One Grave Less

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Authors: Beverly Connor
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jumped as if Diane had goosed her.
    “Oh, I have to go,” she said. “Nice speaking with you, Vanessa, Laura.” She smiled weakly at Diane and hurried off.
    Madge was in her forties but sometimes acted like a seventh grader. And all her friends, like Laura and Vanessa, unwittingly encouraged her by coddling her. At least that’s what Diane thought.
    All of them were also old Rosewood several generations back. Nearly all the “old” families had strong bonds among them. But still, Diane had no idea why they excused Madge’s bad behavior. She wasn’t a stupid woman by any means. She was a talented artist. She also seemed to be everyone’s baby sister.
    “I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” said Diane. “But I see you’ve been entertained by the latest gossip.”
    Diane sat down opposite Laura and Vanessa. Laura had redone her blond hair in a short pixielike cut. It looked good with her small face . . . which was frowning at the moment. Vanessa’s platinum white hair was in a smooth French twist. It gave her face a tranquil look, even with her piercing blue eyes.
    Diane and Laura were childhood friends. When Diane was twelve years old, her father moved the family to Tennessee, but she and Laura remained friends. Diane returned to Rosewood briefly when she was in high school to take accelerated college courses from Milo Lorenzo. That’s when she met Vanessa, who was a friend of Milo. It was Milo who later hired Diane as assistant director of the museum. When he was felled by a heart attack, Diane became director of the museum.
    “Vanessa told Madge not to go around repeating rumors, and to remember Kendel,” said Laura.
    Diane fingered the menu, pretending to look at it, not wanting to look at her friends. Not because she was embarrassed by rumors, but because of a free-floating annoyance she was feeling lately toward everyone she knew.
    “Kendel is still suffering fallout from the gossip Madge spread about her,” said Diane.
    “I told her that unlike Kendel, you would probably sue her,” said Vanessa.
    “I would,” said Diane.
    “I don’t think she’ll say anything to anyone else,” said Laura.
    Diane looked up from the menu, having decided she would order red meat when the waitstaff came. She was angry with Laura. She wasn’t sure why; perhaps today she was just tired of Laura’s always trying to smooth things over. Sometimes things didn’t need smoothing over.
    “She will gossip,” said Diane. “It’s in her nature as it’s in the nature of the scorpion to sting.”
    “Now, Diane,” clucked Laura.
    “Did she tell you I found her in the supply closet eavesdropping on my conversation with Martin?”
    The two of them raised their eyebrows. Laura had a drink halfway to her lips. Vanessa put her head in her hand and groaned.
    “What did she say to you exactly?” Diane asked them.
    “I don’t think that would help . . . ,” began Laura.
    Diane put a hand on her forearm. “It would help. This is my reputation, my career. I need to know the kind of life this rumor is taking on.” She looked directly in Laura’s eyes. “This can’t be smoothed over. It has to be dealt with.”
    “She’s right,” said Vanessa. She lifted a hand and waved for the waitress. “But let us order first. I’m very hungry.”
    Laura and Vanessa both ordered the salmon. Diane ordered a filet, rare. After the waitress brought the drinks, Diane looked at Laura.
    Laura sighed. “She said 48 Hours is looking to do an exposé on your drug dealings in South America.”
    Diane shook her head. “That’s not even the right media.” She told them about Martin Thormond’s call from Brian Mathews.
    “Brian Mathews is a travel reporter,” said Vanessa.
    “Yes, he is,” said Diane. “He is currently in Peru reporting.”
    “I don’t understand,” said Laura. “He called Martin from Peru? Why Martin? Why didn’t he call you? Or Vanessa? Or the police, even? I mean, if he heard some rumor in

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