Dead Guilty

Diane.
‘‘Will do.’’ The black man smiled at Diane. ‘‘Pete and I always give our guest a good ride. Don’t we, Pete?’’
‘‘You bet. We’ve never had any complaints.’’ The two of them laughed.
Lynn left, telling Diane she wouldn’t be getting to the autopsy until the afternoon, so Diane could come then and retrieve the ropes.
Whit stayed until the body was removed and Lynn was gone. Diane walked him to the door.
‘‘I had a talk with his girlfriend before letting her go home,’’ said Whit, leaning close to Diane and speaking low, though only she and her crew were in the house.
‘‘She said there’s usually a key under the mat. It was on the desk when she got here. I asked her if anything was missing that she could see. She said she thought his laptop was gone. He usually keeps it on the desk along with a DVD player.’’
Whit pointed to a pine table against the wall flanked by two speakers. The table was empty, but the dust pattern showed that something had sat there.
Diane looked around the room for any other ghosts of missing objects. It was a sparse room with walls painted the color of sand. The furniture consisted of a brown futon couch and two chairs, one stuffed and slipcovered in brown corduroy, the other a canebacked rocker. The coffee table was a large roughhewn cross-section of a tree trunk with glass covering the top. The some-assembly-required computer desk sat against one wall.
On the wall opposite the couch, a tall bookcase held a television and books on forestry and stacks of Na tional Geographic . Beside it was the table where the DVD player had sat. The hardwood floors were bare.
‘‘Jin took the girlfriend’s—Kacie Beck’s—fingerprints before she left. She was very cooperative,’’ he said.
Diane nodded. Whit’s dark eyes looked sympathetic as he took a final look toward the bedroom.
‘‘Young guy.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘I’m not sure why I ran for this office. I’m thinking of bowing out the next election.’’
‘‘Working with murder is certainly wearing on men tal health,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Sometimes it seems like peo ple have become so used to it, they’ve lost their perspective on the horror of it.’’
‘‘Dad thinks it’s movies and television, but I don’t know what it is.’’ He shook his head again as if to shake the thoughts from his mind. ‘‘Tell Frank I said hello.’’
Frank, thought Diane. He’s due back from San Francisco. She wondered if she’d ever have time to see him again. She wondered if she’d ever have time to get back to the museum again. She sighed as Whit went out the door.
Neva came marching up the steps just as Whit drove away. She stopped in front of Diane. Diane had seen her drive up and waited for her on the porch.
‘‘I heard it on the scanner. Were you going to call me?’’
‘‘No. I try not to overload new people with death the first week on the job.’’
‘‘I can handle it.’’
‘‘It wasn’t aimed at you. It’s just my policy. How ever, I’m glad you’re here. It’s going to be a long night, and I fear we may have another crime scene soon.’’
Diane assigned Neva the kitchen. ‘‘Jin’s taking fin gerprints. David’s taking photographs, and you and I are doing evidence searches. Start with the back door. We believe he entered through the front door. He may have left through the back.’’
Neva nodded. ‘‘Vic let him in?’’
‘‘Probably got the key from under the mat. The victim may have been in the shower. He’s one of the guys who found the hanging victims in the woods.’’
Neva’s eyes widened. ‘‘Oh, my God. What’s going on?’’
‘‘I don’t know. Hopefully, by the time we finish, we’ll have enough evidence to at least know if they are connected.’’
‘‘They have to be connected, don’t they?’’
‘‘Coincidences do happen.’’
‘‘Yeah, but . . .’’ Neva glanced into the bedroom, where Jin and David were working. ‘‘This is some coincidence.’’
Diane began a spiral search of the living room be ginning at the tree trunk coffee table. As she worked, the house made noises. Beyond the creaking of the floors and the sound of wind against the windows, the refrigerator turned on and off; so did the airconditioning. Things that were normal now seemed odd, almost ghostly, with Chris Edwards dead. Some one should tell the house that it can rest now, Diane thought as the refrigerator once again came on.
Jin came from the