Dust to Dust

come home and found the door open and her lying on the floor, dead. She took a deep breath and stood up when she heard the paramedics coming down the stairs with a stretcher. They were the same ones who had been making the runs to Marcella’s house.
    “Didn’t we just take this guy last week . . . and wasn’t he dead?” one of the paramedics asked Diane as he and his partner passed with the stretcher.
    “Must be the same family,” she muttered.
    As they went out the front door, she thought she heard one of them mumble that he was going to write a book.
    Frank came in a moment later, alarm and bewilderment on his face. Diane looked at him with tears in her eyes. He had gotten away early. What if he had arrived when the intruder came blasting through the door? She put a hand over her mouth, trying to gulp back the fear.
    “Sweetheart, are you all right?” He ran over to her and she hugged him hard.
    “There are a couple of doors you’re going to have to fix,” she said.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    Garnett came down the stairs with the police officers. He stayed inside and sent the other officers to search the grounds. Garnett, Diane, and Frank sat down in the living room.
    Diane sat trembling on the sofa. “Jeez,” she said, “I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
    Frank put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.
    “Can’t say as I blame you,” said Garnett. He was wearing a suit. She wondered what he was doing in a suit this late. He should be in pajamas. He handed her her cell phone. “It was on the floor.”
    “Oh God, Vanessa,” she said. “She must be worried sick. She called just before . . .”
    She dialed Vanessa’s number. It was picked up at half a ring.
    “Diane, are you all right? We could hear the gunfire. Harte is here with me,” she said.
    Diane remembered now. She had dropped her phone as the intruder came into the room. Vanessa must have heard most of it. Damn .
    “I’m fine. I had an intruder, but he’s gone now,” said Diane. “The paramedics took him away.”
    “You had an intruder? Dear, it sounded like a fire-fight.”
    “There was an exchange of gunfire, but I’m okay. I’m sorry to have hung up on you,” she said.
    “I think you need a good stiff drink, girl. You are sounding way too calm, and that’s not good,” said Vanessa. “What? Just a minute. Harte is mumbling something.” She paused. “Harte says she will bring you one of her special tonics if you need it. I can recommend them.”
    Diane smiled. “Thank her for me. I’m fine. Just rattled. Did you say your mother remembered something?” Diane asked.
    “Yes, but I can talk to you later about it. I’m sure the police are there,” said Vanessa.
    “They are, but I’d like to give them the information,” she said.
    “Okay. Mother remembered Edith Farragut. Farragut was the woman’s maiden name. Mother didn’t know her well. My grandmother said the family were merchants, and she didn’t associate much with them. Grandmother could be a bit of a snob. Anyway, she also said Edith’s husband gave her the creeps when she saw them in church—just something about him. She didn’t say what. She also said he had a lot of pride. The whole family did. I’m not sure what she meant by that either. They divorced, but the two of them lived near each other for a long time. They didn’t live in Pigeon Ridge, but in Rosemont, near here. They purchased the old Gutemeyer estate. Mother said they had a daughter named Maybelle Agnes Gauthier.”
    “Maybelle Agnes Gauthier,” repeated Diane. MAG.
    “Mother said the daughter was an artist,” continued Vanessa. “She may have lived in Pigeon Ridge—in a sort of artist’s cottage. Mother didn’t know Maybelle very well, even though they were contemporaries. She said she was a strange girl, but painted very well indeed. Mother thought that at one time she may have had a painting of hers. A landscape, she thought. She said if you go to the courthouse, in the corridor where all the portraits of Rosewood politicians are hanging, you can see one of her paintings. She signed with the picture of a little bird. Mother has no idea why.”
    “Do you know what happened to her?” asked Diane.
    “Mother didn’t know. We lived in Europe for a while, so we didn’t know about a lot that went on in Rosewood. When we came back in 1957, Mother said that Edith Farragut had died and the Gauthiers were gone.”

Chapter 42
    Diane hung up with Vanessa, but