Dead Secret

Gregory had the sort of low, throaty laugh that made you want to laugh along with him.
    “You don’t say. A real Egyptian mummy. You’ll have to send pictures. Marguerite loves mummies.”
    “I will. He was unwrapped, but we managed to get our hands on the amulets that were in his original wrappings. Our Web site has pictures. I’ll e-mail you the URL.”
    “Your museum is the reason I called. I’m afraid I volunteered you to a friend. I hope you don’t mind.”
    “Volunteered me?”
    “Your expertise. He’s sending you the bones of a witch.”

Chapter 7
    “The bones of a witch?” said Diane. “Did I hear you right, Gregory?”
    Frank lifted his brow, gave her that okay-this-is-interesting look of his, took her other foot and began kneading tender spots on the bottom of it.
    “Perhaps I should have said the bones of an alleged witch. This is going to take a bit of explaining.”
    “I’m all ears.”
    “There’s a charming little museum here in Dorset we like to visit with the boys. It’s really more like the old cabinet of curiosities. It’s housed in this charming sixteenth-century cottage. John Rose is the proprietor. He’s collected a lot of odd bits of the cultural and natural history from around here. I think he barely makes a living at it. One of his main attractions is a skeleton called the Moonhater witch.”
    “Moonhater witch?” Diane raised her eyebrows at Frank and he returned a quizzical look of his own.
    “Legend has it that the skeleton was found in Moonhater Cave—the name, I believe, refers to smugglers. Anyway, the stories say the witch was killed by a young man. Seems he stabbed her with some sort of magical sword, but not before the witch had turned his bride into a pillar of salt.”
    “Fascinating story, but I won’t be able to tell him if she was a witch.” She grinned at Frank, who, from his knitted brow and upturned lips, was anxious to hear the other end of the conversation. She retrieved her foot and leaned her back against him before the faces he was making caused her to burst out laughing.
    Gregory chuckled. “I don’t think he expects that. John doesn’t believe in witches. Legends aside, he would like to know something about his skeleton.”
    “I’ll be glad to look at the bones. But tell me, there are plenty of forensic anthropologists in the UK; why—”
    “Is he sending it across the ocean? That’s where the story gets a little more bizarre.”
    “It gets more bizarre?”
    Frank began massaging her shoulders and neck. He is really is good at this, thought Diane as she moved her shoulders under his grip.
    “There are two other parties interested in possessing the bones. One party is the owner of Moonhater Cave. It is one of several caves in the area that are tourist attractions. It has the pillar of the unfortunate girl.”
    “The pillar of salt she turned into? It’s in the cave?”
    Frank stopped and turned so that he could see her face. His eyes twinkled the way they did when he was about to hear the punch line of a joke. Diane smiled at him and pointed to her shoulders. He rolled his eyes and resumed kneading her muscles.
    “Yes. It’s actually a rather large column formation that had the good or bad luck, depending on your perspective, to have a vague resemblance to a woman. The image has been enhanced by the creative use of a chisel and sandpaper. Whoever it was did quite a good job, actually—subtle, made good use of the natural form of the stone for her flowing gown.”
    “And the cave owner wants the bones back to go with his statue.”
    “Yes. Sort of keep the family together.”
    “Who’s the other party?” asked Diane.
    “A handful of Druids or Wiccans. Marguerite tells me there’s a difference, but I don’t know what it is. They claim the bones are of an ancestor. Of course, given that they found a descendent of nine-thousand-year-old Cheddar Man, that very well could be true.”
    “Cheddar Man was found somewhere near you, wasn’t he?”
    “Close. In Somerset, actually, in Cheddar. Somerset also has a cave with a statue of sorts, only this one is of a witch who was turned to stone by a monk. There are bones associated with it too—which are owned by a museum in Somerset. The Somerset cave owner is trying to get those bones back. Probably where the Moonhater Cave owner got the idea. Caves with stories are rather popular here.”
    “So he thinks the Druids—or Wiccans—or this other cave owner might try to steal