Scattered Graves

said.
‘‘Do you have a change of clothes in your office?’’ he asked.
‘‘Yes, and a shower. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the rescue,’’ she said.
He drove around to the rear of the museum and Diane started to get out.
‘‘Can we get the crime lab out of the museum?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’d really like to reclaim the real estate.’’
‘‘I’ll look at the contract. Right now, I’d have to say no, not until the contract expires. But maybe I can get creative.’’
Diane thanked him again and got out at the loading dock. From there it was a short distance to the private entrance to her office.
    Diane showered, washed her hair, dressed in clean clothes, and was about as refreshed as she was going to get. She took a couple of aspirin to dull the pain and walked to her assistant Andie’s office and waited for the reaction.
    ‘‘Oh, God. What happened?’’ Andie’s eyes were so wide, Diane could see the whites all around her irises. ‘‘Your face... What happened? Are you all right? You better sit down.’’
    Mike, the museum’s geology curator and Diane’s caving partner, was there. He and Andie stared openmouthed at her. She had tried makeup but washed it off. Maybe theatrical makeup, she thought.
    ‘‘I was passing the path to the gorge and I thought, what the heck, I’ll do a little solo climbing before I go to the museum,’’ she said.
    Mike took her hands and looked at the scraped fingers.
‘‘You did?’’ His voice was filled with such incredu lity that Diane almost laughed.
He looked at her, amazed, obviously unable to make sense of why Diane would go climbing in her street clothes, alone—not sure if she was joking, and wondering how she’d gotten so beat up.
‘‘What did happen?’’ asked Andie.
Diane explained the episode with Delamore, trying to keep it objective, but she suddenly felt more shaken than she’d realized. She sat down on the sofa and hoped they didn’t notice how suddenly weak on her feet she was.
‘‘I’ve been at the police station, then the hospital ever since,’’ she said.
‘‘Oh, my God,’’ said Andie. ‘‘I was a little worried when I couldn’t get you on your cell.’’
‘‘Delamore stomped it into the pavement,’’ said Diane.
‘‘He tried to kill you?’’ said Mike. ‘‘He hit you?’’ Mike sat down on the stuffed chair next to the sofa. He reached over and touched her face with his finger tips, then let his hand drop.
‘‘I’m fine. I’ve looked worse after we’ve been cav ing,’’ she said.
‘‘No, you haven’t,’’ said Mike.
Thanks , she thought.
‘‘Can I do anything to help?’’ he asked.
‘‘You’ve helped immeasurably already. Thanks for insisting that I learn more about rock climbing. It saved my life,’’ she said.
His lips turned up into half a smile. ‘‘Every caver needs to learn rock climbing,’’ he said. ‘‘I guess so does every museum director–crime detector.’’
As Diane started to stand, Mike reached out and helped her up.
‘‘You think you need to rest up a bit?’’ he said. ‘‘Seriously. I’ve seen you look better.’’
‘‘I’ve got a lot to do,’’ she said. ‘‘I need to keep busy.’’ I just saw a man die, she thought. He may have been trying to kill her, but it was still disturbing to see someone die. Her heart ached with the thought of it. Focus , she thought. ‘‘Andie, would you mind going downtown and buying me another cell phone?’’
‘‘Sure,’’ said Andie. ‘‘Any particular kind?’’
‘‘Something useful,’’ she said.
‘‘Sure. I’ll do it right now.’’ Andie jumped up and grabbed her purse and coat from the closet. ‘‘You’ve had several reporters call about the wood-chipper murder. Was someone really murdered by being put in a wood chipper? That’s awful.’’
Diane was afraid of this.
‘‘No,’’ she said simply, not wanting to discuss a case, but wanting to dispel any rumors. ‘‘I imagine you’ll be getting more calls when the news outlets find out about Delamore. I’m not in for any reporters.’’ Diane wondered whether Harve Delamore had anything to do with the bones found in the field. She knew he didn’t like her, but why did he attack her now? Maybe he’d heard the news report.
Andie was about to leave when the door to her office opened and Jonas Briggs, the museum’s archae ologist, came in along with Henry Miller, the young boy who’d discovered the bones, and another young