One Grave Too Many

bone and fish bone in the same place. I think you might look for the rest of the body—the remaining bones—in a place where animal bones are processed. A hunting camp, somewhere that processes meat . . . something like that.”
    Frank nodded. “That’s something—a good place to start. How is it that you know so much about bugs?”
    “Part of my old job. Bodies, bones, bugs and blood.”
    “All that?”
    “It’s all connected. Besides, it’s hard to find a crime lab in the places I had to go. Those countries often don’t want us there in the first place, and their cooperation doesn’t extend to lending expert personnel and lab facilities. The team learned how to do everything ourselves.”
    “So you’re familiar with crime scenes?”
    “Yes.”
    Frank stood and walked over to a photograph on her wall of the inside of a cave. He didn’t turn around, but spoke to the photograph. “Warrick’s finished with the crime scene. I wonder if you’d take a look at it?”
    “Frank, I . . .”
    He turned in her direction. “They matched the gun with the bullet that killed Jay. It was Louise’s gun. Star’s just sixteen. Sixteen, Diane. I don’t think she did it. I’m getting her a lawyer, but I need to get a handle on the crime scene.”
    “It’s already been contaminated.”
    “I know, but you said ‘bodies, bones, bugs and blood.’ You know about blood spatters?”
    “Yes. Like other crime scene evidence, blood spatters can be an important element in human rights cases, but . . .”
    “That’s a place to start. There are spatters. Diane, for now, I’m Star’s guardian, until she’s eighteen. I’ve known her since she was a baby. She’s like a daughter, and I know she didn’t do this, but I need help proving it.” He was silent a moment, turning back to the picture. “It looks like you in this cave.”
    “It is.”
    “It looks like you’re hanging from a rope.”
    “I am.”
    “Why?” He turned around and faced her with a puzzled frown.
    “The entrance to that particular cave was from above. You knew I was a caver?”
    “Well, yeah, you mentioned it, but I thought you visited as a tourist—like Ruby Falls or Mammoth Cave, you know—with a bunch of other people.”
    She gestured to the photograph. “That cave’s in Brazil. I was mapping it.”
    “Mapping it? Why?”
    Diane shrugged. “It hadn’t been mapped.”
    “So that’s what you do for fun?”
    She leaned forward with her elbows on the desk. “It’s very relaxing. Caves are beautiful. The line from Frost’s poem—‘lovely, dark and deep’—fits caves better than woods. It’s like being in the center of a velvet black universe—often as silent as the vacuum of space must be.”
    “You say it like that’s a good thing.”
    Diane laughed at him standing there with that curious look on his face. “It’s a very good thing.”
    Frank picked up a geode paperweight sitting on her dark walnut desk and turned it over in his hand. “We need to get reacquainted. We hardly knew each other before.”
    “It seems there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
    Diane’s private line rang and she picked it up, still holding his gaze in hers.
    “Diane, how about letting Dylan Houser come down and make an assessment of your interactive computing needs.”
    Diane hesitated a moment, pulled her attention away from Frank and focused on the caller. “Ken, hi. How are you? You don’t waste time, do you?”
    “This isn’t a business where you can waste time—not like real estate, apparently.” He laughed so loud Diane had to pull the phone away from her ear.
    “What’s up with Mark anyway?” asked Diane.
    “Damned if I know. Makes no sense to me, unless he’s got his money tied up in it somehow and needs the deal to cover his losses or something. I can’t believe he’d put us through all this trouble for commission. How about Dylan? It was his idea. I think his girlfriend wants to work there. He’s a smart kid. Already figured out how much money I can make if he talks you into it.”
    “His father, Jake, is one of our evening security guards. Sure, why not make it a family affair? It won’t hurt to see what he comes up with.”
    “Good. I’ll tell him. If I figure out what Grayson’s up to, I’ll let you know.” He hung up. Ken rarely cluttered up his conversations with hellos and good-byes.
    As she placed the phone back in its docking station, her gaze shifted to the envelope on the desk. “Is