“I thought you might like a choice.”
She set the plates on the table. “Have a seat. I’ll get the coffee.”
“I brought coffee.”
“No, you didn’t.” She brought two mugs and filled them at the table from her pot of fresh brewed coffee.
Frank sat down and started eating. “You make the best eggs.”
“The secret is to not put milk in them, and to cook them slowly until they’re just done.”
“So how come you have so much more say-so than the board?”
“Do you know Vanessa Van Ross?”
“I know
Diane frowned at him. “I don’t know that, but she has money, and she and Milo had a thing.”
“She must be one hundred and twenty. He was what? Sixty?”
“He was sixty-five. What is it with you guys? You think women stop being someone you can love when they get crow’s-feet?”
“She’s got more than their feet.”
“She set up the foundation and gave Milo final power over practically everything.”
“So the board’s only show?”
“Almost. Milo hired me as an assistant while I was still in South America. He fixed it so that not only would I become director if anything happened to him, but all the power would pass to me as well.”
“Was he expecting to die?”
“No. But he had a heart condition. It obviously crossed his mind.”
“At least he knew it was a possibility.” Frank stared into his coffee.
Diane put a hand on his arm. So the gorilla was about to awaken. “How are you?” she asked.
Frank set his coffee down and capped the rim with his hand. The steam rose through his fingers. It was several moments before he spoke.
“Jay was just fourteen. They found him outside, lying under a tree-shot in the back. George and Louise were upstairs in their bed.”
She could see Frank was making a big effort to sound objective.
“Frank, I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t help but think it’s my fault. If I’d taken that bone more seriously.”
Diane rose, went around the table and started to hug him. Instead she put a hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. I know it must feel like it is, but it’s the murderer’s fault.” He grabbed her hand and held it. “What do you think happened?”
He pulled away, and Diane walked back to her seat. “I don’t know. I’m afraid the detective in charge seems to like their daughter, Star, for it. But as far as I can see, she has little evidence and isn’t likely to get any. But. . ”
“But what?”
“They did find the gun-or at least the caliber of gun they believe was the murder weapon.”
Diane sensed there was more. She reached out for his hand. “And?”
“They think it was Louise’s gun. George bought it for her several years ago. One of the policemen at the scene thought he recognized it because he gave Louise lessons with it. Last year, Star stole it and took it out to shoot it with her boyfriend. When George found out, he took it and locked it up and grounded Star.”
“Do you think their daughter could have done it?”
“She was a handful. Hell, that’s being kind. As soon as Star hit fourteen, she turned from this sweet little girl into this rebellious kid.” He took a drink of his coffee. “But it doesn’t feel right. I can’t see her killing her parents, and I sure can’t see her shooting Jay.”
“If she’s into drugs. . they can change you.”
“I know, but her little brother? I don’t think she’d do it. She adored him. The detective in charge is just taking the easy way out.”
“What about this boyfriend of hers?”
“They’re looking for him. He hasn’t been home in weeks. His parents don’t know where he is. Right now, it’s frustrating, being an Atlanta detective. I have no jurisdiction whatsoever even though I live in Rosewood, and the homicide guys refer to me as just a PC.”
“Politically correct?”
“Paper cop.”
“Oh.” She could see that hurt him. “What about the bone?”
“They don’t think it’s relevant, especially now that they know George just picked it up in some woods. It could have come from anywhere. Star looks much better to them.”
“One human bone’s still a body. It’s rather a large coincidence, them finding a human bone a few days before they get killed. I think it’s important.”
“And. .” He stopped, looked at her and frowned and looked away.
“And what?”
“And I don’t know. For some reason they don’t believe you.”
“You’re kidding. In that case, find another osteologist to look at the bone.”
“Would you write up a report on it? Please? In the meantime, I’ll send a photograph of it to a couple of other forensic anthropologists. They can ID it from a photo?” Diane nodded. “If Detective Warrick doesn’t want the information, I can give it to Star’s attorney when they find her.”
“Bring me the bone back and I’ll write a report.”
The museum looked big and empty after seeing it filled with people the evening before. Diane was glad the party was behind her as she walked through the rooms looking at each exhibit for any damage or forgotten cups of punch. The cleaning crew did a thorough job. Now it was time for the real task: getting the newly remodeled museum ready for the general public. The thought was uplifting. She felt good. New job, new clothes. She unconsciously smoothed the front of her navy blazer, briefly wondering if she looked like she was more accustomed to jeans and tees rather than the pantsuit and silk shirt she had on.
More of the staff started arriving, and Diane girded herself for a long day. Several faculty of Bartrum University were coming to claim offices in the museum. Her watch said it was only 9:15. She could get about thirty minutes of paperwork done while it was still relatively quiet. She met Andie in the hall on the way to her office, notebook and pen in hand.
“Great party, huh?” said Andie.
“Not bad. Most everyone seemed pleased with what they’re paying for. When did you get to bed?” Diane unlocked the door to her office and Andie followed her in and sat down in front of her desk.
“Didn’t. Some of us went out. We were all dressed up and didn’t want to waste it.”
Diane sighed. Gone were the days when she could stay up all night and not feel like she had a hangover the next morning. “Donald put the wrong plants in the exhibit.”
“I know. He said you need to learn how to save money. I didn’t want to tell you until after the party.”
“And he wonders why I don’t appoint him assistant director. Any other stuff you were waiting to tell me?”
“Yes. The rock woman and the bug guy are complaining that their offices are too small.”
“The geologist and the entomologist?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Rocks and bugs.”
“Their offices are off their respective exhibit rooms. I don’t think we can rearrange everything to suit them. Besides, they have offices on campus. They can make do.”
“I think they’re just bugged because the collection managers have larger offices.”
Diane rolled her eyes. “Anyone else?”
“The archaeologist wants to put in an exhibit on ancient Egypt.”
“What? She’s not even an Egyptologist.”
“Not she-he,” said Andie. “
“Jonas Briggs?”
