One Grave Less

paused. “Make it worth your while at the same time I clear my name.”
    “Let me work on it and I’ll get back to you.”
    “Thank you,” said Diane.
    “I’m puzzled by this,” Prehoda said. “Why would they go with a story with so many holes in it that are easily checked out?”
    “I don’t know. Their source must have been convincing. I’ve had several run-ins at crime scenes with Pris Halloran. That may have something to do with her role in it. She had been working for that small station. I don’t know how she got in with a big network affiliate.”
    “Surely, reporters expect to be run off from crime scenes,” said Prehoda.
    “She didn’t take it well,” said Diane.
    “If we can show it was payback, that’s even better for us,” he said.
    “I’ll be available if you have any questions,” she said.
    “I’ll have many. I’m sorry about Ms. Stewart,” he said.
    “Thank you. Her death was so unexpected,” said Diane.
    Thankfully, he didn’t pursue any questions about it.
    “Okay,” said Diane when she was off the phone with Prehoda. “Now to track down Brian Mathews.”
    Garnett pulled his chair closer and leaned forward in his seat. Diane turned her monitor so he could see it and Googled Brian Mathews’ travel blog. True to what she had been told, he was traveling in Peru, visiting historical sites and parts of the ancient Inca trail, and posting both a written and video blog.
    She looked at his itinerary. Assuming he was on schedule, he was supposed to be staying at the Cuzco Catedral hotel today. Surely she wouldn’t get that lucky. She dialed the hotel number and asked for Brian Mathews. To her surprise they rang the room. She put the phone on speaker so that Garnett could also hear. A male answered. Surprise again.
    “This is Dr. Diane Fallon, director of the RiverTrail Museum in Rosewood, Georgia. Is this journalist Brian Mathews?”
    “Yes, Dr. Fallon. I believe we met briefly at one of your museum functions.”
    “Call me Diane, please,” she said. It sounded good so far. He didn’t sound like someone who was accusing her of drug running.
    “If you will call me Brian. What can I do for you?”
    Diane had given a lot of thought as to how to approach this. She did not want to sound accusative. She didn’t want him to get defensive. She wanted to keep it conversational. She had been at a loss on how to accomplish that until she heard Garnett’s conversation with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution reporter. Might as well stay consistent.
    “After several disturbing incidents, I’ve discovered that I’ve had my identity stolen,” she said.
    “My brother had that happen. It took him a couple of years to get the thing straightened out.”
    “I hope it won’t take that long. It’s getting more and more serious. Whoever is doing it is someone I’ve apparently offended grievously in some way or other. I won’t go into everything that has happened, but one incident involved someone claiming to be you.”
    “Me? Well, damn. How so?” he said. “Just a minute, honey, I’m on the phone. Sorry. We’re going out in a little while. We were supposed to attend a lecture about Paleo-Indian Migration Through the Americas by a professor visiting from the University of Georgia, but she was a no-show. Now the wife and I are going out on the town. So someone was pretending to be me, really?”
    “That’s what I assumed and am calling to verify. Someone who identified himself as you called one of our board members—Dr. Martin Thormond from Bartrum University—and asked Dr. Thormond about my involvement in drug smuggling in South America.”
    “What? I don’t know a Martin Thormond, and I’m a travel reporter and rather enjoy it. Not interested in crime reporting. I’m more of an explorer. I don’t like someone using my name. What was their purpose—just sticking their finger in your eye?” He chuckled. “That is, if you weren’t drug smuggling.”
    “Not even close,” said Diane. “I used to do human rights investigations in Porto Barquis. As I said, there have been incidences. The first instance that I’m aware of was the call, purportedly from you, to a board member.”
    “This is malicious, but how is it identity theft?” he asked.
    “I’ve had my e-mail account hacked and embarrassing e-mails sent out in my name. Someone is using my name and doing some rather bad things. The call to Thormond was just the first strange thing that happened. It didn’t