One Grave Less

now it looks like she may have stabbed him, tried to get away through the lab room, and collapsed. David said she has a blow to her head that she may have gotten during the fight. But that didn’t take her down until later. Like I said, it’s all preliminary.”
    “That’s good, Jin. Did you do the stable isotope analysis on the bone?”
    “I was getting to that. Scott did the analysis. The ratios look like the bone came from someone who was raised in the Amazon rain forest. Does that help?”
    “It’s another piece of the puz—”
    She stopped . . . gripped the phone. . . . She couldn’t breathe.
    Oh God .
    “Boss? You there?”
    Jin’s words were faint in her ears.
    “She’ll call you back.” It was Frank talking to Jin.
    She heard the sound of the phone receiver being put back on the cradle.
    “What’s wrong?” Frank sat down beside her. “Diane, are you ill?”
    “Simone. What if Simone was bringing me . . . what if that was . . . Oh, dear God. What if it was Ariel, my little Ariel? What if that was her little bone I was cutting?”
    Tears flowed from her eyes as she bent over, choking on her grief.

Chapter 13
    If Frank hadn’t been holding her, Diane would have fallen to the floor. All this time she had told herself, made herself believe, that Ariel had somehow gotten away during the massacre. That somehow she had hidden in the jungle she knew so well, had saved herself from the slaughter. She had wanted to believe that somewhere Ariel was alive, was well, was happy. That someday she would grow up to be old enough . . . old enough to travel, and perhaps she would make her way to America . . . to Georgia . . . back to Diane. And all that time there was also the dark fear that this moment would come.
    “If it was your Ariel,” Frank whispered in her ear, “and I’m not saying that it was—but if it was her, she was in the best, most loving hands.”
    Diane leaned against Frank for a long time. When finally she pulled away she was feeling . . . she didn’t know what to feel, or believe. She balled her hands into fists so she wouldn’t shake.
    “Why else would Simone come to see me . . . carrying a child’s bone? She found where Ivan Santos buried the dead from the mission. She found . . .” Diane’s lower lip trembled and she bit it to stop the quivering. “She found Ariel’s grave.”
    “What do the other things mean?” said Frank. “The feathers and the animal parts?”
    “I don’t know. Simone hasn’t been able to talk,” said Diane. She sat down on the sofa, suddenly tired. “I asked Garnett to find out how she is doing. I didn’t think the hospital would give me the information. He said she was still unconscious with a severe concussion. They don’t know if she’ll recover. On the other hand, they said she might wake up at any time. You know how those injuries are.”
    “Does her employer know what she was working on?” asked Frank.
    “I don’t know. Garnett is handling everything. Since I know her, I have to at least act like I’m steering clear of the investigation.”
    But she wasn’t going to. Except for tonight.
    She and Frank spent the rest of the evening trying to talk about the wedding, about Star, music . . . anything except his work, the museum, and Ariel.

    The morning brought no less pain than the evening before had. Diane was haunted by the thought that the little bone might belong to Ariel. Instead of cradling it, she had cut into it, thin-sectioned it, cut off a part and sent it downstairs to be crushed for analysis.
    She knew her thoughts were irrational. Frank was right—as she did with all bones, she gave it the best of care, allowing it to tell whatever story it had to tell.
    She was up earlier than Frank and she made breakfast for the two of them. It was Frank who always insisted on breakfast. Diane supposed it was a good thing. If it were only her, she’d probably sleep in and have a protein drink on the way to work. Today she and Frank had pancakes, scrambled eggs, and orange juice. A good, nourishing breakfast, but it did not sit well in her stomach.
    When she drove her red SUV into the parking lot, heart-ache gnawed at her insides. But she had to put on a professional face. She had to do her duty.
    She made up her mind that today she was going to visit the hospital. Maybe Simone would be awake. Her folks would be there. Maybe they would know something.
    She was early; the museum had not yet opened for business. She walked up the steps