"Signy's staying. I've got an overseas conference call. Nice get-together. I'm sure everyone's having a good time. I'll see you at the board meeting tomorrow." He punched the air between them with his finger. It could have been a quick, friendly gesture, the way some men talk with their hands, but it seemed to Diane like he was pointing a gun. She was glad to see the door close behind him.

Melissa had taken up her place with the string quartet and they began playing Diane's favorite part of Max Bruch's Violin Concerto in G Minor-the Allegro Moderato. Diane entered the Pleistocene hall where she mingled, talked, laughed at bad jokes and sipped wine. Her feet hurt from the effects of hardly ever wearing high-heeled shoes, and her head ached.

"Wow," Andie said, coming up behind her. "We all did a good job, didn't we?"

Diane turned and nodded as she looked at the guests. "Yes, I believe it's a success. I had my doubts on occasion, but everyone seems to be having a good time. Andie, did you request that the quartet play the Peer Gynt Peer Gynt suite?" suite?"

"Who? No, I thought you were handling the music selections."

"I did, but someone wanted to hear it, and I just wondered who it was."

Andie shrugged just as a good-looking guy tapped her on the shoulder and pulled her toward the murals.

Diane moved toward the buffet. The ice mammoth looked fresh and unmelted. She reached out to touch the trunk and found it cold and dry.

"They just replaced it," Donald said, filling his plate with caviar and crackers. "Apparently, they made several. Someone who works for them must be an ice-carving fool." He drifted away and melted into a crowd of black tuxedos before she could say anything more to him.

Signy was working the room in her husband's absence. She reminded Diane of a mouse cursor trail, the way she and her red dress flashed around the room, flirting with the men, ignoring the women. David Reynolds was Signy's current target. She threw back her head, laughing at something he said. Diane caught sight of David's wife, Cindy, at the bison exhibit looking over the head of her son, frowning at the scene. Diane recalled Frank mentioning how easily Cindy could become jealous.

Kevin was demonstrating the computer animations to a tall elderly woman dressed in a long silk gown as white as her hair, dripping pearls and diamonds. It was the unmistakable Vanessa Van Ross, the museum's best patron, second only to the late Milo Lorenzo as the driving force behind the museum. Diane threaded her way through the crowd toward them.

"Diane, dear. I wondered where you'd got to. I just met the most disagreeable young woman. Flashing around like a red sparkler. Called me by my first name. Mark Grayson's wife. The man has no taste. I guess I shouldn't speak like this in front of the boy. Just ignore what I say, young man."

Kevin cackled. Diane kissed her cheek.

"It's good to see you, Vanessa. May I steal you away from Kevin for a moment?"

"Certainly. Can you pause that thing, young man?" Vanessa Van Ross and Diane stepped away to a private corner.

"I know nothing about real estate," Diane said. "Can you tell me why this land is suddenly so valuable? Why does Mark want it so badly?"

"Did you know Hollis MacElroy?"

"I've heard the name. Farmer, owns a lot of land?"

Vanessa nodded. "Owned. He died three months ago. When his will is probated, his heirs intend to put his land on the market. It's considered prime real estate, and it borders the museum property. If they get a good price for it-and they will-this property will increase in value considerably. Rumor has it that a j.a.panese firm is looking at it for a golf course and country club."

"I'm beginning to see." Diane looked at her watch. It was a little after 8:30 P.M. Mark would be back at his office before 9:00 P.M. for his overseas call. She did some quick calculations. That would make it midmorning in j.a.pan. So, Mark was talking to j.a.panese businessmen about the museum property. She looked around the room and wondered how many were on Mark's side.

She turned back to Vanessa. "But there couldn't possibly be enough money involved to pay for moving the museum, setting it up someplace else, and still make it worthwhile for Mark's cronies."

"Not unless the museum is shortchanged. That's the only way I see it working. But I a.s.sure you, my dear, I'll never let that happen. Come, take your mind off that for now. Enjoy your party. You deserve it."

Diane tried shoving Mark Grayson's scheming, the incident with the music and the duplicate purchases to the back of her mind. She tried not to think about Frank and what he must be going through-seeing friends, a whole family, wiped out, murdered. The things she tried not to think about were beginning to pile up into an impossible mountain of forbidden thoughts. It wasn't easy to mingle, make small talk and laugh with so much in her head to keep at bay.

She stood watching the party for the thousandth time, scanning the crowd, looking for some suspicious person who might be an enemy. Donald was talking to the students who had put together the sloth. He was number one on her list for the duplicate orders. Signy was by the bar getting a refill of wine.

Laura Hillard was talking with the archivist and one of the new curators next to the refreshment table still heaped with food. Seeing Laura reminded Diane that she wanted to mention Melissa's black eye. She approached Laura and pulled her away with apologies.

"You know Melissa Gallagher's family, don't you?"

"I know them well. Wonderful people."

"I noticed that she has a black eye. It may have been a simple accident, but I'm a suspicious person. A consequence of my previous career."

Laura turned her blond head toward the quartet and back to Diane. "I see what you mean. It wouldn't be her parents. I'd have known. You're thinking boyfriend, maybe?"

"I don't know," Diane said. "People do get black eyes accidently."

"I'll mention it to her parents." Both watched Melissa playing her violin. "I tend to think it's probably nothing." Laura's gaze lingered on Melissa a moment before she turned her attention back to Diane. "Mark Grayson's made headway with some of the board members."

"Won't do any good unless he makes headway with me."

"He knows that. He wants to put pressure on you from all sides."

"Let him. Maybe it'll keep him occupied." Diane hesitated a moment. "Laura, have you seen anyone here you don't know?" Laura was a rare breed, one of the few fifth-generation residents of the area.

"N-no." She glanced briefly around the room. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Are there any strangers here?"

"No. I don't think so. Some of the catering staff, maybe. Why do you ask?"

OK, now that she had opened this can of worms, what was she going to tell Laura?

"I'm not sure. Some irregularities in purchases. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow at the board meeting."

"That sounds cryptic. What would strangers being here have to do with purchases?"

"It's just a matter of not wanting to believe that the irregularities have anything to do with people we know."

"Now, that does sound bad." Laura knitted her brows.

From the look Laura gave her, she must be sounding completely paranoid. "No, just annoying." She patted Laura's arm. "I'm sorry I mentioned it tonight. I'll talk about it tomorrow."

Hunger pangs had been gnawing at Diane's stomach since she arrived. She headed back to the refreshment table but was caught by Kenneth Meyers, CEO of NetSoft, with a young man in tow.

"Have you met Dylan Houser?" Kenneth said, introducing the twentyish young man. "He's your security guard's son. Dylan's a sharp boy. Just the kind of hungry lad that'll do well in the computer business. High technology's the thing now." He slapped Dylan on the back.

Dylan shook Diane's hand. He reminded her of a hockey player, the tough, fearless way he carried his youth. His face was a younger version of his father's: dark hair, dark eyes, without the deep rugged lines. He was also charming and looked good in a tux. Every mother's dream for her daughters. She hoped he wasn't Melissa's boyfriend.

Diane mentally shook away the thought. She caught herself weaving a whole story out of that one black eye. She reminded herself that this directorship at the museum was supposed to bring her into a kinder world-at least, one free of violence and death. Just as she was thinking those thoughts, Alix, the first violinist, came up and threaded her arm through Dylan's, and they exchanged a flash of bright smiles. Alix had nary a bruise or blemish on her fair skin.

"Getting pretty good with that violin," Dylan said. "I'm beginning to like that kind of music-though a little bluegra.s.s would be nice." Alix nudged him in the ribs and laughed.

"I never thought this rambling old building would make such a great museum," Dylan said to Diane. "Dad took me and Alix on a tour through the rooms earlier this evening, and it's really impressive. I like those big guys in the other room."

"Thank you. We are all very proud of it." At least, most of us are, At least, most of us are, she mused as she caught a glimpse of Donald talking with Craig Amberson. she mused as she caught a glimpse of Donald talking with Craig Amberson.

"I agree with Dylan." Kenneth took in the room with a sweeping gaze. "It looks good. I like what you've done with computers. I'd like to suggest you use more computer simulations of dinosaurs-maybe something interactive, Jura.s.sic Park Jura.s.sic Park-style. Some sound effects."

He opened his arms wide and, for a moment, Diane thought he was going to imitate a dinosaur. "This is a computer world now. If you want to hold people's attention, you got to give them high tech. By the way, I've got a nice laptop I'm bringing you tomorrow. My compliments. I'd like you to check it out, see how you like it. I've installed GPS on it. Just the thing for museum personnel in the field-not that I'd use my position as a board member to help my business." He laughed, and Diane had to laugh with him. Kenneth was one of the most shameless people she'd ever met.

Signy sashayed up and neatly slid between Alix and Dylan. "Kenneth's been telling me some good things about you, Dylan. It must be so exciting graduating, ready to make your mark in the world."

Alix rolled her eyes. Dylan smiled politely. "I'll be going to graduate school in the fall, so the world will have to wait while I make another mark at Harvard."

The way Signy eyed her, Diane could tell she was going to say something about moving the museum. Diane started to excuse herself-too late. Signy opened her mouth to speak. However, Craig Amberson came over and interrupted before Signy got out her first syllable.

"Somebody just told me you've been looking at a bone for the police. Going to get back into that business? You think you can do that and run a museum too?"

Signy obviously approved of the question, if the way she beamed at Craig was any measure.

"I looked at one bone for a detective as a favor. As well as director, I'm also the curator of the primate skeletal collection. I believe looking at a bone still falls under my purview."

It just hit her-in light of what Vanessa had said about the rumor of a golf course-that the museum building would make a grand hotel and restaurant for someone like Craig who was in that business. Something must have shown on her face, for his eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

"I think looking at bones is fascinating," said Alix. "Just like that TV show. . . ."

"I agree," said Dylan. "My father's been wanting to write a book. You two ought to get together."

"You talking about the bone Dad showed you?"

"Hush, Kevin. What did I tell you about breaking into other people's conversations?" Cindy and her son had joined the small group. Diane was starting to feel suffocated.

"Dad said you told him a whole lot about it," said Kevin, ignoring his mother.

"Not that much, really," said Diane. "I'd need more of the skeleton. Ah, Mrs. Van Ross is talking to the botanical collection manager. I need to speak with both of them. Nice meeting you, Dylan. Excuse me, please." Diane moved away before anyone else could ask her about that d.a.m.n bone.

She spoke briefly with Vanessa and went straight to the buffet table. With the affair flowing along on its own, she could afford to feed her stomach before it started growling.

Armed with a plate of raw vegetables, a couple of small triangle sandwiches and a gla.s.s of wine, Diane headed for the giant short-faced bear exhibit. She sat down on its platform, set down her plate and gla.s.s, and took up the sandwich. Just when she thought she had picked a secluded spot without leaving the party completely, she saw Signy, like a red beacon, gliding toward her, a bright smile on her face and wine in hand.

"Diane. I'm glad you're alone. The party's great, but I'll bet you're frazzled."

It would have been rude to tie her to the bear and stuff an apple in her mouth, so Diane gave her the best smile she could manage.

"I'm holding up. I hope Mark had a chance to enjoy the exhibits before he had to leave." Diane took a bite of sandwich.

"Oh, he loved them." Signy sat down and nearly tipped her wine onto the platform, spilling a few drops, which started to run toward the middle of the exhibit. "Oops, good save," she said, giggling, catching it before losing the whole gla.s.s.

Diane wiped up the running spill with her napkin as Signy moved her China plate and winegla.s.s. Diane was wondering if she should have closed down the wine bar. She looked up, wine-stained napkin in hand, as Alix and Melissa approached, offering fresh napkins.

"Dr. Fallon, Mrs. Grayson. You're just the two we need to see."

Diane nodded a thank you and finished the cleanup. The two musicians began a two-p.r.o.nged conversation with her and Signy. Melissa asked about playing at a Junior League function of which Signy was an officer, and Alix seemed to be inquiring about a summer job.

Diane was grateful to have Signy Grayson's attention diverted from what she knew was going to be a pitch for her husband. As Melissa talked to Signy, Alix picked up Diane's plate and winegla.s.s and handed them to her as the violinist sat down on the exhibit platform opposite Diane.

"We've both had experience working at Disney World." She launched into an animated Disney World greeting, and Diane laughed. "They teach you to be very friendly," said Alix. "Melissa and I would really like to do something with the children's programs at the museum."

"Why don't you and Melissa bring your resumes by this week and leave them with Andie? Disney World has pretty tough standards-that's certainly in your favor-and we're looking for a.s.sistants for our docents, the tour guides. With your qualifications, there shouldn't be a problem. You will have to put in some time learning the exhibits."

"Great! You'll have our resumes tomorrow morning."

"It looks like with your music and a job at the museum, the two of you are going to be busy."

"Daddy always said that all play and no work makes one very poor." Alix rose and shook Diane's hand. "Thanks for everything you've done for us. Melissa, I think we'd better get back to our violins."

"Well," said Signy, watching the girls' retreating backs and retrieving her gla.s.s of wine, "they are certainly an energetic pair."

"Youth," said Diane.

Signy frowned, as if she'd been insulted, but after a moment her face brightened. "Diane, I wanted to give you a word to the wise. I really think you should give Mark's ideas some thought."

"Signy, do you really think Milo went forward with his plans"-Diane gestured, taking in the room-"without giving considerable thought to the alternatives? He looked into several possibilities before deciding to renovate this location. He considered it to be by far the best, and I agree."

"I'm just asking you to give it some more thought," said Signy. "Mark will win. He always does. That's all I'm going to say on the matter." She smiled and sipped her wine.

I'll drink to that last part, Diane thought, washing down a bite of sandwich with a drink. She managed to avoid discussing moving the museum with any would-be champions for Mark's cause for the remainder of the evening. Toward the end, as the guests were leaving, the string quartet entertained them with a little bluegra.s.s and jazz. It was a good ending to what was actually a successful evening, but one Diane was relieved was behind her. Diane thought, washing down a bite of sandwich with a drink. She managed to avoid discussing moving the museum with any would-be champions for Mark's cause for the remainder of the evening. Toward the end, as the guests were leaving, the string quartet entertained them with a little bluegra.s.s and jazz. It was a good ending to what was actually a successful evening, but one Diane was relieved was behind her.

When everyone had gone and only Leonard, the night guard, and the cleaning crew remained in the museum, Diane climbed into her car, almost too tired to drive home. Despite her exhaustion, she made it home without running her car into a tree, and went straight to bed without even expending the energy to take off her makeup. Cold crisp sheets on bare skin-it felt good. She slept until 7:30 in the morning-when the phone rang.

Chapter 7

"Did I wake you?" Frank's voice sounded like a rasp on sandstone.

"Frank, are you all right?" Diane asked.

"Can I come over?"

Diane hesitated a moment, filled with dread about hearing details of murder. But these were Frank's friends. And so was she. "Sure. I'll fix you breakfast," she said.

"I'll bring it. It's the least I can do for waking you up."

Diane jumped out of bed and into the shower. She had just pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt when the door-bell rang. After slicking her wet hair back with a comb, she opened the door.

Frank was in running sweats, but she could tell from the smell of shampoo that he hadn't been running. He set two sacks on the table. The bulky one was filled with doughnuts; the other with cups of coffee from Vance's Cafe.

"I'll make us some bacon and scrambled eggs to go with the doughnuts," she said.