One Grave Too Many

liar.”
    “No, she isn’t, and I doubt she told you that I said Alix was beating you up, because what I told her was that it had been reported to me that she was hitting you and making the bruises. I told her I didn’t know if it was true.”
    “It isn’t true. Alix and I are friends. Who are you to interfere in my life anyway? What business is it of yours?”
    “I was ready to consider firing Mike Seger because I thought he was abusing you and bringing it to the museum. That made it my business.”
    “Nobody’s abusing me. You’ve got my parents all worked up over nothing. I’m very active and I get bruises.”
    “Fine. That’s all you have to say to Laura. I have to wonder at the level of your anger and why you came to my house. That belies your protest that the story isn’t true.” Diane felt unsteady on her feet, so she went back to the sofa and sat down.
    “What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” asked Melissa.
    Diane looked at Melissa for a moment, her angry flushed face, her clenched fists. “No, I was mugged last night in front of the apartment. I just got home from the hospital.”
    “Oh. Well, I want you to stay out of my business.”
    No Oh, I’m sorry. How are you? Diane was seeing a new Melissa, a very self-centered one.
    “Don’t bring your personal business to the museum,” Diane said.
    “I won’t. Alix is really hurt. I wish we’d just let whatever was going on happen to you.”
    “What does that mean?”
    But Melissa turned and left, almost running into Frank on her way out.
    “What was that about?” he asked.
    “It’s too odd and convoluted to explain. How’s Star?”
    “Feeling a little contrite, which is unusual for her. She really is sorry she snapped at you.”
    “She’s right, I’m not her mother.” But it had stung, Diane had to admit. Shakespeare knew what he was talking about—“How sharper than a serpent’s tooth, it is to have a thankless child.”
    “You were someone being kind. She needs to respect that. How are you? Tell me about last night. Why didn’t you call?”
    “You’ve had enough to worry about. And I can take care of myself.”
    “Why didn’t you call?”
    “Just what I said—and I don’t want to be dependent.”
    “Tell me what happened.”
    Diane gave him a blow-by-blow of the event, along with what she remembered of the attacker’s description. “I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t believe it was a random mugging. When he ran, it was down the street and up another street. I think he didn’t want his car to be seen on this street, and he wasn’t looking for just anyone to mug—I think he was looking for me.”
    “Because of the bones?”
    “That would be my guess. It’s been on TV. I think whoever it is, is in a panic.”
    “Hurting you won’t stop the bones from being found—they’re already found.”
    “No. But what if the person thinks that I’m the impetus for connecting the bones with the Boone murders? What if he thinks that if I’m put out of commission, no one else will follow through? The police aren’t interested. They want it to be Star. Perhaps he thinks with me out of the way, the digging will stop.”
    “There’s me,” said Frank.
    “Yes. There’s you. I don’t know. Maybe they had plans for you too. Maybe I’m wrong and it was a random mugging. Or maybe it was someone who wants me to just leave so the museum can be sold.”
    “Would Grayson go that far?”
    “I don’t think so. He doesn’t want to go to jail. I think he’s a shark, not a maniac.” Diane looked at her watch. “I’m going to go to the site and to the museum.”
    “You’re going to do no such thing. If I heard right, you require bed rest.”
    “That’s what people keep saying, but I’m just fine and I’ve been resting all morning.” She looked over at the bags sitting on her coffee table. “What have you got there?”
    “I figured you’d need some lunch and you probably wouldn’t fix any yourself, so I stopped by a restaurant. How does potato soup and a salad sound?”
    “Actually, it sounds good. You brought yourself something, didn’t you?”
    “A cheeseburger and fries.”
    Frank put everything out on the kitchen table, and they sat down to eat. She poured the soup into a mug and sipped it. It was warm and soothing going down her throat. The salad was good too; just the right thing. Frank knew just what to do in a crisis. She wondered what he was like on a day-to-day basis, living an ordinary