One Grave Too Many by Beverly Connor Page B

behind the museum. Diane threaded her way through the crowd toward them.
    “Diane, dear. I wondered where you’d got to. I just met the most disagreeable young woman. Flashing around like a red sparkler. Called me by my first name. Mark Grayson’s wife. The man has no taste. I guess I shouldn’t speak like this in front of the boy. Just ignore what I say, young man.”
    Kevin cackled. Diane kissed her cheek.
    “It’s good to see you, Vanessa. May I steal you away from Kevin for a moment?”
    “Certainly. Can you pause that thing, young man?” Vanessa Van Ross and Diane stepped away to a private corner.
    “I know nothing about real estate,” Diane said. “Can you tell me why this land is suddenly so valuable? Why does Mark want it so badly?”
    “Did you know Hollis MacElroy?”
    “I’ve heard the name. Farmer, owns a lot of land?”
    Vanessa nodded. “ Owned . He died three months ago. When his will is probated, his heirs intend to put his land on the market. It’s considered prime real estate, and it borders the museum property. If they get a good price for it—and they will—this property will increase in value considerably. Rumor has it that a Japanese firm is looking at it for a golf course and country club.”
    “I’m beginning to see.” Diane looked at her watch. It was a little after 8:30 P.M. Mark would be back at his office before 9:00 P.M. for his overseas call. She did some quick calculations. That would make it midmorning in Japan. So, Mark was talking to Japanese businessmen about the museum property. She looked around the room and wondered how many were on Mark’s side.
    She turned back to Vanessa. “But there couldn’t possibly be enough money involved to pay for moving the museum, setting it up someplace else, and still make it worthwhile for Mark’s cronies.”
    “Not unless the museum is shortchanged. That’s the only way I see it working. But I assure you, my dear, I’ll never let that happen. Come, take your mind off that for now. Enjoy your party. You deserve it.”
    Diane tried shoving Mark Grayson’s scheming, the incident with the music and the duplicate purchases to the back of her mind. She tried not to think about Frank and what he must be going through—seeing friends, a whole family, wiped out, murdered. The things she tried not to think about were beginning to pile up into an impossible mountain of forbidden thoughts. It wasn’t easy to mingle, make small talk and laugh with so much in her head to keep at bay.
    She stood watching the party for the thousandth time, scanning the crowd, looking for some suspicious person who might be an enemy. Donald was talking to the students who had put together the sloth. He was number one on her list for the duplicate orders. Signy was by the bar getting a refill of wine.
    Laura Hillard was talking with the archivist and one of the new curators next to the refreshment table still heaped with food. Seeing Laura reminded Diane that she wanted to mention Melissa’s black eye. She approached Laura and pulled her away with apologies.
    “You know Melissa Gallagher’s family, don’t you?”
    “I know them well. Wonderful people.”
    “I noticed that she has a black eye. It may have been a simple accident, but I’m a suspicious person. A consequence of my previous career.”
    Laura turned her blond head toward the quartet and back to Diane. “I see what you mean. It wouldn’t be her parents. I’d have known. You’re thinking boyfriend, maybe?”
    “I don’t know,” Diane said. “People do get black eyes accidently.”
    “I’ll mention it to her parents.” Both watched Melissa playing her violin. “I tend to think it’s probably nothing.” Laura’s gaze lingered on Melissa a moment before she turned her attention back to Diane. “Mark Grayson’s made headway with some of the board members.”
    “Won’t do any good unless he makes headway with me.”
    “He knows that. He wants to put pressure on you from all