Dead Secret

else around.”
    “A fifty-year-old mummy?”
    Mike blew his horn as he passed her on the road. He was a much faster driver than Diane.
    “Fifty, sixty, seventy. We don’t know the exact age. But his Moon Pie wrappers look pretty old.”
    Lynn laughed. “This isn’t a joke, is it? Did that Brewster Pilgrim tell you to call me?”
    “No, this is legit.”
    “Okay, send him over. You want your mummy stripped when I’m finished, I guess?”
    “Yes, please. And . . . thanks, Lynn.”
    “You tell Brewster that if this is a joke, payback’s a bitch.”
    It took about twenty minutes for Diane to deliver the body to the hospital morgue where Lynn worked, and another twenty minutes to check it in with the attendant on duty. By the time the mummy was safely inside his drawer Diane was more than ready to be in her small Rosewood apartment soaking in her large claw-footed tub.

    Just as Diane had anticipated, the bubble bath was soothing and relaxing. She would have preferred warm water, but with the bruises on her midsection, she opted for a cooler soak. She was leaning back in the tub when she heard Frank’s knock on the front door. He had a rhythmic knock he did with his knuckles before he let himself in with the key Diane had given him. And he always called out when he entered.
    “Diane, it’s me.”
    “I’m in the tub.”
    “That sounds nice. Let me put the food down and I’ll join you.”
    She smiled to herself as she heard him rattling around in the kitchen and then his footfalls coming toward the bathroom.
    “You look all relaxed. Hard day at the cave?” He sat on the edge of the tub and dipped his hand in the water. “A little cool. How long you been soaking?” He shook the bubbles off his sleeve.
    “I’m about ready to get out.”
    Frank Duncan was a detective in the Metro Atlanta Fraud and Computer Forensics Unit, where he investigated everything from white-collar and computer crimes to identity theft. They had dated before she went to South America to work for World Accord International looking for and excavating mass graves. When she returned to take over directorship of the museum, she had been surprised to discover that his blue-green eyes still made her quiver when his smile made them crinkle at the corners and sparkle—like they did now.
    “We have the rest of the evening and two full weeks,” he said.
    “I am so looking forward to being in a mountain cabin with you, and no dead bodies, blood spatter, or fussy board members.” Diane relaxed back in the tub, feeling content and peaceful in the cool water, glad Frank was here.
    “I brought some Thai food for dinner. Thought we could eat in the living room, look out your picture window, listen to music and . . . ” He let his words drift off as he sloshed the water back and forth with his hand. Diane sat up in the tub and smoothed the water out of her hair with her hands. Frank took the towel she had folded and laid on the counter and opened it up. “I can help.”
    Diane pulled the plug in the bathtub, stood up and reached for the towel. “Great, I’m in the mood to be waited on.”
    “Diane, what happened?” Frank held on to the towel as he stared at the blue bruise that covered the length of her left rib cage.
    “It’s nothing. I bumped into a wall in the cave.”
    “It’s not nothing, and you don’t get a bruise like that bumping into a wall.”
    “I was hanging on to a rope at the time—it was swinging. Look, it’s just a bruise. I get bruises all the time when I’m caving.”
    “I see you naked on a fairly regular basis and I have never seen you bruised up like this.”
    Diane grabbed at the towel. Frank wrapped it around her and helped her dry off.
    “There’s not much to tell, really.”
    “When you say there’s not much to tell, I know there’s a story lurking. What happened?”
    “I fell through some loose rocks . . . an ordinary caving mishap.”
    “Fell through some loose rocks, hanging on a rope? I’m not getting a picture of this. You are going to have to draw a little better.”
    Damn. Diane could see she was going to have to tell him. The last thing she wanted to hear from Frank tonight was a lecture on the dangers of caving. Noncavers just didn’t understand the allure of caves—and it wasn’t like she had accidents every weekend. “At least let me get dressed.”
    “Is that necessary?” He drew her close.

    Later, Diane, in faded jeans and a tee, sat on her sofa cross-legged, finishing