One Grave Too Many
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 bluegrass 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, 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, Jurassic 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,

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