“Sure thing,” they all agreed and went back to work, muttering about the undesirability of having a car fall on you.
“Can I put my tire on now?” asked Mike.
“Yes. You’re a good sport, Mike. I appreciate all your help.”
“Anytime you need something really odd done, just give me a call.”
Diane carefully packed the skull and taped the box closed. She turned to Jonas. “Let me call the sheriff, and then I’ll beat you at chess.”
“You’re going to have to work hard to win. You’re in a bad situation.”
“That makes it interesting.”
The sheriff wasn’t convinced right away to investigate Dylan Houser.
“I know it’s a stretch, Sheriff. But bear with me. Both Dylan and the victim were in Harvard Business School together. There was a good chance they knew each other.”
“So did a lot of people. That’s a big school, and they may never have met.”
“I know. I don’t have anything in stone, but you could at least ask if he knew the guy.”
“I could do that. Do you have anything else?”
“Not a lot. I believe that whoever killed the Boone family was afraid that if the bones were found and identified, the identity would lead us to them. The only way that would be true is if it could be proved that the killer and the victim knew each other or had some association with each other. The fact that the bones were here in this county, all the way from Massachusetts, suggests that the victim may have been visiting someone he knew. If the killer was a random stranger, why would he care if the bones were identified or not?”
“I don’t have any quarrel with that, but it’s a long way from the Houser boy.”
“I know. Dylan was idolized by Jay Boone according to Star. He’s one person who could have lured Jay out of the house, even asked him to bring a gun to him. The person who killed Jay was taller than either Star or her boyfriend, Dean. He was about Dylan’s height.”
“Being tall isn’t rare among young men these days, even young men with a Harvard education,” he said.
“I know. George Boone may have hit his attacker with a bat. Dylan has a bruise.”
“How do you know?”
“I was told by someone who knows him,” said Diane.
“That’s something, but not much. He’s an active boy.”
“Whoever kidnaped me knew the skull was missing. It wasn’t a secret, but not many people knew. One of the people who was in a position to know was Dylan’s father.”
“Now, hold on here.”
“I know, Sheriff, but just listen. You can tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about later.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Jake Houser also knew that the bones had been there for several years. Not many people knew that either. And before you ask, that’s very tenuous. It’s based on a reaction he had.”
Diane explained about Janice Warrick not knowing how long the bones had been dumped, but Jake did.
“I know that’s very little, but why didn’t Warrick know? She’s been following everything I do, and Frank’s partner sent her the report on the bones. There’s a possibility that the report was intercepted so no one would query missing persons.”
“So you think Jake’s son, Dylan, for one reason or another killed this Kavanagh kid and dumped the body. George finds evidence of it, and he and his entire family have to be killed because any member might know where the bone came from. One thing led to another, and Dylan had to go after you and Frank to keep his secret. Jake found out and is trying to help his son cover everything up. Is that about it?”
“I know the whole argument leaves a lot to be desired. But what if Dylan was friends with Aidan Kavanagh, and Kavanagh just happened to disappear in his hometown?”
“I’ll grant you, flimsy though your argument is, it makes a kind of sense. But why go to all that trouble to kill the Boones when he could just deny knowing anything about Kavanagh?”
“I don’t know. That’s a good point. It might be that he’s going into a career where there can’t be a hint of scandal. Will you talk to Dylan?”
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll confirm first that they did go to the same school at the same time with the same major. That’s enough right there. As for the rest, well, we’ll see.”
“One last thing, Sheriff. When I was attacked the first time, I jerked one of my attacker’s fingers back really hard, left a bad bruise on one of his arms where I bit him and kicked his shins half a dozen times.”
“That ought to be pretty easy to spot,” he said. “You’re a damn tough woman.”
As Diane and Jonas sat playing their game of chess, she tried out her reasoning again with him. He looked as skeptical as the sheriff had sounded.
“I know it’s a terrible thing to accuse someone of anything they didn’t do, especially something so dreadful as a multiple murder.”
“I’m not saying your logic, as far as it goes, isn’t sound. But it’s the ‘as far as it goes’ part that’s troubling. You’re right. It’s very tenuous.”
“I know. There’s no proof. Do you want to resign?”
Jonas looked startled. “What?”
“You can’t win. I’ve got you beat in five moves.”
“Oh, you scared me. I thought this was a side of you I hadn’t seen. The woman who can’t handle disagreement.” He chuckled and scrutinized the chessboard.
“I don’t believe it. You’re right. There’s no way I can get out from under all the ways you have me pinned and forked. How did this happen?”
“When you fell for my queen sacrifice.”
Jonas met her gaze. “You are a devious woman.”
“I didn’t have a lot to do when I spent the night in the lake, so I worked out my chess strategy. Too bad I can’t apply that to this case.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I can. I need to call up the sheriff and ask him if he’s talked to the Housers yet.”
Chapter 50
Diane sat in her office looking over exhibit proposals. She’d sent Andie on an errand and told her to just go home after she was finished. Her hand shook as she took a sip of hot tea, and she almost jumped when the knock on the door finally came.
“Yes?”
Jake Houser stood in the doorway with his gaze on Diane. She took another sip of tea and forced herself to be steady.
“Jake. How’s Frank’s case going?”
“Dead end,” he said.
“You mentioned you may be quitting the museum. Are you here to resign?”
“Partly. It’s not working out for me here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Diane.
Jake sighed. “I did like it here.” He paused. “You had a daughter, I understand.”
“Yes. She was murdered.”
“A terrible thing. Our children are our heart. There’s just nothing we wouldn’t do for them.” He fingered the geode on her desk.
“Almost nothing,” Diane agreed. “Do you need a letter of recommendation?”
There was another knock on the door. Both of them started. Diane looked at her watch. “It’s getting a little late for visitors,” she mumbled. “Come in.”
Vanessa Van Ross, dressed in a white knit pantsuit that matched her hair, came into the room accompanied
