One Grave Too Many (26 page)

“We’ll call it a day,” said Diane, standing up, observing the completed work. “You guys are doing a good job. Fast too.” She carefully walked among the grid squares, surveying the bone. All animal that she saw. A little easier than a pit of all humans, but it was death just the same. She didn’t think she could be a hunter. As she started to step out of the grids so they could cover the area with plastic for the night, she spotted the end of a bone just about to be uncovered. Diane walked over and squatted down beside the woman who was working on that square.

“See something?” the young woman asked.

“It’s been gnawed on by one of the canine family, but it’s the distal end of a human humerus—the end that fits with the radius and ulna, the bones of the forearm,” said Diane. She had expected to find an arm and perhaps a shoulder girdle close to the surface, since the original clavicle had made its way to the surface. She liked it when her expectations were met.

“Think the rest of him is close by?” asked the woman.

Diane shrugged. “Maybe. Or an animal could have separated the arm from the torso and dragged it here, or it may have percolated to the top.”

“Grim stuff,” she said.

“Yes, that’s the word for it.
Grim
.”

Diane went from the site to the museum to check the day’s activities before meeting Frank. Andie had left notes on her desk. Nothing urgent. She showered in her private bathroom off the conference room of her office. She slicked back her short wet hair, put on her minimalist makeup, and changed into denim pants, a black tee and maroon shirt jacket. It was good to feel clean.

There were more people in the museum after hours these days; the closer they got to the public opening, the more people stayed late. Her absence today reminded her that she needed to find an assistant director. She hadn’t liked any of the applications that had come across her desk and wasn’t sure she wanted to promote anyone in house.

She took the stairs to Jonas’ office. Inside, she studied his chessboard. She had started the game to make Jonas feel at home, and was surprised how much she enjoyed it. It had been a long time since she had played her last game with Gregory. He nearly always won, except that time she had beat him in forty-six moves. She moved her other knight to the bishop three position and left the office, locking it behind her, and went down to meet Frank.

The museum seemed to be looking gentler—not quite so harsh as her first images of it—perhaps due to the good work of the groundskeepers, who were constantly planting, landscaping and manicuring.

“Dr. Fallon.”

Diane turned from looking at the building to two girls coming up the steps—Emily, the cellist, and Lacy, the violist from the string quartet.

“Hello. You here to meet Melissa and Alix? Are they working late?”

“No. We came to see you,” said Emily.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” said Lacy, grabbing her friend’s arm.

“You want a job?” asked Diane, smiling at them. “We can always use energetic workers.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Emily. “It’s something else.” She looked up at the windows as if looking for a spy. “It’s kind of personal.”

“Would you like to go to my office?”

“That would be better.”

As Diane led them to her office, she called Frank and told him she would be running a little late. Entering her office from the private door, she led the two young women to her conference room. The stuffed sofa and chairs in the corner were more comfortable and less forbidding than her main office. She sat in one of the chairs and motioned for Emily and Lacy to sit on the sofa.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

“It’s about Melissa,” said Emily. She hesitated a moment, and Lacy interrupted.

“We’re friends with Mike Seger, her boyfriend, too.” She stopped a moment and took a breath. “This is really hard for us. We promised.”

“Go on.” Diane sat, waiting for a revelation. She couldn’t have been more shocked when it came.

“I know you think Mike is hitting Melissa,” said Emily. “He’s not. It’s Alix.”

Diane opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again. “Alix? I don’t understand. Did Mike tell you to say this?”

“No,” said Lacy. “He doesn’t know we’re here, and we don’t want him or anyone else to know.”

“Please explain it to me.”

“Melissa and Alix have known each other a long time. I think they were even in day care together. The two of us met them in first grade, so we know both of them well. Alix has a temper and she hits. She always has. She hit me once in second grade, and I knocked her down. She didn’t do it again.”

“That’s true,” said Lacy. “She tried to hit me too, and I slapped her face hard. If you fought back, she backed off.”

“All kids hit now and then,” said Diane.

“Yes,” said Emily, “but Alix was different. She always hit with her fists—or whatever she had in her hands—and she never grew out of it. She and Melissa have been best friends for a long time, and Melissa is totally loyal to her—and never fought back.”

“Are you saying it’s Alix causing the bruises on Melissa?”

“Yes. Her parents think she’s just clumsy. Mike thought it was her father until he saw Alix punch her hard in the arm. Melissa made us promise not to tell. She says it’s not Alix’s fault.”

Diane stood up and walked around her desk and looked at the two of them sitting side by side on the sofa. They looked sincere. “I’m having a hard time grasping this.”

“We thought you would. But it’s true. Alix will hit anyone who will put up with it. She even hits her boyfriend, Dylan.”

“Yes,” said Lacy, “Emily and I both saw how she bruised him. He’s crazy about her. I don’t know how she commands such loyalty. If I beat up on my boyfriend, he’d be out of here.”

“We didn’t want you to blame Mike, or we wouldn’t have said anything,” said Emily. “Something like this could hurt him. Not just with you, but with Dr. Lymon.”

“It’s true,” said Lacy. “If we were lying to protect him, we’d have come up with a more believable story. Look, we promised Melissa we wouldn’t ever tell.”

“So don’t tell anyone, please,” added Emily.

“The two of you are adults now, and you know that there are some promises you shouldn’t make.”

“I know, but we don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Alix really is nice. She’s quick to give you help with your music if you need it. You can count on her in a crisis, and most of the time she’s real sweet.”

“I won’t tell who told me, but I will mention this to a family friend of Melissa’s.”

Emily and Lacy looked at each other and back at Diane. “I suppose that’s all right.”

“It is all right. It’s not all right for Melissa to be abused by anyone, and it’s not right that innocent people be blamed. And if Alix is truly a nice person other than this, she needs counseling, not secrecy.”

Emily wrinkled her brow. “Does this mean you believe us or not?”

“I don’t disbelieve you. It’s just hard to wrap my brain around.”

“Well, I can understand that,” said Emily. “It is weird.”

Diane escorted them out of the museum and watched them get into their car. Alix? Could that possibly be true? She walked back to her office and called Laura.

“I find it hard to believe,” said Diane. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“It’s rare,” said Laura, “but not unheard of. Melissa’s obviously dependent on Alix and their friendship. You can’t tell me who told you?”

“No. And I don’t want to spread rumors either. I don’t know for sure if this is true, but the source seemed very sincere, and is in a position to know.”

“So you’re putting it all in my lap?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. How about lunch at the museum sometime? We’re opening the restaurant in a few days.”

“You’re on. What’s this I hear about you digging again? You found a body?”

“I’d prefer not to go into that right now. Where did you hear?”

“On the TV news. Something about the Abercrombie farm. I just caught the tail end of it. Wouldn’t have caught that, but your name jumped out at me.”

“Oh, great. I suppose Grayson and his bunch heard it too.”

“So what? I think it would be good for the museum to have a forensic anthropology unit.”

“Don’t even think it.”

“Talk to you later.”

Diane hoped this was the last of her involvement in the Melissa saga. As much as she wanted to stop any abuse, this was turning out to be an odd can of worms. She locked up her office and walked out of the museum just as Frank drove up.

“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Maybe we can have a late dinner after we see Star.”

“Maybe, but I need to get in bed early. I’m working two jobs now.”

“I appreciate that too.”

“I guess you heard we were on the TV news,” she said.

“What? You mean . . .”

“Digging at the Abercrombie farm,” she said.

Frank groaned. “We’ll have to ask the sheriff to double security around the clock. The place will be crawling with TV newspeople. It goes with the territory, I guess.”

Frank called the sheriff on his cell phone. The sheriff had already heard the news. Diane could hear his cursing coming from Frank’s phone.

On the way to the hospital, Diane explained what they had accomplished at the animal pit. “The last thing we found before shutting down was another human bone—an arm bone.”

“Another one? Are you sure?”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep asking if I’m sure. Yes, I do know the bones of the human skeleton.”

“I wasn’t doubting you. I’m just—surprised, I suppose. I’m still surprised at this whole thing—George, Louise, Jay. It still doesn’t seem possible.”

They parked in the visitors’ area at the hospital and entered the building. Diane didn’t like hospitals. She didn’t suppose many people do. She didn’t like the antiseptic smell, nor passing rooms where people lay sick with their relatives around them. On a primal level it was frightening, like a dark room or hanging your arms or legs off the bed at night. She saw Star’s room up ahead—the only one with a guard sitting outside the door. As they drew nearer, they heard a raised voice inside the room, apparently directed at Star.

“Don’t try this passive-aggressive shit with me, girl. It won’t work. I’ll let you sleep all night in your own urine.”

Frank shot ahead and entered the room before Diane. The guard, a policeman that looked to Diane like he might still be in high school, let him pass unchallenged. He stopped Diane.

“I’m with Frank Duncan,” said Diane.

He lay the book he was reading under his chair. “I’ll have to search your purse.”

“Sure.”

Diane opened her purse, which was basically a large billfold with a shoulder strap, and the policeman looked around in the zippered areas. Diane couldn’t imagine what kind of weapon he thought he would find in the small spaces.

“Have anything in your pockets?”

“Only this.”

Diane pulled out a small leather card case with her drivers license, one credit card, two fifty-dollar bills, and a small picture of Ariel. After spending years traveling, she developed a habit of carrying important identification on her person, not in a place that was easy to get separated from.

“That’s fine.” He motioned her in.

Inside, Frank was trying to find out what was going on. Star and a nurse’s aide were both talking at the same time. Star’s black hair, which was short in the family photograph, was almost to her shoulders and fringed on the ends. The blond streak that had framed her face was now a purple-fuchsia and had grown out to the ends. Her pixie face was as pale as the pillowcase, even in anger, and her dark brown eyes were made to look even larger by the dark circles underlining them. Star looked small in the hospital bed and pitiful with bandages on both her wrists, halfway up her forearms. Restraints on her upper arms fastened her to the bed.

“I rang for the nurse over an hour ago. You can’t tie me to the bed and leave me here without any bathroom breaks.”

The nurse’s aide, a woman in her mid-forties dressed in a stained white pantsuit, looked as if she were trying to stare Frank down.

She turned to Star. “There’s a lot of sick people on this floor. We don’t have time to run to you every five minutes.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to let her go to the bathroom than change her sheets?” Frank was having a hard time remaining calm and polite.

“She can hold it until we have time to get to it.”

The stubborn set of the woman’s face angered Diane. This was a health-care worker, for heaven’s sake.

“Are you aware,” said Diane, “that ‘holding it,’ as you put it, can lead to a bladder infection?”

“No worse than she deserves,” muttered the woman so low that Diane almost didn’t catch it.

Frank shot out of the room so suddenly that it startled even Diane. The woman looked at the door, then at Diane, a stubborn frown setting around her mouth. “Where’s he going?”