The Night Killer

It and gold are heavy and they settle out together in streams, and the magnetite is more plentiful and easier to spot.”
    He moved his fingers over the sand, looking.
    “Here we go.”
    They stood around Mike so they could see what he was pointing to.
    “I don’t see anything,” said Neva.
    “Here, that tiny flake. That’s gold.”
    “That’s it?” said Neva.
    “That’s pretty good,” said Mike, “for just one handful of sand. Panning for gold is labor-intensive.” He dropped the sand on the bank of the creek and dusted off his hands.
    “How sad,” said Neva. “Do you think they thought all this was gold?”
    “Probably,” said Mike. “Unless they were rock hounds too.”
    They looked inquiringly at Liam.
    “They probably thought it was gold,” Liam said. “Life was a fantasy to Larken, and Bruce was sure he was going to find a treasure.”
    They took the evidence back with them to the primary site. Somehow the couple’s deaths seemed all the sadder to think they were chasing windmills.
    Diane went home with Frank to shower and change clothes. Her muscles ached from fighting with the drunkards in Conrad’s jail the day before. She dressed in an emerald green blouse and gray linen trousers with a matching jacket.
    “You look beautiful,” said Frank.
    “I feel clean,” she said. “I’m not much either for running around in the thickets.”
    “My grandmother used to wash herself down with kerosene after going blackberry picking,” said Frank.
    Diane wrinkled her nose. “Seems like that would be harmful,” she said.
    “She lived to be eighty-six. I don’t know if she would have lived longer if she hadn’t doused herself with kerosene every summer.”
    Diane put her arms around him. He smelled fresh and clean. “What are you going to be doing the rest of the day?” she asked.
    “I’m going to check on what Gil Mathews is up to. He’s a good friend but the GBI likes to take the lead on cases they’re involved in, and I’d like to make sure my division gets its due. You got something better in mind?”
    “Yeah, I do, but I have to get back to the museum. I thought maybe we could have a late date tonight here at home—maybe dinner and a movie,” she said.
    Frank embraced her tighter. “I like it when you call this home. That sounds like a terrific idea. I’ll bring food back and a movie.” He held her at arm’s length and looked at her. “You all right?”
    “I’m fine. I’m still angry about what Conrad did to me. Do you know how many instances of that behavior I investigated in other countries? And it happened here. I wonder what else he’s done in his little fiefdom. I’m glad the GBI is working so fast,” she said.
    “They have been looking at him for quite a while, according to Gil. Intimidation is a big part of the way Conrad defines his job. Don’t take this to heart, but the GBI is kind of glad he did what he did to someone who has clout and credibility. It gives them a lot of ammunition,” he said.
    “I can see their point, but . . .” She let the thought trail off.
    Frank pulled her back to him. “I’ll give you a call when I can get away,” he said.
    “Me too,” Diane said.
    Diane went to her museum office. First thing she wanted to do was call Lynn Webber. Diane had just sent her two bodies without asking her or giving her a heads-up.
    Andie was in her office sporting Diane’s Vitruvian Man T-shirt. The tee was parchment color with a dark brown image of the page out of Leonardo da Vinci’s journal and highlighted with a special pale burnt-orange glitter.
    “How does it look?” said Andie.
    “Great,” said Diane. “I really like it.”
    “I put one in your office. I think these T-shirts are going to be popular. I hope so, anyway. I like them a lot,” said Andie. “How are you doing?”
    “I’m fine,” said Diane. “I’ll be in my office. I have to make a few calls.”
    Diane went to her office and sat down behind her desk and dialed Lynn Webber’s number.

Chapter 50
    Hector answered the phone at the Rosewood morgue. That was a relief to Diane. She had asked the GBI agent taking the bodies to the morgue to request that Lynn Webber call Hector and Scott and have them come and take tissue samples. That meant the agent had remembered, Lynn had made the call, Hector and Scott were there, and the autopsies were probably in progress.
    “This is Diane Fallon, Hector. Is Dr. Webber available?”
    “Oh, hi, Dr. Fallon. She’s kind of