Dead Hunt

you to know that was a wholly inappropriate message you left on the Estate Attorneys Listserv. That list is for discussing professional issues. It is not there to do your job for you.’’
    ‘‘Excuse me, and you are?’’ said Diane. Disappointment stung her throat. She thought it was the first hit in the search for Clymene. It was someone else who wanted to scold her.
    ‘‘I’m Attorney Emma T. Lorimer, and I want to know what right you have to plaster this woman’s photograph all over the Web saying she’s a criminal.’’
    ‘‘She is a criminal,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Has she been convicted?’’
‘‘Did you read the message? Yes, she has. Convicted, imprisoned for murder, and now she’s escaped from prison. This is a dangerous woman who preys on wealthy families. Do you know her?’’ said Diane. ‘‘No, I don’t know her. I called because I am incensed that you would use a private list in this way.’’
    It was strange to Diane that someone would take the time to call her about what they felt was an unauthorized e-mail. There had to be something else going on.
    ‘‘The woman who is now going by the name Clymene O’Riley is very adept at getting people to trust her. Do you know who she is?’’
    ‘‘No. Why do you keep asking me?’’
‘‘Because you took the time to call. I appreciate your championing the innocent. There are more innocents accused of crimes than people realize, but this woman is not one of them. Do you know her or someone who looks like her? Her sisters look very much like her.’’
‘‘For the last time, no, I don’t know her. I’m just infuriated that you would spam my list and fill my mailbox with crap like this. It isn’t what estate law is about.’’
‘‘I didn’t spam the list. I asked permission from the list owner,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Well, he used bad judgment in granting it.’’
‘‘Maybe he just wanted to protect your clients from a predator.’’
‘‘Just don’t do it again.’’
The phone went dead with a loud click.
‘‘Well, hell,’’ said Diane.
Diane Googled Emma T. Lorimer to discover where she was from. She found an address for her in Richmond, Virginia. This was probably just someone with a strong sense of political correctness, but she also may be someone who recognized Clymene’s photo. Diane copied the information from her screen.
She walked back over to the board meeting. Not that she wanted to interact with them again, but she had rather rushed out on them. They were still there, arguing about putting a letter to the editor in the newspaper.
‘‘What do you think?’’ Harvey asked Diane. ‘‘We were thinking a little letter might reassure some of our contributors.’’
‘‘I think it might be more reassuring to write to each contributor personally and let them know we’re investigating. When we know more, we can write a public letter.’’
‘‘Well, we agree on something,’’ said Barclay. ‘‘I’ve been telling them you have to watch what you say publicly.’’
‘‘On that note, then,’’ said Harvey, grinning, ‘‘why don’t we all leave while we’re ahead?’’
‘‘I’ll write a letter and send it to each contributor,’’ said Diane. She was happy too, to have some common ground with Barclay.
Vanessa talked Diane into having dinner with her, Laura, and Harvey in the museum restaurant. It was a pleasant meal, mainly because they didn’t talk about any problems. As Diane rose to leave, Vanessa put a hand on her arm.
‘‘Is all this about me?’’ Vanessa asked. ‘‘Is someone trying to hurt me through the museum?’’
‘‘I don’t know,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Riddmann was trying to get at you, but my source tells me he isn’t behind the artifact problem. He was just taking advantage of it.’’
‘‘I’ve made a lot of people mad in my time,’’ said Vanessa.
‘‘We all have,’’ said Harvey.
‘‘It could be me,’’ said Diane, ‘‘or Kendel, or Jonas for that matter. He’s the curator of the archaeology section. It’s probably something completely different. Whatever it is, I will find out.’’
Diane went up to the osteology office and phoned Deputy Marshal Merrick. She got his voice mail. She explained that it was probably nothing, but Attorney Emma Lorimer might know Clymene. She gave him the details and repeated that it was probably nothing— just a feeling on her part.
It was still early and she had done all she could for the moment