One Grave Too Many
Diane’s plate and wineglass 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 résumés 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 assistants 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 résumés 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 glass 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 bluegrass 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 Café.
    “I’ll make us some bacon and scrambled eggs to go with the doughnuts,” she said.
    She also put on a pot of coffee. Why Frank liked Vance’s coffee was a mystery. To say it tasted like dredge from the Chattahoochee River was giving it flattery it didn’t deserve.
    Diane microwaved strips of bacon while she

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