Dust to Dust

right. Jin is working on the analysis. I’ll find out when he expects to finish. We’ll hand over the evidence and the analysis. I suppose Mr. Dance is satisfied. Have you spoken with him?”
    “Yes. He’s very pleased that we have cleared his daughter’s name. He’s not happy that we have to turn the evidence over to the Gainesville police. He doesn’t trust them. I told him the news media will be keeping an eye on them. He said it shouldn’t have come to that; they should have done the job right the first time.”
    “I agree,” said Diane. “However, things are how they are.” She stood up. “I need to give some instructions to David and meet with a few of my curators, so I’m going to run you off.”
    Kingsley stood up. “I understand. If I stay much longer, I don’t think you could get me out of that chair. You have a very comfortable office. Though I find the photograph of you hanging over that chasm a little disturbing every time I look at it.”
    Diane smiled. “A lot of people do.” She said it as if it were a strange thought. Diane loved caving and she particularly liked vertical-entry caves. There was something quite exciting about repelling down an open chasm.
    She walked out with him on her way to the crime lab. “Are you going to just let the police reinterview Stacy’s band members?” asked Diane as they walked down the hall to the lobby.
    “I think they’ll do a better job. I’m sure they’re scarier than I am,” he said.
    Diane started to leave him to go to her appointments, when she spotted three women at the information booth. She knew them. So did Kingsley.
    “Well, hell,” they both whispered together.

Chapter 30
    Diane stood looking at Kathy Nicholson, Wendy Walters, and Marsha Carruthers as they turned in her direction. It was obvious they were being directed to Diane’s office. The three of them spotted her and Kingsley. For a moment, Diane had the urge to run and hide behind the mammoth in the Pleistocene room.
    Their faces ranged from grim to angry. As the three women approached, Diane wondered which office would be better for whatever was about to happen: her osteology office in her forensic anthropology lab with its cold, spartan decor, or her more comfortable museum office with its Zen-like qualities. She opted for Zen-like. That office was closer.
    Marsha Carruthers looked much as she had when they interviewed her. She wore another dark dress. This one was gray with black buttons and a white collar and cuffs.
    “I’m glad both of you are here,” Marsha said. “We intend to speak with you.”
    Diane supposed it was only fair, since she and Kingsley went to their homes intending to speak with them, and did.
    “Very well. We can talk in my office,” said Diane.
    She retraced her steps to her office, opening the doors to the administrative wing of the museum for her guests. She led them down the hall into Andie’s office, where she found Jonas Briggs waiting for her.
    “I thought I would escort you to the staff meeting,” said Jonas. He smiled cheerfully, probably relieved that Marcella was doing so much better than the doctors had expected.
    As Diane attended to Jonas, the three women waited impatiently. Kathy Nicholson spent the time scrutinizing Andie’s seating area, a room Diane thought would be good for entertaining Peter Rabbit’s mother, with its cottage-style overstuffed chairs and sofa. The room’s colors of pink, blue, and green, and the floral design, were repeated in a porcelain grandfather clock. A rag rug in matching colors sat underneath a dark cherry pie-crust coffee table. Kathy Nicholson’s gaze shifted from one item to the next, lingering on a crackled figure of a rabbit sitting on the coffee table beside magazines about museums.
    The other two women simply stood, frowning and waiting. Diane didn’t introduce anyone. It didn’t seem appropriate and she didn’t think the three women would appreciate it.
    “Change of plan,” said Diane. “Andie, you are taking my place at the meeting.”
    Andie’s eyes grew wide. “What? Me?”
    “You know the curators and the issues. You have the budgets. And you’ve been wanting to be more involved at a higher level,” said Diane.
    “Yes, but, I mean, they are all college professors, and I’m, well, me,” she said.
    “Ah,” said Jonas, putting an arm around her shoulder, “but you sit on the right hand of the queen herself. Just remember that. And also that underneath their