No Mortal Reason by Kathy Lynn Emerson

She’d almost reached the site when her uncle held up his find. Now she sprinted across the short distance remaining and seized the prize from his hand. It was plain to Diana that she’d already recognized it, but for a moment Mercy just stared at the object she held, an expression of shocked disbelief on her face. When she turned on her father, her scowl was ferocious and her voice razor-sharp.
    “This was my mother’s locket! How could you give it to someone else?”
    In silent appeal, Uncle Howd reached out to her, but Cousin Mercy backed away, evading his touch. She would have stalked off the construction site, taking the necklace with her, if Ben had not caught her elbow.
    He spoke softly to her as he gently pried the bit of jewelry from her clenched fist. By then, Diana had moved near enough to overhear what he said.
    “That’s evidence, Miss Grant. You need to leave it here.”
    “Evidence of what? An old man’s foolishness? A father’s betrayal?” Her voice became more shrill with every word.
    One of the anonymous workmen answered her. “That’s evidence of murder, that is. Them bones didn’t get there by themselves.” He looked at Howd Grant when he said it, suspicion writ large on his bovine countenance.
    This was not good, Diana thought, taking another step toward her cousin. Not good at all. At best, her new-found family was about to face an uncomfortable inquisition from the authorities and a lot of unwelcome publicity. At worst, her Uncle Howd might be arrested for murder.
    “Damn,” Sebastian muttered.
    Diana had forgotten all about him, but he was still at her side. She thought at first that he’d sworn because he’d come to the same conclusion she had, but his attention was focused on two women who had just rounded the corner from the back of the hotel and were fast approaching the group around the hole. 
    “I beg your pardon, Diana,” Sebastian said. “That was no language to use in front of a lady, but here’s more trouble coming. Can you keep Mercy away from Mrs. Lyseth? I’d better go find her husband.”
    Although Diana did not entirely understand why Mercy and the victim’s mother needed to be kept apart, she saw the sense in locating the dead woman’s father without delay. Besides, she was glad of something useful to do. “Which one is Mrs. Lyseth?”
    “She’s the younger of the two. The other is my aunt, Tressa Ellington. She’s my father’s oldest sister and housekeeper here.”
    The two women were dressed nearly alike, one in brown and biscuit plaid, the other in gray. Both wore white lawn caps that nearly covered their hair, but there the similarity stopped. One moved with a determined, ground-eating stride across the grass. As she came closer, Diana saw that in spite of long skirts and tight corseting, this exertion didn’t even have her breathing hard. The other woman had to struggle to keep up. She was a pear-shaped individual, not as tall as her companion, but considerably more stout. Her face might have been pretty once. Now any beauty was overshadowed by bags under the eyes and a wobbly double chin. She was puffing and panting as she scurried across the lawn.
    Four men caught up with the two women just as Diana intercepted them. They were, Diana supposed, the neighbors. Word of the grim discovery had doubtless already spread throughout Lenape Springs.
    Diana approached the taller of the two women. She had the sort of bone structure that made it difficult to guess her age, but the few salt-and-pepper curls that did show beneath the frilled edge of her cap suggested that she was older than her energetic movements would indicate. “Mrs. Ellington?”
    She’d guessed right. Tressa Ellington nodded. “What have they found?”
    Diana led her a little aside, glad to see that one of the newcomers, a man with a beard like a thicket, dressed in a black, shad-bellied coat and wearing a broad-brimmed, well-crowned black hat, had engaged Mrs. Lyseth’s attention. In a