Dead Secret
leaned her back against him before the faces he was making caused her to burst out laughing.
    Gregory chuckled. “I don’t think he expects that. John doesn’t believe in witches. Legends aside, he would like to know something about his skeleton.”
    “I’ll be glad to look at the bones. But tell me, there are plenty of forensic anthropologists in the UK; why—”
    “Is he sending it across the ocean? That’s where the story gets a little more bizarre.”
    “It gets more bizarre?”
    Frank began massaging her shoulders and neck. He is really is good at this, thought Diane as she moved her shoulders under his grip.
    “There are two other parties interested in possessing the bones. One party is the owner of Moonhater Cave. It is one of several caves in the area that are tourist attractions. It has the pillar of the unfortunate girl.”
    “The pillar of salt she turned into? It’s in the cave?”
    Frank stopped and turned so that he could see her face. His eyes twinkled the way they did when he was about to hear the punch line of a joke. Diane smiled at him and pointed to her shoulders. He rolled his eyes and resumed kneading her muscles.
    “Yes. It’s actually a rather large column formation that had the good or bad luck, depending on your perspective, to have a vague resemblance to a woman. The image has been enhanced by the creative use of a chisel and sandpaper. Whoever it was did quite a good job, actually—subtle, made good use of the natural form of the stone for her flowing gown.”
    “And the cave owner wants the bones back to go with his statue.”
    “Yes. Sort of keep the family together.”
    “Who’s the other party?” asked Diane.
    “A handful of Druids or Wiccans. Marguerite tells me there’s a difference, but I don’t know what it is. They claim the bones are of an ancestor. Of course, given that they found a descendent of nine-thousand-year-old Cheddar Man, that very well could be true.”
    “Cheddar Man was found somewhere near you, wasn’t he?”
    “Close. In Somerset, actually, in Cheddar. Somerset also has a cave with a statue of sorts, only this one is of a witch who was turned to stone by a monk. There are bones associated with it too—which are owned by a museum in Somerset. The Somerset cave owner is trying to get those bones back. Probably where the Moonhater Cave owner got the idea. Caves with stories are rather popular here.”
    “So he thinks the Druids—or Wiccans—or this other cave owner might try to steal them?”
    “He’s afraid they might. The Wiccans involved are some kind of outcast coven, or whatever, it seems. They threatened John with black magic—something that’s prohibited by the Wiccan home office, apparently. Anyway, John feels his bones would be safer if they were examined in the U.S., and I told him I’d help. So . . .”
    “Sure, I’ll help.”
    “Great! John will be delighted. I thought you would, so I took the liberty of telling him to go ahead and send them. They are already on their way. John said he’ll call. He wants to talk with you before you actually do the analysis.”
    “Does he know if the bones were actually found in the cave?”
    “No.”
    “I’ll need samples of soil from the cave.”
    There was a pause for a moment. “A sample will be sent along to you shortly with the bones.”
    “Why does it sound like there is a story there?”
    “Because I collected the sample. Marguerite and I went on a tour of the Moonhater Cave. And I surreptitiously collected a sample from the floor. Marguerite said I was disgraceful. The owner has some strict rules about carrying things out of the cave, but she provided the distraction—quite shameful, really.”
    Diane laughed out loud at the image of the very proper Gregory and his wife on a mission, stealing dirt from a cave. “How did Mr. Rose acquire the bones?”
    “Bought them from a family who had them in a box in their basement for about a hundred years—that is, they were in the

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