The Night Killer

translated to money and to style of life. She could see people fighting over land and its use. She had seen the kind of changes in a community that could result from land development, and how those changes might be unbearable to some—especially a profound change, like going from a quiet, secluded rural area to a busy tourist town. It seemed even more likely a motive because the Watsons, who were spearheading the development campaign, were also killed.
    Travis had said something about a dispute over the property line between Slick Massey and the Barres. That held possibilities. If Massey thought he was being cheated by the Barres, Diane could see him committing murder. But what motive would he have to kill the Watsons?
    All in all, land showed much more promise as a motive than did religion.
    Diane wrote down, Unknown motive , in her notebook. She had nothing to put under it, of course. Still, that category nagged at her as being most likely. Since nothing made sense, there was something missing.
    She went back to the cigar box again. Was the box of old childhood trinkets important, or just a souvenir for the killer? Was there something in it that had more meaning than was evident? Were the contents valuable?
    Diane slipped the small notebook into her purse. Before she left she turned to her computer and called up a template of a form and filled it in, and she gave Dr. Lynn Webber, Rosewood’s ME, a call. That tended to, she shut down her computer and left by way of Andie’s office.
    Sierra was still sitting at Andie’s desk.
    “Aren’t you going home tonight?” asked Diane.
    “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything before I left.”
    Diane smiled at her. “If you wait on me, you’re likely to be here all night.” She told Sierra she had done a good job relieving Andie today, and received a broad, very white-toothed smile in return.
    “I don’t mind extra work,” Sierra said. “Anytime you need me for something, I’m willing.”
    Diane smiled at her. “How fast do you read?”
    If Sierra thought that an odd question, she didn’t show it.
    “Unfortunately, I’m slow. I mean, I remember everything; I’m just not a speed- reader. But you know, up in Archives, Mikaela Donovan and Fisher Teague both read really fast.”
    “Really? Thank you, Sierra. That’s extremely helpful,” said Diane.
    That elicited a smile that almost blinded Diane.
    Sierra rose from behind Andie’s desk, straightened the objects on it, looked at it wistfully, and started collecting her things.
    “If you are willing, there are often projects to work on. Andie is working on the webcam project for schools.
    I have a whole in-box full of project proposals from curators and exhibit planners. If I come across one that I would like to follow up on, I’ll let you help with it.”
    “That would be just great,” said Sierra. “I would love that. Thanks, Dr. Fallon.”
    The two of them walked down the hall together. It was getting late but the night lighting hadn’t yet come on in the museum and they still had visitors leaving. Soon the museum itself would close, but the central hallway with its own entrance would stay open for people eating at the restaurant and those who wanted to shop at the museum store, which was where Sierra was going, saying she wanted to buy one of the new T-shirts for her younger sister if the dinosaur tees had arrived.
    Diane drove to Rosewood Hospital and rode the elevator up to the critical-care unit’s waiting room. She paused at the door and scanned the room, looking for the Barres, finally spotting Christina and Spence sitting on a sofa against the wall near a window. She held a file folder under her arm with the forms she had printed out.

Chapter 28
    Critical care’s waiting area was a comfortable room with thick carpet and soft sofas and chairs, all in shades of sea green and blue. A giant painting of a stylized ocean in the same colors hung on one wall. All in all, a soothing room.
    Christina and Spence were sipping their cups of coffee, not talking, simply waiting for the next time they could go in and see their brother. Spence looked up first, then Christina. Each smiled wanly at Diane as she approached. Spence stood and looked grateful for something to do. Diane understood the emotional pressure they were under. Waiting for news was hard and tiring.
    “I came to see how Roy Jr. is doing,” said Diane.
    “He’s had a craniotomy,” said