The Night Killer

nothing,” said Travis. “Right now, we’ve got our hands full with the murders. I told Daddy I was going to go get the things we needed to do the crime scene stuff ourselves. He probably thinks I’m in some ‘Crime Solving R Us’ store in Atlanta right now.”
    Travis fished out a digital camera from the pocket of his pants. “I did what you did at the Barre place. I took these pictures of the Watson murder scene.”
    Diane took the camera and removed the memory card.
    “Let’s go have a look at what you have here, and I’ll show you what I discovered at the Barre crime scene,” said Diane, rising from her chair.

Chapter 19
    Diane led the deputy from the office wing of the museum to the lobby to take the elevator up to the third floor. The lobby was buzzing with activity, a sight she was always relieved to see. Keeping the number of visitors to the museum high was a major concern that affected every decision she made. With no visitors, there would be no museum, no teaching of natural history, and no repository of artifacts.
    When one of the docents saw Diane, she came hurrying over from a small group of Japanese tourists who stood smiling and waving at her. Diane smiled and returned the wave.
    “Dr. Fallon,” said Emily, “the Maeda family’s here from Japan. They won the free trip to the museum. You know, the contest in the newspapers.”
    “They get newspapers from Georgia in Japan?” said Diane.
    “Who knew?” said Emily. “Anyway, they were wondering if they could have their picture made with you.”
    “Of course,” said Diane.
    She asked Travis to wait a moment while she had her picture taken with the family.
    “Take your time, ma’am,” he said. “I like watching all these people. This is a real interesting place you have here.”
    “Music to my ears,” she said as she went with Emily over to the family.
    Emily introduced her to the Maedas. They were a fairly large family, consisting of father and mother, one middle school-aged boy, two teenage girls, and an adult daughter with a husband and grandchild—all enthusiastic about their vacation plans. They were vacationing in the United States, touring museums and national parks in an RV. After RiverTrail, they were visiting the Smoky Mountains, and from there they were traveling to Washington, DC, and New York.
    “Very nice museum,” the father said. “Big building. Room to grow.”
    “Thank you,” said Diane. “All of us work very hard on our museum and love to see it enjoyed.”
    As she spoke with the family, Diane caught a glimpse of Andie talking to a visitor. She was hoping to see the guy Andie was with, but the view of him was blocked by the visitor they were having the conversation with. Diane did catch a glimpse of take-out bags he was holding by his side. Apparently they were going for a picnic.
    Diane didn’t let her attention linger, but remained focused on the guest family. She answered all their questions, posed for a photograph with the mammoth from the Pleistocene room as a backdrop, and told Emily to make sure the restaurant knew they were guests of the museum.
    “Thank you for visiting us,” she told them as Emily was about to guide them to the restaurant.
    Diane looked over at Andie and her date again as she walked to rejoin Travis Conrad. She saw what all the fuss was about. Andie’s new friend was striking in his good looks. He had a clean-cut appearance, short hair, firm jawline, and a bright smile. He wore tan slacks and a cream-colored shirt that looked expensive, and he had a muscular build—not overly done, but he looked like someone who was very athletic. Diane wished she could linger and meet him, glad Andie had found someone with an interest in museums. She hoped it worked out. Most of the guys Andie dated had no interest in her work, which was one reason they never lasted very long with her. Andie loved her work and she expected the guys she dated to show as much interest in her work as she did in theirs.
    Diane called the elevator and got on with Travis. No one else wanted to use it at the moment. Most of the visitors used the bank of elevators in the main hallway of the museum. Just as the doors were closing, a hand came through the opening and pushed the doors open again. It was Scott Spearman, one of the technicians in the DNA lab. He had a folder and a large padded envelope in his hand.
    “I was just coming to see you,” he said to Diane.
    She introduced Scott to Travis