Dead Secret

lets Neva off the hook,” said David. “Now that you have heard the story from another source.”
    “She’ll be relieved.” Diane sighed. “Maybe this is the first time Dr. Lymon has done such a thing. Maybe it was triggered by her husband leaving.”
    “That’s possible,” said David. “You still want this investigation to be on the QT?”
    “Yes. For now let’s keep it that way.”
    Diane was getting drowsy sitting in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle. If she laid her head back, she’d probably fall asleep. Her thoughts kept going to her bed at home and the crisp, clean sheets she’d put on that morning.
    “Are the detectives making any headway in the funeral stabbings?” Diane realized as she said it that she still talked about it as if she weren’t one of the victims. David chuckled. She supposed it did sound funny.
    “No. But I imagine it’ll take a while to talk to everyone who attended the graveside service.” David pulled up to the curb in front of Diane’s apartment, and Jin pulled in behind them. David looked up at the old building. “Why don’t you move and get away from your creepy neighbors?” he said.
    Diane followed his gaze. “But that means I couldn’t entertain you with stories about them.” She opened the door and started to get out.
    “I’ll walk you to your door,” said David. He stopped abruptly and looked at Diane. “Did your neighbors go to the funeral?”
    Diane returned David’s look of dawning apprehension. Her elderly neighbors’ hobby was attending funerals—even funerals of strangers.
    “I don’t know. They must have. It was the type of funeral that would be of interest to them. You know, they like to give a running critique of funerals to anyone who will listen.”
    “Maybe I’ll visit them tomorrow,” said David. “Unless you’d rather speak with them?”
    “They don’t really like me. They may open up more to you. But I don’t know if they came to the graveside service afterward.”
    “I’ll find out.”
    David walked Diane up the staircase to her door. Just as she was about to put in the key, it opened. Diane was startled. David stepped in front of her.
    “Hey, guys. Uncle Frank asked me to come and spend the night. I brought pizza, in case you’re hungry. It’s warming in the oven,” said a very familiar young voice.
    “Star,” said Diane. Star, Frank’s adopted daughter, stood in the middle of the room grinning happily.
    “I’ll leave you guys to your pizza,” said David, putting his hand over his heart and shaking his head.
    “Thanks, and thank Jin for me,” Diane called after him. She stepped inside the apartment, then locked and bolted the door behind her.
    “You sit down and rest,” said Star. “I’ll get the pizza.”
    Diane didn’t have the heart to tell her she wasn’t hungry and that all she really wanted to do was go to bed. Frank had adopted Star when her parents, who were his best friends, and younger brother were murdered. The police had thought Star had killed her family, and Diane had helped clear her. Though now his daughter, she still called him Uncle Frank like she always had when her parents were alive. Diane’s latest contribution to Star’s upbringing was the somewhat rash offer to take her to Paris and buy her a new wardrobe if she would go to college for at least one year and make a 2.7 grade point average. Star, who just a few months ago was adamantly against going to college, would be starting at Bartram in the fall.
    “It was nice of you to come over,” said Diane.
    “It’ll be fun. Like a slumber party. We’ll stay up and you can tell me all about how you got hurt. How’s Mike? He’s the real cute guy, isn’t he?” Her dark eyes sparkled.
    “We have a lot of real cute guys at the museum. But yes, I think you met him on one of your visits. He’s a geologist.”
    “Yeah, rocks and stuff,” Star said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen.
    Diane collapsed on the couch and leaned back against the pillows, listening to Star knocking around in the kitchen.
    “I started to look for some music,” Star called. “I hope you don’t mind; I just looked in the stereo cabinet, not your personal stuff. All I could find was classical. Do you have any good music?”
    Diane laughed to herself. “I’ll see what I can find.” She located a CD of Ray Charles and put it on the player.
    “Okay, now see, that’s good.”
    “I’m glad you like it. You going to take music