Dead Hunt

until the real estate broker was shown to be a crook. But now she was forgiven. The mayor found her useful, and she got along well with Garnett, who was a good buffer between her and the rest of the powers in Rosewood. Today everything worked. In the back of her mind, though, Diane was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
At her stomach’s insistence Diane templating the fickle power structure and went down to eat lunch with her crime scene staff. The restaurant always provided such a pleasant respite. The murmur of the luncheon crowd today sounded soothing. Diane was greeted at the entrance by a waitress carrying vases of spring wildflowers to the tables.
Over a salmon salad Diane told Neva about the bones she was trying to identify of the little Ohio girl and asked Neva to find time to make drawings of her—not just her face, but of her standing.
Diane could describe for Neva how the girl would look with one leg a little shorter than the other. How she might rub her fractured forearms because they would hurt, how her eyes would look afraid, and how her face would show pain. Diane’s facial mapping software did a great job, but Neva’s drawings put life into the image. Diane didn’t want the little girl to get shoved aside because her justice wasn’t as urgent. It was urgent and it was important.
After lunch Diane checked in with Andie and started back up to the crime lab. In the lobby she met Kingsley coming through the door among a group of schoolkids rushing and screaming around him, their teacher calling for them to get in line.
‘‘Can’t stay away from the museum?’’ said Diane.
‘‘There’s just so much going on here.’’ He grinned at her. ‘‘I have some news.’’ He motioned to the lobby elevator. ‘‘Shall we go to the other side?’’ he said.
When the doors opened, before they could get on, a small kid of about five rushed past them and stood stopped conof Rosewood in the back of the elevator laughing. One of Diane’s docents, a young woman by the name of Emily, came in after him, grabbed him, put him under her arm, and hauled him out.
‘‘Emily,’’ said Diane, shocked at the way she handled the boy.
Emily turned and grinned at Diane. ‘‘It’s all right, he’s my brother. That’s our mother over there with the scowl on her face.’’
The kid giggled and tried to wiggle out of her grasp.
‘‘I’m going to feed you to the dinosaur,’’ she said.
He laughed harder.
‘‘And I think my job is tough,’’ said Kingsley.
Diane shook her head. ‘‘They sometimes run away and get lost in the museum. Drives the docents nuts.’’
Diane pushed the elevator button for the third floor.
‘‘I have some news too,’’ she said when the doors shut. ‘‘I’m not sure what I’ve told you, but we have information coming in a little faster now.’’
The doors opened and they got out on the overlook to the Pleistocene room.
‘‘Jacobs is very impressed with your museum,’’ said Kingsley, walking over and looking down at the mammoth. ‘‘He said he will be greatly disappointed if it turns out you are involved in buying and selling looted antiquities.’’
‘‘I would think by now he would have discovered that we aren’t,’’ said Diane.
‘‘He believes you’re an honest museum. He’s just cautious. Plus, he says he’s at a standstill.’’ Kingsley laughed. ‘‘He’s hoping Clymene did it.’’
‘‘Me too, at this point, but I really doubt it. All this seems a little too much for even Clymene to organize,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Of course, there are three of her.’’
‘‘Three Clymenes.’’ Kingsley laughed again. ‘‘Who would have thought it?’’
They walked through the exhibit preparation room and were stopped by Janine.
‘‘I don’t think we should have a dinosaur that poops kids,’’ she said with her hands on her hips.
Kingsley looked startled and laughed.
‘‘I didn’t think so either,’’ said Diane, ‘‘but talk to Emily Fellows and see what she thinks.’’
‘‘The docent?’’ said Janine.
‘‘Yes. The docents are around kids a lot.’’
‘‘You want to do it?’’ asked Janine.
‘‘Not necessarily. I think it’s a ridiculous idea, but then, I’m not five. I’ll leave it up to you,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I’ll talk to her.’’ Janine shook her head and walked away.
‘‘Do I want to know what that was about?’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘Museum stuff.’’
They stopped once more so he