Star cried and pulled at the restraints. Diane stroked her hair as the nurse gave her the shot.

"This will take effect pretty quickly," she said.

"Will you find out for me?" said Star. "Go see him and tell him not to die."

"I will. I'll go right now. I know it's hard, but try to stay calm. The shot the nurse gave you will help."

Diane left the room, sweeping past the guard at Star's door who was reading his Western. She resisted the urge to pull it out of his hands and toss it down the corridor.

The nurse at the front desk downstairs told her that Frank was in surgery and gave her directions to the waiting room. When she got there, Izzy Wallace and his partner were already there.

"How is he?" she asked.

"We don't know. He's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"What happened?"

"He'd just taken some money out of the ATM outside the hospital and was leaving, when this black guy came up, shot him and took his wallet."

Diane looked at Izzy in amazement. "Frank and I are certainly having a run of bad luck, aren't we?"

"We have witnesses to what happened." Izzy sounded defensive. He didn't like Diane, and she didn't care.

"What did the witnesses say?"

Izzy hesitated a moment, as though thinking whether he should give her information.

"A black guy in a cap and dreadlocks came up to within about ten feet of Frank and pulled out a gun and shot him just as he was putting his money in his wallet. The perp grabbed the wallet off the ground and ran. He got lost in the dark. It happened quickly. Two people saw it-well, three, but one was a little girl, a little black girl."

The way Izzy said a little black girl a little black girl made Diane suspicious. "What did she say?" made Diane suspicious. "What did she say?"

"Well, naturally, she didn't want it to be a black person. That's understandable. She was just a kid."

"So she said the perp wasn't black?" Diane prodded. She was going to have to pull this out of him.

"She gave a similar description-black skin, dreadlocks, but she said he wasn't really black." He shook his head. "She was only about nine years old. What would she say? Look, I need to ask you-now, don't get mad, but I have to ask. The guy who works for you at the museum. We met him when we were there. He fits the description. Do you know if he has something against Frank?"

"Who?" asked Diane. "Do you have a name?" She knew who, but was going to make him say it.

"He was in the lab, the one he said got broken into."

The one he said got broken into. d.a.m.n you, Izzy. As much as she wanted to, Diane didn't voice her thoughts. As much as she wanted to, Diane didn't voice her thoughts. If I didn't need information from you, I'd tell you where you can put that tiny brain of yours. If I didn't need information from you, I'd tell you where you can put that tiny brain of yours.

"Korey, the head conservator?" said Diane. "He hardly knows Frank, and Korey has impeccable credentials. He doesn't rob ATMs."

"I had to ask. He does fit the description."

One good thing about talking to Izzy; the adrenaline rush his conversation gave her was helping with the shakes.

A doctor came out of the swinging doors toward Izzy. Diane held her breath.

"A bullet grazed his heart, and another pierced his lung. He's fortunate he was at the hospital when it happened. Time is everything in cases like this. The surgery went well. We'll know something more in the next twenty-four hours."

"Doc, you haven't told me anything," said Izzy.

The edges of the doctor's mouth twitched slightly upward. "I've told you what I know. I'm cautiously hopeful."

Diane hung on to cautiously hopeful. cautiously hopeful. That's what she would tell Star. That's what she would tell Star.

"I need to see Star," she said to Izzy when the doctor left. "She's so hysterical they had to give her a sedative. While I'm gone, I'd like you to consider all the coincidences here. George Boone finds a human bone-and before you say anything, I can tell a human bone from a deer bone. We've since found three human bones at a site where George and his son visited a week before they brought the clavicle to Frank. Right after it's known that George has this bone, the whole family is murdered. A week later, as I start investigating, I'm attacked outside my home. The next day Frank is shot. Do the math."

Diane turned and left for the elevator to go to Star's room. A nurse in green surgical scrubs writing something on a pad at the desk turned and laid a hand on Diane's arm. "That was Dr. Sampson. He came to us from Grady in Atlanta. We're very lucky he moved his family here. Your guy's in good hands."

Diane smiled and thanked her. She was a pretty woman in her mid-thirties with a smart twinkle in her eyes and she was good with people. Diane felt instantly better. Grady Hospital has one of the finest trauma units in the country-thanks in part to the frequent gunshot victims they get through their doors.

She found Star groggy, fighting the sedative. Stubborn little girl. Diane stroked her hair.

"Star." Her eyes popped open. "Frank came through surgery fine. The doctor believes that he will be all right." She had put a more positive spin on the doctor's words.

"Are you sure?" she managed to say.

"That's what the doctor said. One of the nurses told me that he is an expert in trauma cases. That means Frank has the best of care."

Star sighed and seemed to breathe easier. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Will you stay a while?"

"Sure."

Diane pulled up a chair beside Star's bed and almost drifted off to sleep in it. She didn't leave until the rising and falling of the sheet covering Star was smooth and regular.

She rose quietly and went back down to Frank's floor. Izzy was still there, but his partner was gone. Jake Houser was there talking with Izzy and two men, dressed in suits, that Diane didn't recognize.

"Dr. Fallon. This is just terrible," said Jake. "They put me on the case, and I want you to know we'll get the sc.u.mbag who did this. It means I won't be showing up at the museum for a while. . . ."

Diane nodded. She didn't feel like going into lecture mode again. Frank had a lot of confidence in Jake, so maybe it was good he was on the case. Jake introduced her to the two men standing with them-Frank's boss and his partner from Atlanta. Both were somber and looked like they were at a funeral. She wanted to kick them. She couldn't seem to shake her irritable mood.

"Frank's told us a lot about you," his partner said. "I'm glad to meet you. Frank's tough. I'm sure he's going to pull through this."

"I think he'll be just fine," she said, trying to believe her own words. That's what they wanted to hear too. No small talk, just Frank's going to pull through. Frank's going to pull through.

"Oh," said Izzy. "We found this in the bushes." He handed her her cell phone. "No sign of your purse."

"Thanks. I imagine it's in a gutter somewhere."

After that exchange, Diane had to explain what had happened to her. The two Atlanta detectives were surprised at the coincidence. Maybe they would give Izzy a nudge, she hoped.

She excused herself and went to the nurses' station to ask if she could see Frank when he was awake.

"Are you a relative?"

"No, a friend."

"I'm sorry, only family members are allowed. His wife is with him now." The nurse was curt, and she started to turn her back on Diane.

"He doesn't have a wife," said Diane.

The nurse stopped and stared at Diane with sparkling black eyes.

"That is probably his ex-wife," continued Diane. "They've been divorced for five years, and she's been remarried for five years. However, they have a son who needs to hear how his father is doing. So it's a good thing for her to see for herself. There's also a little girl upstairs whose whole family has been murdered. Frank is her guardian, and she needs to hear how he's doing. If she had been responsible for what happened to her family, Frank wouldn't be lying in there now."

"Are you Diane?" asked another nurse who had been openly listening to Diane's diatribe.

"Yes."

"He's been asking for you. He's pretty insistent. I think the doctor will allow you to see him." She eyed the first nurse as she spoke.

"If the doctor says so . . ."

Cindy Reynolds came through the double doors from the recovery rooms, and the first nurse frowned at her. Cindy didn't notice. She headed for Diane, and the way her eyes were tearing up, it frightened her.

"How is he?" asked Diane, afraid of the answer.

"He looks so pale. But the nurse says he's doing well under the circ.u.mstances."

"And Kevin?"

"He doesn't know yet. He's at my mother's. I didn't want to say anything to him until I . . . I had to see for myself."

"Of course. Star's just terrified."

"That poor child. If anything happens to Frank, it'll be as bad on her as it will on Kevin-worse, in a way. Kevin has family who love him. Star's all alone." Cindy took a breath and bit her lip. "Let me know how he's doing." She dug in her purse and pulled out a card. "Here's my cell phone."

"If there's any change, I'll call."

All animosity that Cindy may have been harboring from their last encounter had evaporated. At least that was one good thing-Diane couldn't handle any more verbal sparring.

She had to wait another hour before she could get in to see Frank. She was tired, and all the adrenaline that had been keeping her pain-free was dissipating and her back was throbbing, as were several muscles that weren't hurting before.

When one of the nurses told her she could see him, she hoped she didn't look like she was on her last legs.

Cindy hadn't exaggerated when she said Frank looked pale. He was so white he could have been dead. Diane held the door frame so she wouldn't fall.

"He's doing much better now," said the nurse. "I've had a chance to work with him for a couple of hours now, and his blood pressure is up to normal. So is his temperature. You're Diane, right? He's been asking for you."

Diane came over to his side and took his hand. It was cold. "Frank, it's me, Diane."

His eyes opened slightly and she thought she saw him attempt a smile. He gave her hand a weak squeeze.

"Don't try to talk. I've seen Star. She's worried, but I told her you're going to be fine. When I leave here I'll go back up and tell her I've seen you."

He nodded his head. "You?" he whispered.

"I'm doing great. Healing up just fine."

"Liar," he whispered.

"Don't try to talk anymore. Just get well. That's an order from Star."

His lips turned upward and he closed his eyes. She looked at the nurse.

"He's fine," she a.s.sured Diane. "He's going to be in and out of it. I'll keep him alive. It's what they pay me for."

"Please," she said and squeezed his hand before she left.

She felt she should feel better than she did, but he looked so weak, and the last time she saw him he was so strong. She put a smile on her face and went into Star's room. She was still asleep. Diane sat in a chair and watched her. It was a comfortable chair, and they both needed the rest. She leaned back and went to sleep, not waking up until she heard her name whispered. It was Star, awake and looking at her.

"Uncle Frank. Have you seen him? How is he?"

"I saw him"-she looked at her watch-"an hour ago. He's doing fine. Very weak, but recovering."

"He's not going to die?"

"No." Diane hoped that was true.

Tears welled up in Star's eyes and trickled down the sides of her face. "I don't know what I would have done."

"You don't worry about that now. Get well yourself."

"I'm sorry I was mean to you."

"Don't worry about that either."

"Why did this happen to him? Is it because of me?"

"Because of you? No. This isn't your fault. The police think it was a robbery. He was getting money out of the ATM."

"Yeah, a robbery. First you, and now Frank. Like I believe that was coincidence."

"Neither do I. But don't think about any of that. It would make him feel really good if he came in to see you getting better. Concentrate on that."

Diane left Star dozing and went down to see if she could find Izzy. She caught him as he was going out the door.

"Any more news about Frank?" she asked.

"He's in critical condition. That's all they'll say. How did he look to you?"

"Very pale and weak, but the nurse said he was doing well. I'd like to take her word on it. Izzy, will you give me the name of the little girl who witnessed the shooting?"

"Now, you know I can't do that."