Dead Secret

protecting. It’s history and learning, a repository of good things that should not be lost or destroyed.”
    “Please spare me. Are you trying to flatter me into believing that this job has some real merit?”
    “No. I suppose I’m trying to save you. Is this what you want your kids to remember you by?”
    That may not have been the right thing to say either. From the hardening of his face, she saw that she had hit a nerve.
    “I told you I’m doing it to help my children. They wouldn’t have known about this if you hadn’t figured out my plan.”
    “What, did you think you would steal the evidence, turn it over to the Taggarts, collect your money and it would all just be forgotten? We’d have figured it out sooner or later. It’s what we do.”
    “So you know who it is,” he said.
    Her suspicion had been confirmed again, but naming the Taggarts was probably a mistake, she thought.
    “They were right; they figured there might be something that points to them.”
    “They told you about their involvement in the murders?”
    “Not much. Just enough. They were probably confident that I would accept their offer. Desperation has a smell all its own.”
    I ought to be getting ripe then, thought Diane. If I keep him talking long enough, won’t someone eventually come looking for me? He’s not going to let me go.
    “Is there any way I can buy myself out of this? What if I paid you more than the Taggarts are paying you?”
    “They offered me”—he shook his head as if amazed by their offer—“a lot of money. I told them that they should offer the money to the museum, that you’d probably take it. I told them everyone knows you’re devoted to the museum.”
    “Really? What did they say?”
    Diane wondered if it would do any good to ease away in some direction. He would just track her with the gun and it would probably make him nervous. She didn’t want that—a nervous trigger finger. In the back of her mind she thought she knew that Glocks didn’t go off with a nervous shake; it took a deliberate action. But she didn’t really know that much about guns.
    Shit, what am I going to do? She couldn’t think of anything. She felt sweat running from her hairline down her forehead. Sweat stung her armpits. She had to concentrate to keep her breathing normal.
    “They said they sized you up at that old gal’s funeral and decided you wouldn’t go for it.”
    “Really,” Diane said again. “What was it they saw that caused them to make such a major decision in so short a time?”
    “I don’t know. Now, will you tell me where you moved the evidence? Is it your idea that you can keep me talking until help arrives? All your help is outside and, frankly, your crime scene people aren’t up to it.”
    She could see in his eyes and his body tension that he was approaching a decision point, and it didn’t look like a change of heart, but she kept trying. A man who loved his children must still have a soft spot somewhere inside. Maybe just soft enough to let her off the hook if she could offer him what he really wanted.
    “I was hoping to offer you more money. That way you could save your reputation, get rich, I’d keep my evidence and we’d all be happy.”
    “You don’t have that kind of money. We’re talking about a lot.”
    “I have access to a lot of resources. I know people with a lot of money. Isn’t your reputation worth at least thinking about it?”
    “You know, Dr. Fallon, I wish I believed you, because I would like to take you up on your offer. It does appeal to me, but there’s just no way that can work out. Once I leave here, all deals are off. I know that, and so do you.” He waved the gun at her. “Now quit stalling and tell me where you moved the evidence.”
    Diane said nothing.
    “Okay, let’s look in your vault. Open it up,” he said, advancing on her.
    Diane started for the vault. “Can we at least turn on the lights?”
    “I tried. They’re out.”
    “Out? Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I’m sure. Quit stalling.”
    Diane was confused. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light, so it wasn’t really a problem, but the night lighting shouldn’t be on at this time. She wondered if it was that way all over the museum. She wondered if it was a harbinger of a fire to come—someone tampering with the electricity. Diane punched the first three codes into the door security pad.
    “Don’t burn down the museum.” She felt her voice crack as she spoke. “You don’t have