One Grave Less

same tool, probably a jeweler’s drill. The feathers are from macaws. The blue ones are from a Spix’s macaw.”
    “A Spix’s macaw?” said Diane. “I didn’t think there were any left.”
    David started to answer when Neva, another of Diane’s crime scene team, came out of a glassed-in cubicle where she had been working on the woven bag the evidence had been found in. They had thought it might be a medicine bag from one of the tribes. Neva slipped off her gloves and disposed of them.
    “The bag is on cam two,” she said, and David switched over to it. The screen blinked and came back up with a view of the embroidered bag with a woven handle. “It’s not South American,” said Neva. “It’s Thai.”
    “Thai?” said David. “Really?”
    Neva nodded. “It’s saturated with a drug called XTR25. It’s a new variant of ecstasy and pretty powerful. The DEA is going to be interested in this,” said Neva.
    Diane felt sick to her stomach.

Chapter 10
    The museum restaurant where Diane was to meet Vanessa and Laura had an ancient medieval library look about it. The center of the restaurant was a maze of tall, vintage brick archways that created small chamberlike spaces with vaulted ceilings, each containing four or five tables of dark wood. Booths lining the walls were tucked behind similar archways.
    Diane knew that Vanessa and Laura would choose a booth. They always did. More privacy. She saw them seated across the restaurant. Madge Stewart was standing in front of their booth with her back to Diane, speaking in an animated fashion.
    It didn’t take her long , thought Diane.
    She watched Madge’s gossip dance. It was like a tattletale pantomime. Vanessa said something to Madge. Madge’s body language changed. She stood still, like a scolded child.
    Diane sighed and threaded her way through the tables toward the booth. She was almost there when Laura noticed her, smiled and waved with a little too much animation. Diane grimaced.
    Madge jumped as if Diane had goosed her.
    “Oh, I have to go,” she said. “Nice speaking with you, Vanessa, Laura.” She smiled weakly at Diane and hurried off.
    Madge was in her forties but sometimes acted like a seventh grader. And all her friends, like Laura and Vanessa, unwittingly encouraged her by coddling her. At least that’s what Diane thought.
    All of them were also old Rosewood several generations back. Nearly all the “old” families had strong bonds among them. But still, Diane had no idea why they excused Madge’s bad behavior. She wasn’t a stupid woman by any means. She was a talented artist. She also seemed to be everyone’s baby sister.
    “I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” said Diane. “But I see you’ve been entertained by the latest gossip.”
    Diane sat down opposite Laura and Vanessa. Laura had redone her blond hair in a short pixielike cut. It looked good with her small face . . . which was frowning at the moment. Vanessa’s platinum white hair was in a smooth French twist. It gave her face a tranquil look, even with her piercing blue eyes.
    Diane and Laura were childhood friends. When Diane was twelve years old, her father moved the family to Tennessee, but she and Laura remained friends. Diane returned to Rosewood briefly when she was in high school to take accelerated college courses from Milo Lorenzo. That’s when she met Vanessa, who was a friend of Milo. It was Milo who later hired Diane as assistant director of the museum. When he was felled by a heart attack, Diane became director of the museum.
    “Vanessa told Madge not to go around repeating rumors, and to remember Kendel,” said Laura.
    Diane fingered the menu, pretending to look at it, not wanting to look at her friends. Not because she was embarrassed by rumors, but because of a free-floating annoyance she was feeling lately toward everyone she knew.
    “Kendel is still suffering fallout from the gossip Madge spread about her,” said Diane.
    “I told her that unlike Kendel, you would probably sue her,” said Vanessa.
    “I would,” said Diane.
    “I don’t think she’ll say anything to anyone else,” said Laura.
    Diane looked up from the menu, having decided she would order red meat when the waitstaff came. She was angry with Laura. She wasn’t sure why; perhaps today she was just tired of Laura’s always trying to smooth things over. Sometimes things didn’t need smoothing over.
    “She will gossip,” said Diane. “It’s in her nature as it’s in