One Grave Too Many

and held his chest. “God, it hurts to laugh. Yes. Strange people. Ben Florian, my partner, called. He apologized up and down for sending the information to the Rosewood police.”
    “It’s all right now. I really think we’ve found the guy, and I think he’ll lead us to the murderer of your friends.”

    Diane drove her car and parked in front of the museum. It looked like home. She was getting to love it more every day. Now that the problems with the Graysons were over, there’d be only the normal problems of museum life. Not that they couldn’t be difficult, but it wasn’t like dealing with snakes in the grass. Snakes . She wished she hadn’t thought of snakes.
    Mike was there changing a flat tire on his SUV. He had the flat off and was about to put on the spare.
    “Looks like I picked up a nail somewhere,” he said. “You look much better than the last time I saw you.”
    “I’m doing good. Thanks for the information you gave me. It helped.” Diane looked at the brake disc exposed by the missing tire and rim. Her gaze shifted over his heavy SUV and back down at the disc. “That’s a heavy vehicle.”
    “Yes. It is.”
    “If the brake disc fell on you, it would do some damage, especially if you were on a hard surface.”
    He looked up at her. “Is that a threat?”
    Diane looked at his puzzled face and realized she was thinking out loud and he had no idea what was running through her mind. She had to laugh.
    She squatted down beside him and put a hand on the disc. “This is what caused the damage.”
    “My Explorer? What damage?”
    “No. Not yours, but one like it.” Diane was thinking about the damage to the shoulder girdle on the bones of the skeleton. “Before you put your tire on, will you make me a cast of the bottom part of the brake disc?”
    “Sure. I can do that. It’s a little weird, but that’s what I’ve come to expect.”
    “There should be some quick-drying stuff in the museum.”
    “I’ve got some in the geology lab. I’ll get right on it.”
    They walked into the museum together. Diane went to her office, Mike to the second floor.
    “Diane, you look great!” Andie gave her a hug. “How are you feeling?”
    “I’m fine. Just have to take it easy.”
    “Anything you need, just ask. By the way, Donald was very relieved when he discovered your attack was about the bones. He thought it was Mark Grayson and the real estate business. He is really being nice. I hope it sticks.”
    “It will for a while anyway.”
    “I can’t believe what Signy Grayson tried to do to you. What if she’d gotten away with it?”
    “She didn’t.”
    Things seemed back to normal at the museum. It was a comfort. Andie and the staff had done a good job keeping up with things. She called Jonas’ office.
    “Hi. We found the skull,” he said when he heard who it was. “I have it here. It had fallen through empty cavities in the pile, like you thought. The team is wrapping things up. Oh, and I got the correct site number.”
    “I’ll be right up.”
    The skull was resting on a doughnut ring on Jonas’ desk. The mandible was beside it. Diane picked it up. It was a typical male skull: prominent brow ridges, large nuchal crest at the back of the head to hold the heavier male neck muscles, large mastoid process, square jaw. Not that females couldn’t have these characteristics; they sometimes do, and some male skulls downplay the characteristics most often consistent with maleness. The skull also had typical Caucasoid characteristics. It was nice when everything fit.
    However, the feature that was the most prominent was the angle shaped compression fracture on the frontal bone over the right orbit and another similer fracture higher up on the parietal. She now had the cause and manner of death: blunt force trauma to the head—murder.
    She told Jonas who he was.
    “I’ll be damned. Good girl. You can turn everything over to the sheriff now and be done with this. No one will have a reason to be after you.”
    When he said that, Diane realized she wanted to finish it. She wanted to be sure the person was caught. “Where was the site?” she asked.
    “The site was in Massachusetts, like the nineteen indicated, near the border with New York. It was excavated about twenty years ago by the archaeology department at Harvard.”
    “Twenty? That long. So it might not have been associated with Aidan Kavanagh at all?”
    “Twenty years doesn’t change anything. It was probably stored in