One Grave Less

Diane led the way to the huge room.
    “We are making progress with the rumor mill,” said Diane, “but we’ve got a lot of gaps to fill in.”
    Diane opened the doors to what looked like a ballroom. They hadn’t decided what exactly to do with it. A ballroom was one option. It would be great for fundraiser functions. It also would be a good area for a series of storage vaults, an idea that Diane liked. That was the thing about having such a large building—lots of options for what to do with the space. Right now it was a big empty room with very hard floors.
    “If you change your mind, we have these really cute bedrooms,” said Diane. “Each has a soft bed, a chair and desk, and nightstands.”
    “This will be fine,” said Lynn.
    Diane left Lynn to set up camp and walked back to the meeting room where she had left Frank and the others. He and David stood when she entered. Frank smiled at her and it actually made her heart ache. She smiled back and fought off tears.
    Stop it, Diane , she thought. Break down when this is over .
    “Izzy and Garnett went over to Colin Prehoda’s,” said David. “Someone ransacked his office and his home in the same manner your old apartment was tossed.”
    “Looking for that package,” said Diane.
    “Presumably,” said David. “On an optimistic note . . .” He handed her several photographs. “Supersoldier’s clothes yielded a lot of trace fibers. You’re looking at copper nanofibers from his socks. They’re pretty diagnostic, so if we can find a match at any of the crime scenes, we’re good.”
    Diane examined the microscopic image that looked like tangled string.
    “They aren’t that unusual,” she said. “I have several pair I use when I’m caving.”
    “Ah, but yours are of a different color. These are from a batch made especially for the military,” said David. “They have their own palette of colors—Desert Dune, Combat Black, among other nifty names.”
    “Military? Stolen, you think?” said Diane.
    “It’s what I’m thinking. I’ve got a call in. The next photographs are the most interesting.”
    Diane studied the next set of photographs of microscope images of what looked like honeycomb structures. She cocked an eyebrow at David.
    “What am I looking at? I’m not familiar with this kind of fiber.”
    “Cutting-edge stuff,” said David. “These boys have been shopping at high-tech places. These”—he pointed at the photographs—“are nanofibers that have been produced through the combination of polyurethane and high voltage. The result is a fabric that can trap toxic chemicals. Cool, huh? The company uses the fabric to make suits that protect from hazardous materials. Or at least, that is what they intend. It’s still in the experimental and testing stage. And I haven’t even begun to tell you about the lightweight Kevlar body armor he had on. These guys somehow got access to some high-powered military closet. It wouldn’t surprise me if some Men in Black arrived at the museum and demanded all the evidence.”
    “How top secret is it, if you know what it is?” said Diane.
    David looked at her as if she had insulted him.
    “Actually, some of the stuff isn’t all that secret, but it is experimental and restricted in its use,” David said.
    “This is good, David. Can we find out if the GBI found any of this trace on Madge Stewart’s clothing?” said Diane.
    He shook his head. “They haven’t,” he said. “Just normal fibers, they said. But what is normal, really?” He grinned.
    “I’ve often wondered that myself,” she said. “How is Charlotte coming?”
    “Still humming away. You know, if—”
    “No, there is no way we can afford a supercomputer. And if we could, what the hell do you need with that much computing power? Sometimes you scare me, David.” She gave him a lopsided smile.
    David and Frank grinned.
    “But he can get you smiling,” Frank said.
    “Charlotte has connected Ivan Santos with specific drug dealers and smugglers of endangered animals. But we already suspected he probably knew those kinds of people. She is still working on other levels of connections,” said David. “The weather is kind of interfering with her progress.”
    Diane looked up as Gregory came strolling into the room.
    “I got an e-mail just now,” Gregory said. “Apparently your phones are a little touch and go at the moment. It seems we have some good news. You are no longer an internationally wanted woman, and Cameron