Scattered Graves

she told you about the Nean derthal.’’
‘‘Indeed she did, and I am elated. Have you seen the bones yet?’’ she asked. ‘‘Are they nice ones?’’
‘‘Kendel says they are,’’ said Diane. ‘‘She’s deliv ering them herself.’’
‘‘Let me know the minute they arrive,’’ said Vanessa.
‘‘And I’ve filed notice for the crime lab to move out of the museum,’’ said Diane.
‘‘You’ve been busy. I’m glad we are reclaiming the space. I liked the crime lab; it was fascinating, but it’s just not the same without you in charge,’’ Vanessa said.
I realized that or arranged?’’
Diane took a breath. ‘‘I suppose you’ve heard the news in Rosewood,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I heard that the mayor and chief of police have been murdered. I must say, I’m shocked. I didn’t like Jefferies, but to be murdered in your own home, that’s a frightening thought. And this just a month after Judge McNevin. What is happening to my town?’’ said Vanessa.
‘‘I don’t know.’’ Diane filled her in on the meeting with the mayor before the murders, including the fact that he wanted to have her replaced as director of the museum.
‘‘What? How on earth did he plan to manage that?’’ asked Vanessa.
‘‘I don’t have any idea. I think they were just talking through their hats,’’ said Diane.
She told Vanessa about the debacle with the new forensic anthropologist and about the subpoena. As she spoke she heard a commotion in Andie’s office. It sounded like someone was pushing their way in.
‘‘I need to go. There’s apparently someone insistent on seeing me. Let’s have lunch at the museum this week and talk about the primate exhibit.’’ Diane fin ished the call with Vanessa and went into Andie’s office.
A middle-aged woman wearing a flowered dress stood in front of Andie’s desk. She had dyed blond hair with gray roots and carried about fifty extra pounds evenly distributed over her body. She had a large black purse hanging on one arm and two-inch black heels that looked to be too small for her feet.
‘‘I need to see her. I’ve been calling all day. Now, let me see her. I’m not leaving ’til I do.’’
‘‘Is there a problem, Andie?’’ asked Diane.
The woman turned toward Diane. ‘‘You’re Dr. Fal lon. I recognize you. I need to talk to you. I’ve been everywhere else. Please just give me a minute.’’
‘‘This is Mrs. Donovan,’’ said Andie. ‘‘Her son has been arrested for killing Judge McNevin.’’
‘‘Why do you need to see me?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘I’m the museum director.’’
‘‘Everybody knows you’re more than that,’’ she said.
Mrs. Donovan’s face was haggard and worn, wrin kled before her time, but she had beautiful blue eyes that now beseeched Diane.
‘‘Come in. I’ll give you a few minutes,’’ said Diane. She stood aside and gestured to her office.
‘‘Thank you,’’ she said and walked past Andie’s desk and into the office.
Diane followed, leaving the door open a crack, and sat down at her desk.
‘‘I’ll get to the point. I’m Clarice Donovan,’’ she said, sitting down in the chair in front of Diane’s desk, scooting it closer at the same time. ‘‘My son is Evan Donovan. He’s been accused of killing the judge that put Bobby away for life. Bobby’s my other son. I know my family’s troubled. It would be what they call dysfunctional on the Dr. Phil show. I know Bobby’s done some bad things, and now he’s in jail paying for it. But Evan’s a good boy—I mean, he might do some little things, but he wouldn’t kill nobody, and he didn’t do this. I can’t find anybody to look into it for me. The lawyer they assigned to him won’t do nothing but try to get Evan to plead guilty. Well, he’s not guilty. Isn’t that lying in court if you say you done something and you didn’t?’’
‘‘What is it you think I can do?’’ asked Diane. The woman must be truly drawing at straws if she ended up here , she thought.
‘‘You can look into it. I know they say they got the evidence, but they can’t have. They’ve made some mistake.’’
‘‘Why did you come to see me?’’ repeated Diane.
‘‘The crime lab here did the evidence,’’ she said.
‘‘I’m no longer director of the crime lab,’’ said Diane.
‘‘But you could talk to the person who is,’’ she said.
If you only knew . ‘‘I assure you, the current director won’t listen to me,’’ she