Dust to Dust

for Gauthier,” said Frank, “is Walters.”

Chapter 50
    “Gauthier and Walters are the same name?” said Diane.
    “Yes,” said Kingsley. “That is, sort of. One is French and the other is English.” He grinned.
    “Can that be only a coincidence?” said Diane.
    Frank didn’t say anything for several moments. He studied the list of things Ellie Rose wrote in her diary about the two people she feared. But he didn’t seem really to be looking at it.
    “You know,” he said at last, “this might explain the attack on you.”
    “How?” asked Diane.
    “You are the only person investigating all three crime scenes—Marcella Payden, Mary Lassiter, and Stacy Dance. The perp might think that, if you were out of the way, then no one would make the connection between the Rosewood, Hall County, and Gainesville crimes.”
    It made chilling sense. But who was the enginer who threw a petar at her gate and blew it up? Did Everett Walters send the thug who shot his way into Frank’s house? Did his son? His grandson? His daughter-in-law? Everett Walters called Thomas Barclay to have her fired. Did he think that would get her off the case? Did he perhaps take a less violent route, while some other member of the family took the more violent approach?
    But that was not the first question she needed to answer. The first question was, were the Walters of Gainesville related to Maybelle Agnes Gauthier of Rosewood?
    The ringing phone brought her out of her thoughts.
    “Diane, this is Vanessa. I’m sorry for calling so late. I just had a thought. It’s silly really, but you know, it’s one of those strange coincidences. Did you know that Gauthier in English is Walter? Isn’t that interesting?” she said.
    Of course, Vanessa spoke fluent French. It appeared that everyone except Diane was multilingual.
    “Frank and Ross Kingsley just this minute pointed that out to me. We were marveling at the strangeness of the coincidence.”
    “I’ve found a trunk full of letters,” said Vanessa. “There are probably more trunksful stuck in hidden places in the attic. Tomorrow we’ll help Mother go through these. With a target date of 1957 or thereabouts, it’ll be easier. Except that Mother will probably want to read them all.”
    “Thank you, Vanessa,” she said. “You’ve been a really big help in this.”
    “Oh, good. I can get one of those patches, can’t I?” she said.
    “What patches?” said Diane.
    “Oh, don’t you know, dear? The museum staff designed a small patch to give to whoever does consulting with the dark side. They sew it on their caps or their jackets or whatever. Lawrence Michaels just got his for some kind of handwriting thing—he didn’t reveal any details, so don’t worry—and he’s so proud.”
    “I was unaware of the patch,” said Diane. She rubbed her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose. The museum staff were always up to something, it seemed.
    “They found letters,” Diane told Frank and Kingsley when she hung up. “But I think it’s going to be a while before they find the ones they are looking for. From what Vanessa says, Lillian Chapman, Vanessa’s mother, never threw any of her letters away, and she’s nearly a hundred.”
    “You know, that might be just what we need,” said Kingsley. He gathered up the papers and put them in his folder.
    “A lot of it will be gossip,” said Diane.
    “Maybe. But it may also contain leads.” He put the file under his arm and rose. “I thank you for dinner and the illumination.”
    After he left, Diane pushed crime and murder out of her mind and practiced the piano. Frank had found her an intermediate-level version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D that she was learning how to play. It was a nice way to end the day before going to bed. Frank always played the piano before he went to bed. He chose Diane’s favorite Chopin nocturne.
    Diane lay awake thinking about the Walters family. It would be more than a coincidence if they were related to the artist who disappeared more than fifty years ago. She kept going over scenarios for all that had happened. What if someone in the Walters’ household killed Ellie Rose? Who would it be? Did Wendy know who it was? There was a good possibility that she would. Whom would she protect? Her son? Certainly. Her husband? Probably, but maybe not. Then again, many women would protect the father of their children in order to keep the stigma away from them. Her father-in-law? Less likely, but most