a desk piled high with papers and restaurant catalogs. She pulled out two chairs, sat down in one, and waited for Karalyn.

"Sorry I took so long to see you . . . someone didn't show up for work and I have to fill in for him," she said, a little out of breath.

"Did you lose someone?" asked Diane. She motioned to the chair and Karalyn sat down.

"One of the wait staff didn't show up and the manager can't get hold of him. It's common in this business, unfortunately. Some people don't bother to call." She frowned and smoothed her long skirt.

"Do you remember me and a gentleman eating dinner last night?"

"Sure. He was here most of the day," said Karalyn.

"When we were eating, did you fill the drinks you brought us?"

"Why...no, as a matter of fact, Bobby Banks did." said Karalyn. "He's the one who didn't show up. Was something wrong with the drinks?"

"Why did he fill them and not you?" asked Diane.

Karalyn's frown deepened. "He offered," she said. "We were so busy. I just thought he was trying to get on my good side, to ask me out." She paused a moment. "He wasn't, was he?"

Diane shook her head. "No, I don't think he was. Do you have an address for him?"

"Sure." Karalyn jumped up and went to a filing cabinet and started looking through the files.

"Did you or anyone here notice anything unusual about Bobby yesterday?" asked Diane as Karalyn searched for the address.

"No. He was his usual self. Funny and friendly. We all like him. He's a good worker and he doesn't try to steal tips. A little odd, though. Very juvenile acting. Well, this is funny," said Karalyn.

"What?" asked Diane.

"His address: 1214 Rockwell Drive," she said.

"Rockwell only goes to 800. That would put him in the woods," said Diane.

"It would. What's going on?" she said, looking at Diane with a frown.

"What does he look like?" asked Diane.

"Blond hair. Hazel eyes. Slim. Real cute . . . almost pretty in a guy sort of way," said Karalyn. "About five ten, I guess. My boyfriend is five ten and Bobby seems about that tall."

"Does he have a personal s.p.a.ce? Don't you guys have lockers?" asked Diane.

Karalyn nodded. "That was an odd thing about him," she said. "He was really into cleanliness."

"What do you mean?" asked Diane.

"He's always wiping down everything. Even his locker." She paused a moment in thought. "He was getting rid of fingerprints, wasn't he?"

Karalyn was getting that sparkle in her eye that Diane often saw in people when they found themselves landed in a mystery.

"Maybe," said Diane.

"Wow, can't you tell me what he did?" she said.

"I don't know that he did anything," said Diane. "I just need to speak with him." She left Karalyn closing the filing cabinet and walked out and through the restaurant.

"Diane."

She recognized the voice of Kenneth Meyerson, one of the board members. She turned to him and smiled. He was at a table with his wife.

"Can you sit down a minute?" he asked.

Diane hesitated, then smiled and sat down. "Just a minute. How are you and Evelyn?"

"We're great. Just going to a concert on campus tonight. Ever heard of a fellow named August Kellenmeyer?" asked Kenneth.

"Oh, Ken, of course she has," said his wife.

Evelyn was a pet.i.te woman with pixielike short, dark hair and a heart-shaped face. She reminded Diane of Clara Bow.

"Pianist," said Diane. "Yes. One of my favorites."

"I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the board meeting yesterday," said Kenneth.

"You enjoyed that?" said Diane. "You must be hard up for entertainment."

He chuckled. "Oh, you don't know. Before you arrived, Barclay was telling Vanessa, 'This is what happens when you have no oversight. You've got to change this. The board has to have more power. I'll show you how to handle this.' He hammered his hand up and down on the table like he was swatting flies." Kenneth laughed. "I guess he did show her how to handle it. I thought to myself when he was going on, Diane's going to rip him a new one. And you did."

"I take it you've had a run-in with him before," said Diane.

"Oh, yeah. When I was just starting out I went to his bank for a loan. He treated me like I was hardly worth stepping on. Barely looked at me when he was turning down my application and lecturing me on how there are bigger computer companies out there and who was I to think I could compete with them out of my garage," he said.

Kenneth's computer company was now both successful and international, but Diane could tell he still felt the sting of that rejection.

"I guess you showed him," said Diane.

Kenneth waved his hand dismissively. "He's turned down so many loans since then, I don't think he even remembers me. It was a long time ago. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the meeting."

"Why did you guys vote him in?" asked Diane.

"I didn't. You know Vanessa, Laura, and Madge. They are old Rosewood just like Barclay. Laura thinks he's just a gruff avuncular bear. h.e.l.l, he's good to his own kind. And Vanessa thought we could use a banker. I don't think they were pleased with his performance, to tell you the truth."

"I certainly wasn't," said Diane. She wished Kenneth and his wife a pleasant evening and left hoping she wouldn't run into anyone else. But as she exited the restaurant she ran into Vanessa and Laura leaving at the same time. Normally she enjoyed visiting with them. But not today. She stiffened as they said h.e.l.lo.

Chapter 27.

"Diane," said Vanessa, "Laura and I have been trying to get in touch with you since ...well, the board meeting . . . and now the papers. Someone invaded your home? Are you all right? Can we talk?"

Vanessa and Laura looked like they were going to the same concert as the Meyersons. They glittered and shined in flashy evening clothes.

"Aren't the two of you going to be late somewhere?" asked Diane.

"We have time," said Vanessa.

Both were staring at Diane's forehead.

"You're hurt," said Laura.

"Not much," said Diane. She looked at her watch. "I really have to go..."

"Diane, please," said Vanessa. "Take a little time and talk to us?"

Diane shrugged. "Very little time."

She led them across to the mammals section, unlocking the door with her key. She called security and asked them to keep the day lighting on until she told them otherwise, but to keep the museum locked down. Then she called Andie, who was still at her desk.

"Is Jacobs still interviewing Kendel?" she asked Andie.

"Yes. I put them in your conference room."

"Okay, just checking. Call me on my cell if you need me," she said.

Diane led them through to a seating area in the Pleistocene room and they sat down near the giant sloth.

"Someone is interviewing Kendel," said Laura. "Is that about the Egyptian artifacts?"

"Yes. An FBI agent from the art theft division is here. That's why I don't have much time."

"Are they stolen?" whispered Laura.

Out of the corner of her eye, Diane thought she saw the flicker of a shadow near the flora around the Smilodon, the saber-toothed tiger, across the huge room. She stared a moment. Nothing. She was beginning to become frightened of shadows. Get a grip Get a grip, she told herself firmly and turned her attention back to her two friends.

"The artifacts aren't what we purchased. The FBI is looking into it. It's a long story and I'll brief you when I have more information and more time."

"Diane," said Vanessa, "you're angry, aren't you?"

"I'm just weary, Vanessa. And yes, I'm still angry with Madge and Barclay."

"Madge meant well," said Vanessa. "She just didn't understand the implications."

"Meant well . . ." Diane shook her head. "No one seems to understand the harm she did. This will follow Kendel and the museum forever. You can't get rid of accusations. Had Madge just referred the reporter to me rather than confirming something she had no idea was true or not, the museum could have come out of this looking like a hero rather than appearing as if it has something to hide. Did you see the paper today? Director backpedaling? I've done nothing of the kind. They just attributed Madge's recant as coming from me."

"What if the accusations against Kendel are true?" said Laura. "I know you don't want to consider that-"

"Of course I have to consider it. But whether or not they are true doesn't make what Madge did right. If Kendel turns out to be guilty it will just make matters worse because Madge's behavior will be reinforced, and the next time a reporter calls her they might be accusing Kenneth of illegal business practices, or me of embezzling, or you, Laura, of unethical conduct with patients. And Madge will just confirm whatever the reporter says because she likes her name in the paper and, after all, things turned out just swell the last time."

"Nothing like this is likely to happen again," said Laura.

"Why not? The reporter knows who to call to get a confirmation about anyone connected with the museum. Her duty is done. She checked out her story with an authoritative source and now she can print it," said Diane. "After all, Madge is a board member and an upstanding citizen."

Vanessa and Laura exchanged glances.

"We do see your point," said Vanessa. "And we really do see the harm that has been done by this. I'll do everything in my power to fix it."

Diane glanced at her watch again.

"I can see how this is upsetting," said Laura, "but-"

"Upsetting? Laura, I'm tired and my day isn't nearly over. Clymene O'Riley escaped from prison yesterday and the U.S. marshals are talking to me because I was her last visitor. Someone broke into my home and killed her on my living room floor last night. At least they had the good manners to drug me so I wouldn't wake up in the middle of it. While I was in the hospital examining room in one of those ghastly insufficient gowns with my bare b.u.t.t hardly covered, someone tried to kill me. I don't know if it had to do with Clymene or the artifacts. Riddmann tried to arrest me for Clymene's murder, but fortunately Garnett stepped in."

Diane took a deep breath. She had never been cross with either Laura or Vanessa before, but it felt good at the moment.

"Now, I find not only was I drugged," she continued, "but the FBI profiler I was with was probably drugged too. And it probably happened in the museum restaurant, because he fell asleep at the wheel of his car and had an accident on his way home from dinner here. Oh, and I can't move back into my apartment until the crime scene cleaners remove the two quarts of blood on the floor. Yes, Laura, it's all upsetting to me."

While she spoke, both Vanessa and Laura paled, their eyes wide and mouths open, speechless.

"Diane," said Vanessa at last, "I had no idea-the newspapers..."

"You can stay at my home," they both said simultaneously.

"Thank you, really. I appreciate your offers, but I'm staying with Frank. Now, Agent Jacobs is somewhere in the museum. I have to go." Her head actually felt clearer. Sometimes venting was a good thing.