Dead Secret

case.”
    “What proof do I have that you won’t manipulate the data?” asked Charlotte.
    “I’m a person of goodwill.”
    Charlotte still hesitated. Caitlin was on the verge of telling her not to do it. Diane could see the suspicion in her eyes. Maybe if she gave them a little information, it might ease their suspicions.
    “I was asked to take a look at the bones to find out what I can. Mr. Rose wants to know everything he can about the skeleton. You say you are a relative. This is a possible way to prove it.”
    “I suppose I have no choice.”
    “You always have a choice. This is simply the only way I know of supporting your claim.”
    “Or dismissing it,” said Caitlin.
    Diane suspected that Caitlin was more interested in the protest than the disposition of the bones.
    Diane looked at Charlotte. “If she is not a relative, then you don’t want to claim her, do you?”
    “She’s someone’s relative,” said Caitlin. “She should be treated with dignity.”
    “She will be. I treat every body I examine with dignity.” Diane put her forearms on her desk and leaned forward. “Look, this is the way I communicate with people who have died long ago. I read what is written in their bones. I respect the information that they tell me.”
    “Go ahead,” said Charlotte. “I’m trusting you to tell me the truth.”
    She opened her mouth and allowed Diane to take a swab from the inside of her cheek. Diane sealed the swab in its pouch, went behind her desk, labeled it and locked it in the bottom drawer.
    “Thank you. I assure you I will tell you the truth when I have it. I have no interest in doing otherwise. Now I’m going to have to leave. I’m attending a funeral.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Charlotte. “Not someone very close, I hope.”
    “I’m close to her family.”
    “A death in the family is very sad.”
    “Yes, it is. However, she was a hundred and fourteen when she died, and we also have reason to celebrate her life.”
    “I didn’t know people could live that long,” said Caitlin. “Imagine.”
    “It is hard to imagine,” said Diane, rising to show them out the door.

    Vanessa was sitting on the couch in the sitting room that adjoined Diane’s office, sipping the tea that Andie had brought her. “That was very strange. I confess, Andie and I sort of eavesdropped.”
    “I’ll say,” said Andie. “I thought they were going to run over me. They’re witches?” She hesitated. “Sorry, couldn’t help but listen.”
    “Wiccan and Druid. As I understand it they’re not the same, and neither is necessarily a witch. Anyway, it was interesting. I don’t know if I can discover if the story goes with the skeleton, but it’ll be fun working on it. Andie, did we get a package from the Rose Museum in England while I was gone?”
    “Yes. The paperwork is in your in box. Mr. Rose said in the letter that he doesn’t want you to start until you speak to him. There were also some pretty cool photographs with the paperwork—this statue in a cave. I thought you’d like that. Do you really think you can get DNA from the skeleton? I had the idea from reading the paperwork that the skeleton is really old, like really old, like over a thousand years.”
    “I don’t know if I can get any usable DNA or not. It will certainly be interesting if I do.”
    Vanessa stood up. “I suppose it’s time. I have to tell you, I’m dreading this. People from all over are coming. Even the governor is sending someone. It is going to be a long funeral. Gram would hate it.”

Chapter 9
    Diane gazed out the window of Vanessa’s limo as they pulled up in front of the First Presbyterian Church. It was a huge structure built with granite from Georgia. The rock, blue when it was freshly quarried, had weathered to a dark bluish gray after ninety-two years of exposure to the elements. Helen was twenty-two years older than the church. Her daughter was two years older than the ninety-two-year-old structure. Odd and somehow comforting, thought, Diane, that people could be older than this stone edifice.
    The central sanctuary had tall stained-glass windows in shades of blue and green and was flanked by two medieval-looking towers. The parking lot was to one side and was already filling up. Vanessa was right: A great many people were there—many more, Diane guessed, than her grandmother had known. But as Vanessa said, this was the price for being from a prominent family and for living way past a hundred.
    Vanessa