One Grave Less

an evening out, probably meeting someone at the museum restaurant. Their restaurant was one of Rosewood’s finest places to eat.
    “You’re being way too kind to her,” Neva told Lynn.
    “You’ve been here ,” said Izzy to Diane, “unless you went to Brazil on your lunch break.” He shook his head, looking as confused as Diane had felt these past few days. “Is there going to be some Interpol agent coming to pick you up? Can they do that here in this country?” he asked.
    “They work with local law enforcement,” said Diane. “Garnett has already talked with me. He’s telling Interpol I’ve been here the whole time. And Gregory has spoken with someone in Interpol.” She turned to David. “You remember Cameron Michaels.”
    David raised his eyebrows. “Yes. UN guy. He’s at Interpol now? Really?”
    “He’s Interpol’s UN representative,” she said.
    “That doesn’t seem like a step up,” said David. “Anything going on with his career?”
    “He seemed happy with the move. I’m just glad we know someone there,” said Diane.
    “I’m eager to meet this Gregory I’ve been hearing so much about,” said Lynn. She eyed Diane over the rim of her coffee cup.
    Diane was glad Lynn wasn’t looking at David. His usual poker face broke into an expression that said there was no way Lynn could compete with Marguerite. Neva saw him and propped her chin with her hands to stop the smile threatening her lips.
    David didn’t like Lynn. He didn’t actively dislike her, but she was high maintenance—easy to take offense, yet easy to give it. Diane wasn’t crazy about those qualities either, but Lynn had a high level of competence and tended to be very loyal to people she considered her friends. Diane didn’t really mind tiptoeing around her—didn’t mind too much, anyway.
    “I’m glad Gregory’s here,” said Diane. “He’s a comfort.”
    “So,” said Lynn, “everyone’s so excited about the upcoming wedding.”
    “It’s hard to imagine how it can proceed under the circumstances,” said Diane, “but Vanessa is determined.”
    “Personally, I think this is the way to go. Let someone else make all the decisions, and just show up . . . and let them dress you, to boot,” said Lynn.
    Diane didn’t want to talk about her upcoming wedding. It really did seem in the distant future. There were too many things in the way. Too many problems to solve. Right now she couldn’t imagine anyone being happy at her wedding.
    “Have you . . . ,” Diane began. Poor Madge. Diane felt so sad. Madge had lost her life, and her death was being upstaged by other problems—including Diane’s wedding. It was wrong. “Have you examined Madge Stewart?” she said simply.
    Lynn nodded. “I’ve finished her autopsy,” she said, shifting the expression on her face to suit the new topic. “I sent the report to Chief Garnett. Madge Stewart drowned. I didn’t find anything inconsistent with an accident. There were no contusions, and only one light abrasion on her cheek. There was no bleeding in her lungs, no abrasions on her hands or fingers that would suggest a struggle. I found nothing to suggest homicide or suicide. She was a healthy sixty-two-year-old woman.”
    “Do I hear a ‘but’ in your voice?” said Diane.
    Lynn shifted in her chair and locked her fingers together in front of her. “Yes, I suppose you do. She was dressed in expensive clothes and lovely tapestry heels. Would you go walking in the squishy ground on the bank of a lake in your good shoes—especially fabric-covered shoes? It would ruin them. What woman would do that? Those were expensive shoes.”
    “Yeah, but—,” began Izzy.
    “No yeah, but s,” interrupted Neva. “She wouldn’t. Guys might, but none of us girls sitting here at the table would.”
    Izzy shrugged. “I’m just saying . . . not everyone uses good judgment. She might not have known the dirt was soft.”
    “We’ve been having a lot of wet weather lately. She would have to know,” said Lynn. “David showed me where she went in. The ground is pretty messed up by the men who pulled her out of the water. Can’t tell much there. But there is a single chain barrier beside the trail. Beyond the chain, you have to go down a slight grade before you get to the edge.”
    “Yes,” said Izzy, “and there is a large boulder down there that makes a good bench.” He folded his arms across his chest. “And the chain barrier is low. Anybody can step over