Scattered Graves by Beverly Connor Page A

was a police officer or a detective before he was recruited to work in the crime scene unit. Like any new broom, the new mayor had done a lot of sweeping. Diane was one of the people he’d swept out. In the wake, new people were hired. There were many in the police department now that she didn’t know.
Diane didn’t say anything either. She sat and waited, hoping it wouldn’t be too long. She ached all over, and her head throbbed where Delamore had hit her. She closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. She hoped that frustrated them—her not being able to see them stare at her.
The door suddenly opened, and Edgar Peeks, Mayor Jefferies’ new chief of police, burst into the room. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and almost a baby face, were it not for the day-old beard he seemed to always wear—perhaps because he had such a baby face.
He pulled up a chair and sat opposite Diane, glaring at her for several moments.
‘‘You are in a lot of trouble,’’ he said.
Diane said nothing; she simply gazed back at him thinking that, no, she wasn’t in trouble; the police de partment was—one of their officers just went berserk and tried to kill her.
‘‘Have you nothing to say?’’ he asked.
‘‘You haven’t asked a question,’’ said Diane. She was wondering why she was being treated as a perp instead of a victim. ‘‘I told the policeman on the scene what happened.’’
‘‘We’re not going to forget that you’re responsible for Harve’s death,’’ Pendleton said. He had his fists curled, like he wanted to fight.
Diane wondered how ‘‘not forgetting’’ was going to manifest itself. Were Delamore’s friends going to stalk her? Pull her over every time they saw her? What?
‘‘How do you think I am responsible?’’ she asked him.
‘‘He’s dead because of you,’’ said Pendleton.
‘‘How?’’ repeated Diane. ‘‘I tried to get away from him. He shot at me, beat my face in, tried to push me off the cliff, and tried to kill me with rocks and a knife. All the while, I was trying to get away. If you blame me because I wouldn’t die, then you need to seriously rethink your values. I’m sorry you lost a friend. Truly I am. But I did not push him or in any way entice him to follow me out onto the cliff. He did that all by himself in an effort to harm me. Now, I’m really too tired for this.’’
She started to rise.
‘‘You aren’t going anywhere,’’ said Peeks, ‘‘until we get some answers.’’
‘‘Then ask me questions,’’ she said. Diane put a hand on her throbbing head and closed her eyes for a second.
Peeks looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected co operation, as if he would have preferred to hammer some kind of confession out of her instead.
‘‘You said he was on the cliff when he fell. Why was he there?’’ asked Peeks.
‘‘He was there because I was. He was chasing me.’’ I thought we covered this , she thought.
‘‘On the side of the cliff? Are you saying you were running from him on the side of the cliff in Chulagee Gorge? See, that doesn’t make sense.’’ Peeks looked back at Curtis and Pendleton, who were standing be hind him near the wall. ‘‘Does that make sense to you guys?’’
‘‘It doesn’t make sense to me,’’ said Pendleton.
Diane was wondering if they thought she lured him out to the cliffs and threw him over the edge. Did they not remember how big he was compared to her?
Curtis said nothing, just stood smiling, as if he was enjoying himself. Actually, of the three of them, he looked the most friendly.
‘‘Why would you go there? Do you know how steep that cliff is?’’ said Peeks.
‘‘It’s a five point seven,’’ said Diane.
The three of them looked blank, startled, and clearly puzzled.
‘‘What?’’ Peeks said.
‘‘You asked me if I know how steep it is. I assume you were asking me about the degree of climbing dif ficulty. So, yes, I know.’’
Diane realized why they didn’t believe her story.