Dead Past

continued Kendel. “The effect of my work would have much less impact at a really big museum. The geology collection here is already one of the best in the Southeast and it keeps growing. On each of Mike’s excursions he sends back a unique selection of rock and mineral specimens and their petro-genesis. More and more of Bartram’s graduate students in geology are coming to the museum to use our reference collection in their research. I’ve been working closely with the Geology Department on their exhibits. They’re one of our strengths.”
    Diane knew that was true. The geology exhibits alone had raised the museum’s ranking in the eyes of neighboring universities.
    “I’m pleased to hear that you’re happy here. I just want you to feel free to consider options when the headhunters come to you.”
    “Not a problem. That’s another thing, they can’t offer me the freedom I have here. Another quality I like about this museum is the lack of politics—and that’s mainly your influence. I can concentrate on the collections and not constantly worry about sensitive egos and political agendas. Other museums aren’t like that. This is a good place.”
    RiverTrail was indeed a good place. Diane counted it as one of her major jobs as director to keep it always a good place.
    Kendel was summoned back to her office for some pressing matter, and Diane went to her other job—the one in the crime lab—for a different kind of pressing matter.
    “We have the autopsy reports for Blake Stanton and Marcus McNair,” said Neva.
    “Bring them to my osteology office,” said Diane, as she passed through. Even though she was more relaxed taking a hands-off approach to the investigations, she had had enough. It was not in her nature to avoid the thick of things.
    Neva, David, and Jin followed on her heels. When Diane sat behind her desk, Neva handed her all the reports, including crime scene and autopsy photos.
    Diane started with McNair’s autopsy report. The cause of death was the gunshot to the head. He might have survived the hit to the chest. She flipped through the photographs of the scene. It was strange seeing McNair lying dead—the smirk finally gone from his face, permanently and forever wiped away.
    She searched for the autopsy photos of McNair and Stanton, the head wounds in particular. She laid them side by side. Both bodies had a similarly sized hole in the middle of their forehead. McNair’s had a large inflamed area around the wound. Neither had powder tattooing. Rankin noted the lack of tattooing, but made no conclusions. Rankin rarely went beyond what he knew.
    “Did I hear you guys say the detective in charge thinks all shots were fired at a distance?” asked Diane.
    “Yes,” said Neva.
    “Rosewood detectives don’t get much experience with bullet wounds made by a gun with a silencer,” said Diane. “And since no one in either scene heard anything, I believe a silencer was used.”
    Diane turned the photos around so they could see them. “Look at McNair’s. The detective thought it was not a contact wound because of the lack of tattooing. But you often don’t get tattooing with a silencer. This red ring is the muzzle imprint. Notice that it’s erythematous—red and inflamed looking—and not abraded, as the muzzle imprint of a gun without a silencer would be. If we find the silencer, it will probably have the victim’s tissue inside it.”
    Neva picked up the photograph and examined it. Jin looked over her shoulder. David hung back. Examining autopsy photos was not his favorite thing to do.
    “If you look at Blake’s wound,” said Diane, “there’s no stippling or muzzle imprint. He was shot from a distance. The bullet was found in his head—which may mean that considerable energy was lost before impact—also a factor with silencers, but that doesn’t prove a silencer was used. It’s just suggestive.”
    “So what do you make of it?” asked Neva.
    “McNair’s murder was personal. The shooter hits him in the knee first. That hurts. Then they shoot him in the chest, and for good measure they come right up to him and shoot him in the head point-blank.”
    “It sounds personal to me,” said Jin.
    “It was also someone who knew his schedule,” said David. “You would have to know McNair or shadow him for a while to know his habits.”
    Diane agreed. “With Blake Stanton,” she said, “it wasn’t as personal—or maybe the shooter couldn’t get any closer.” Diane