Part 3 (1/2)

Director Diane Fallon Not Available for Comment.

Diane grabbed the paper and stood in the store reading it, oblivious to customers squeezing past her to get out the door.

”Son of a b.i.t.c.h,” she muttered under her breath, then paid for the paper, walked out, and got into her car, slamming the door.

Carrying the newspaper rolled up like a club, Diane entered the museum. There weren't any visitors in the lobby at the moment, but a tour was going on just beyond in the Pleistocene room. The voice of the docent telling a group of j.a.panese visitors about mammoths drifted into the lobby. A blond young woman wearing a white Richard III T-s.h.i.+rt sat at the information desk talking with a lanky, dark-haired young male docent in a matching T. Amber and Hunter, Diane noted mentally. She made it a point to remember the names of all her employees.

”Dr. Fallon,” Amber called as Diane walked by. Diane stopped. ”Yes.”

Amber spotted the paper in Diane's hand. ”I guess you've seen that,” she said.

Diane noticed that Amber had a copy of the newspaper just below the desktop. Undoubtedly she and Hunter had been discussing it. Their eyes stayed fixed earnestly on her.

”Yes, I've seen it,” said Diane.

”It's not-” Amber began.

”No,” said Diane, ”it's not true.”

”I told you,” she said to Hunter before turning back to Diane. ”There's a man from the FBI looking for you. I directed him to your office. I didn't know what else to do with him.”

Diane could see the worry in both their faces. ”What is his name?” asked Diane.

”Kingsley. Ross Kingsley.” Amber enunciated his name carefully. ”He doesn't look like he is from the FBI. Don't they always have short hair?”

”He had a beard too,” offered Hunter, as if maybe the guy claiming to be from the FBI was an imposter, possibly a reporter.

”It's not about the museum,” said Diane.

She watched them both relax as they realized it had something to do with the crime lab on the upper floor of the west wing. The museum staff called that part of the building the dark side and they called all things relating to the crime lab dark matters. She could see they had just mentally filed Ross Kingsley under dark matter.

”If any reporters come by, call Andie. Don't send them into the office,” said Diane.

”Oh, we wouldn't do that,” said Amber. The two shook their heads in unison.

Diane walked to her museum office. Her heels clicked on the s.h.i.+ny granite floor, almost keeping time with her rapid heart rate. The brief interaction with her employees hadn't mediated any of her anger and she was glad. Right now she wanted to be angry. She went through the large double doors and down the hall to her office.

Mike Seeger, the geology curator, was there entertaining Andie and Ross Kingsley with tales of his latest adventures in searching out extremophiles. Mike and Andie were wearing the same style T-s.h.i.+rts as Amber and Hunter. Mike greeted her with a wide grin. Andie was frowning.

Kingsley stood and nodded a greeting to Diane. He looked more like a history professor than an FBI profiler in his vest and suit. He started to speak but Andie got there first.

”Dr. Fallon,” said Andie and paused as she saw the rolled-up newspaper in Diane's hand. ”You've seen the article.”

Diane nodded.

”Diane. I was hoping you could spare me a few minutes,” said Kingsley quickly.

”I'm sorry, Ross. I have a board meeting in a few minutes. It will have to wait until after that.” Diane turned to Mike. ”If you have time, will you show Agent Kingsley around the museum?”

”Sure...” began Mike.

The telephone rang. Diane imagined that all Andie had been able to do all day was answer the telephone.

”Excuse me, Dr. Fallon,” said Andie. ”It's the DA.

insists on speaking He's called several times. He with you.”

”He insists? Tell him unless his arm out of its socket and beat him with the b.l.o.o.d.y end of it, he'll wait until I have time to call him.” ”Ooookay,” said Andie. She took the DA off hold.

”Sir, Dr. Fallon can't be disturbed. She'll call you just as soon as she has a chance.” Andie doodled with her pen as she listened. Her springy auburn hair bounced as she nodded into the phone. ”I know, sir, but she is in a board meeting. It's likely to last a while, but she will return your call.”

There was another pause and Diane could hear the DA's voice but not his words. Just as well, Just as well, she thought. ”No, I'm sorry. I can't pa.s.s a note to her. That she thought. ”No, I'm sorry. I can't pa.s.s a note to her. That would disturb the meeting and I can't do that. She will call. I prom- He hung up on me,” she said, holding the receiver out for all to see.

”Andie, ask Kendel to come to my office,” said Diane.

”I don't think I've ever seen this side of you,” said Kingsley. ”I'll be glad to wait until after your meeting.” He grinned at her, rubbing his shoulder. ”But can you give me a hint about what Clymene wanted?” Diane had started into her office, but she turned to he wants me to jerk him. ”Clymene is afraid that one of her guards has married someone like herself.” Diane turned to her office without looking back.

”Okay, now, you can't drop a bomb like that and leave,” he shouted after her.

Diane was already in her office and closing her door. She turned off the water fountain on her desk.

Normally she liked the sound of the water running over the stones, but today it was annoying. She should have gotten a jump start on this situation when she read the first article. But she had been knee-deep in other things and Kendel had a.s.sured her there was nothing to it.

After a moment Kendel opened the rear door to Diane's office and quietly slipped in. She was dressed in a navy pinstriped suit and a pink s.h.i.+rt. Her brown hair, usually in some kind of twist, was down, just touching her shoulders. Her eyes were red and she looked tired. Her usual countenance, the tough-asbra.s.s a.s.sistant director, was absent. Kendel was scared. Diane motioned for her to sit down. ”Diane, I know I told you the other day that this was nothing-”

The phone rang and Diane picked it up. ”I'm sorry to disturb you,” said Andie. ”It's the Journal-Const.i.tution. Do you want to speak with them?”

”Thank you, Andie. Put them through.”

She waited on the phone, frowning. This was just the beginning. Kendel sat staring at the photograph of Diane hanging suspended from a rope inside a dark cavern. Diane wondered if that was how Kendel felt, like someone dangling at the end of a rope. ”Diane Fallon?” said the voice on the other end of the phone. ”I'm Sh.e.l.l Sidney from the Atlanta Atlanta Journal-Const.i.tution.”

Diane wondered if the reporter's name was really Sidney Sh.e.l.l and she had reversed it in order to have more gravitas.

”I've been trying to reach you in regard to the stolen antiquities.”

”Stolen antiquities?” said Diane.

The reporter hesitated a beat. ”The stolen antiquities that have been in the news. One of your own board members stated that Miss Williams, the-ah- a.s.sistant director, has been fired for purchasing antiquities that she knew were looted. What do you have to say about that?”

Chapter 7.

”Your information is incorrect,” said Diane. ”Which part of the story are you saying is incor rect?” The reporter asked.

”All of it. The entire story is no more than a collection of allegations, innuendo, and rumor,” said Diane in what she hoped was a calm voice.

”What about your board member's statement?”