Let's Play Dead by Sheila Connolly

no idea how it could have happened. He told me everything had been thoroughly checked.”
    Detective Hrivnak changed topics abruptly. “What’s Heffernan’s reputation like?”
    Did that mean my part in the investigation of Joe’s death was over? “You mean in the arts community?” When she nodded, I went on. “I’ve never heard anyone say a bad word about her. Let’s Play means everything to her, and I think she’s done a great job keeping it child friendly. It must be a temptation these days to throw in trendy electronic games and such, but she’s kept the exhibits and the programs simple and educational at the same time. I admire her. I like her, too.” I took a deep breath. “Was the wiring tampered with, with the intent to do harm?”
    “That’s the question, isn’t it? You got any ideas?”
    That was a surprise: she was asking me for my opinion? “Me? No. Since two different people working there were hurt, it doesn’t seem likely that it was specifically directed toward either of them. Heck, I could have been the one to touch the weasel, as easily as Jason or Joe. Or maybe somebody assumed that Arabella would do the honors. Or maybe it was someone who was willing to hurt any random person, even a child, just to do harm to the place. But for the life of me I can’t see why anyone would want to.”
    “Uh-huh,” Detective Hrivnak said noncommittally. She stood up abruptly. “Thanks for coming by.”
    Apparently the meeting was over. I felt deflated. I’m not sure what my talk could have added to the detective’s information, other than confirming the time line she already had. I’d never pretended to have any piercing insights into what had happened, or why, or how. Was it even possible to rig up a major electrical shock that would act selectively? Definitely not my area of expertise.
    I made my way back to the Society in a distracted mood, stopping to pick up a sandwich and coffee along the way. Eric was seated at his desk when I walked in, a neat stack of pink phone messages lined up in front of him.
    He gave me a big grin. “So they didn’t arrest you?”
    “No, not even close. Did you get out to eat?”
    “Sure did. But I wanted to be here when you came back.”
    “Trying to impress the boss? You’re doing a fine job—keep it up. I’ll take those messages. Anything urgent I need to deal with?”
    “No, ma’am. Everything’s under control.”
    I had my doubts, but I didn’t want to disillusion him. I retreated to my office to return some phone calls.
    Latoya appeared at two, and I gestured to her to sit. “You wanted to talk to me?”
    She nodded. “Yes. I thought I’d let things shake out for a bit, but now I feel we need to talk.”
    “I agree. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, but it’s been a rocky transition. And an unusual one, given the circumstances. But then, you know that.” I was curious as to why she had asked for this meeting. I hoped it wasn’t to tell me that she was leaving—I didn’t want to have to try to replace a senior position at the moment.
    As if reading my thoughts, she said, “I’m not quitting, if that’s what you think.” She gave me a perfunctory smile. “I know I haven’t been very good at communicating with you in the past, and I want that to change.”
    I nodded. “I appreciate your saying that, because, frankly, I need you. But only if you want to be here. Things are difficult right now, but I want to know that you’re totally committed to working through this.”
    “I am. What I really wanted to do was update you on what’s happening with Alfred’s position.”
    Alfred Findley had been the Society’s registrar, which meant that he’d been in charge of keeping track of what we had and where we had last stowed it, which was not an easy job. His death had thrown us all for a loop, and I’d been praying that he had left his computer records in a form that someone else—either his former boss Latoya, or a new hire—could