Dead Secret

alarm that there was blood on Mike’s face.
    “You’re bleeding,” she said, pointing to the corresponding spot on her own face. “You sure you’re okay?”
    Mike pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his chin and looked at the small smear of blood. “This is nothing. I’ve had worse spills. . . . Hell, I’ve had worse cuts shaving. You said you found some more tunnels at the end of this main one? Why don’t we have a look before we go back?”
    Diane hesitated. “Sure, it won’t take long.” She led the way toward the end of the main tunnel.
    “It’s not dangerous, is it?” Mike quipped.
    Diane’s radio squawked.
    “I heard a noise; is everything all right?” It was Neva.
    “We’re fine,” said Diane. “Just a little rockfall in one of the offshoot tunnels. No damage done. Is everything okay there?”
    “Yup. I’m almost done.”
    Diane felt a pang of guilt. She’d left Neva to search the entire chamber by herself.
    As if sensing her guilt, Mike laughed and said, “Neva’s really having a good time. Nothing like a nice big cavern to knock around in for a while to get your confidence back. Neva loves caves but is still a little scared of them, with good reason—she had a really close call.”
    Diane winced as she thought of how close Neva came to dying in this very cave system.
    “I think having something focused to do is helping her get over her fears,” said Mike. “Her eye for detail is amazing. The girl must have been a killer on an Easter-egg hunt. Of course, if you found that tiny button among all these rocks, you weren’t too shabby either. What is it about you crime scene types? Got some kind of locator gene?”
    “It’s all in knowing how to look—and also luck.” Diane pointed to the split end of the tunnel. “I’d like to explore those passages the next time we come,” she said. The two openings looked like huge dark eyes staring unblinkingly at them as they approached.
    “The high road and the low road,” said Mike as they stood next to the openings.
    Diane noticed that, like her, he was drawn to the one that led down. He stepped through the entrance and looked down. Diane stood behind him, very still, listening.
    “You hear that?” said Mike.
    “I thought I heard something when I was here before. You hear it too?”
    “Like flowing water, maybe? It’s hard to say.” He grinned at her. “Interesting.”
    “I’d like to investigate, but I don’t want to leave Neva alone any longer.”
    “No. But we can come back next weekend,” said Mike. “What do you say?”
    “I’m leaving for a two-week vacation in the mountains tomorrow. How about in three weeks? Can you wait that long?”
    “Doc, I can wait for you forever.” Mike grinned. “But we’re going to have a little problem with MacGregor. He can’t get though the squeeze, and right now I can’t see an alternate route to the cavern.”
    Diane stepped back out into the main passage. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe more members of the caving club can join us and we can split up and look for another entrance to the cave system.”
    “Good idea. There must be another way in.”
    As they walked back to the cavern, Diane kept an eye out along the way for any clue that might have been left behind by their mummy friend. She saw nothing. But it was only luck that she had found the button. There were thousands of rocks littering the tunnel from one end to the other that could be hiding something.
    They rounded the last bend and came in sight of the cavern. Neva’s lights illuminated the cavern, casting the large stalagmites and stalactites in a dim, shadowy golden glow. Diane stopped a moment to look.
    “Breathtaking,” said Mike.
    “It’s one of the reasons I love caves,” said Diane. “So many gorgeous views.”
    They walked to the opening, and Diane climbed down the wall first. It took her several minutes to get back down. Mike, more experienced at rock climbing, made the descent in less than half the time.
    “A button,” said Neva, holding the bag and peering at the silver disk. “David will be happy with this. Did you know he’s constructing a button-recognition database?”
    Mike raised his eyebrows. The expression on his face was obvious: He was wondering if maybe David had too much time on his hands.
    “David lives for databases,” Diane said.
    “And recognition algorithms,” added Neva.
    “But buttons?” said Mike.
    “Well, we have a button that needs