Dead Guilty

‘‘Hey.’’ Frank came in and gave her a peck on her lips. ‘‘How you doing?’’

‘‘I’m glad to be having a break.’’

‘‘You look tired.’’

‘‘I’ve had a string of long days.’’

‘‘Sit down, relax. I’ll get you a drink of wine.’’ ‘‘Can I have one?’’ Star was being mischievous. ‘‘No,’’ said Frank.

Star laughed.

Diane kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her on the stuffed sofa. Star lay sideways across an overstuffed armchair.

‘‘You can stay here some time,’’ Star said. ‘‘You and Uncle Frank don’t have to just get together when I’m out of the house.’’

‘‘We’re together now.’’

‘‘You know what I mean.’’

‘‘We’re doing fine, Star.’’

‘‘The two of you are so old-fashioned.’’

‘‘Are we?’’

‘‘I’m almost grown, you know.’’

‘‘I think almost is the operative word.’’

Frank came in with a glass of red wine for Diane. ‘‘We’re having Chinese tonight. How does that sound?’’

‘‘Great. It’s nice just to relax. How has your day been?’’

‘‘Slow. We’re working on some identity thefts, and they are always tedious to track down. Unfortunately, we often don’t track them down. Feel like eating?’’

As Diane suspected, Frank had the dining room table spread with enough food to feed the whole neighborhood. It was a compulsive habit of his— always buying more food than anyone could possibly eat. He always said he liked everyone to have a choice. She helped herself to fried rice, Mongolian chicken and steamed vegetables.

‘‘Want chopsticks?’’ asked Star.

‘‘Fork will be fine,’’ said Diane. ‘‘How’s school?’’

‘‘Boring. So, tell me about the mummy.’’

Diane repeated everything they knew about the mummy so far. She included the Victorian pickle jar. Star almost fell out of her seat laughing.

‘‘I’ve been talking to Star about going to college,’’ said Frank.

‘‘I really don’t want to. I mean, I’ll just have to take a bunch of dumb courses and stay bored to death for four years.’’

‘‘You could take something you like.’’

‘‘I like to listen to music and go to the movies. Do they have courses in that?’’

‘‘They have music, and I think they have a course or two in film.’’

‘‘Don’t you have to take a bunch of English and math?’’

‘‘Yes. You could learn to enjoy English and math.’’

Star looked at Diane like she’d grown a horn out of her forehead. ‘‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’’

‘‘No. Just think about what the courses do for you. What you’ll learn.’’

‘‘Yeah, like when am I ever going to use math?’’

‘‘I use it all the time, analyzing skeletons, exercising, cooking, working on the museum budget, hiring staff, balancing my checkbook. Most jobs require some math.’’

‘‘Not all—hardly any.’’

Frank sat back eating his Chinese food, listening to Diane and Star have their conversation. Diane guessed that he and Star had repeated this same conversation many times.

‘‘Why don’t you give college a try for a year?’’ said Diane.

Star made a face like she’d suddenly bitten into something rotten.

‘‘I’ll tell you what. Try it for a year and keep at least a two point seven grade point average, and with Frank’s permission, I’ll take you to Paris and buy you new clothes.’’

Star’s eyes grew wide. ‘‘Are you kidding? I mean, you’re not just saying that just to keep the conversa tion going?’’

‘‘No. I’m not just saying it. I mean it.’’

‘‘Like a whole new wardrobe?’’

‘‘Yes. I’ll have get used to life without an arm and a leg, but yeah, I’m talking about a lot of new