Dead Hunt

said Diane. ‘‘David, this is Agent Ross Kingsley.’’
‘‘The profiler,’’ said David. ‘‘I remember.’’
‘‘Were you able to charm Madge Stewart?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘I’m sure she thinks we’re dating,’’ said David. ‘‘But, the reason I sought you out is about Golden Antiquities.’’
‘‘That’s where Kendel acquired the artifacts,’’ Diane said to Kingsley.
‘‘It burned down last night,’’ said David. ‘‘The owner, Randal Cunningham, was killed in the fire.’’
Diane stared at him for several moments. ‘‘Are you serious?’’ she said.
David nodded. ‘‘Dead serious.’’
‘‘Do they know what happened?’’ asked Kingsley.
David shook his head. ‘‘Not that I was able to find out.’’
Diane started to speak when she saw two more men in dark suits approaching. Kingsley and David followed her gaze.
‘‘Not FBI,’’ whispered Kingsley. ‘‘I know my kind.’’
David seemed to slump down in his seat.
‘‘Diane Fallon?’’ asked one of the men, who looked to be in his late thirties and a lifetime weightlifter with no sense of humor.
‘‘Yes,’’ she began.
‘‘Are you Agent Kingsley?’’ the man interrupted. ‘‘We need to speak with you too.’’
Kingsley raised his eyebrows.
‘‘We are federal marshals...’’
Federal marshals didn’t worry about antiquities, thought Diane. They worried about fugitives.
Well, shit.

Chapter 13
    Diane, Kingsley, and the two well-dressed deputy marshals sat at the round oak table in the conference room of Diane’s museum office suite. Deputy Marshal Chad Merrick was the larger of the two. He was easily six five, Diane guessed. He had neatly trimmed light brown hair, amber eyes, a broad, plain face, and flawless skin that any woman would envy. Deputy Marshal Dylan Drew was a good five inches shorter than his partner, which put him at six feet—still taller than both Diane and Kingsley. Drew had a shaved head, sharp features, a dark umber skin tone, and hazel eyes—an interesting face. Both men were focused.
    ‘‘Clymene O’Riley escaped from Greysfort Prison shortly after your visit,’’ said Deputy Marshal Dylan Drew. There was enough expression in his stony stare to convey the impression that he might think Diane had something to do with it.
    Diane and Kingsley both sat dumfounded, even though Diane had an inkling of what their presence might mean as soon as she learned they were U.S. Marshals. That was because Clymene was the one thing she, Kingsley, and U.S. Marshals might have in common. But it was still a surprise to hear it stated as real.
    Kingsley found his voice first. ‘‘How did she escape?’’
Drew glanced over to Merrick, who nodded, and back to Kingsley. ‘‘As nearly as we can tell at this point in the investigation, she feigned illness and was taken to the infirmary, which is outside the maximum security section. From there the picture is a little hazy, but prison staff thinks she escaped on a delivery truck.’’
‘‘That seems rather common,’’ said Kingsley. ‘‘I would have thought prisons have pretty much blocked that escape route by now. How was she not detected?’’
‘‘They have not been able to establish that,’’ said Drew. He turned his attention to Diane. ‘‘According to prison records, you were her last visitor. Why were you there?’’
‘‘She asked me to visit her,’’ said Diane.
‘‘And you just dropped everything and obliged?’’ asked Drew.
‘‘No, not at all,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I asked her to go,’’ interjected Kingsley.
‘‘You’re the FBI profiler?’’ said Merrick as if profilers were the academics of the law enforcement world, and who knew what silly things they might be up to.
Kingsley nodded.
‘‘What did she want to see you about?’’ Merrick asked Diane.
Diane told them about the content of the letter and repeated her conversation with Clymene for the second time that day. The marshals took notes and listened with interest and what looked like a good deal of skepticism.
‘‘And you didn’t think it suspicious that she claimed to be motivated by concern for one of her guards?’’ asked Merrick. The look on his broad, fair face plainly said he did not believe that could be her real motive.
‘‘It didn’t matter,’’ said Diane. ‘‘She could have wanted to tell me the warden was possessed by aliens and it wouldn’t have mattered. It was a rare opportunity to see what she had to