Diane started at a sudden knock on Andie’s office door. “Dr. Fallon?”
Not Andie. But the voice through the closed door sounded familiar. Diane lay a piece of paper over the pictures.
“Yes?”
The door opened and the first and second violinists from the string quartet walked in, looking very different in their pantsuits than they had in the gowns they had worn at the reception. Melissa’s shoulder-length locks were now trimmed short. The hairstyle was becoming on her well-shaped head.
“Alix, Melissa. What can I do for you?” asked Diane.
They glanced at Frank, who rose and complimented their music.
“Sorry to disturb you, but there’s no one in the office,” Alix said, indicating Andie’s office.
“I’m sure Andie will be back shortly. Can I help you?”
They were silent for just a beat, glancing at each other before Alix spoke. “We just wanted to let you know we’ve been hired to assist the tour guides. We were told we need to fill out some papers.”
“Ms. Fielding also asked us to bring you this.”
Melissa’s sleeve slid up a fraction as she stretched her arm to hand a file folder to Diane. Diane noticed bruises on her forearm. She made a mental note to call Laura, and as quickly dismissed her concern about the bruises as probably nothing, and none of her business.
“Thanks. How do you think you’ll like your new jobs?” Diane opened the folder. A note attached to the first page said that it was paperwork for yet more duplicate orders for supplies.
Melissa’s smile made her look pixielike with her new cut. “Great. We start tomorrow learning the nature trail.”
“We really appreciate the jobs,” said Alix.
“The museum needs dedicated staff, so we’re glad to have you,” said Diane. “Melissa, I see you cut your hair. It looks very chic.”
“It looks good now,” said Alix. “You should have seen it when she first whacked it off. She looked like she’d been attacked by a weed eater. I had to even it up for her. I told her if she wants anything done right, don’t do it herself.”
Both girls laughed, and Diane looked forward to having the two of them around.
“I believe I hear Andie back. She’ll give you the forms to fill out.”
They closed the door behind them and Diane turned her attention to Frank.
“We need to go to the crime scene,” she said.
Chapter 12
There were two cars in the drive as Frank rounded the corner and drove up to the freshly painted two-story farmhouse.
“This place is so secluded in the woods, I’ve hired some security to keep anyone from taking things out of the house. It looks like that was a good plan. That’s the McFarlands.”
“George’s parents?”
“His mother. She married Gil about five years ago.”
As Frank parked the car Diane watched the couple arguing with the security guard, a large man who looked as though he should be able to handle himself. Clearly, however, he wanted to back away from the woman yelling at him. Crystal McFarland was a tall woman, cigarette thin, with hair as blond as yellow corn piled on top of her head. She had on snug-fitting coral capri pants of some shiny fabric. Her matching tank top was stretched tight across her chest, which, Diane guessed by the shape and cleavage, was as natural as the color of her hair. Despite her thin frame, the backs of her arms shook-along with her ornate earrings-as she punched the air with her fist in front of the guard.
Her husband, equally irate, was as lean as she and looked about ten years younger. His straight brown hair came just below his ears. He had on tight jeans and a torn white tee shirt. The mild kyphotic curve of his spine caused his long torso to look slightly concave. Diane guessed it was from years of poor posture and not congenital.
Diane and Frank got out of the car and Diane retrieved the suitcase of crime-scene paraphernalia. She’d had Frank stop by her apartment on the way so she could dig the case from the depths of her closet.
They started toward the house and as they neared, Diane noticed Gil McFarland’s hands were stained black with grease. Abruptly, as if the sound of closing car doors only now reached their ears, Crystal and Gil turned.
“This is your doing, Frank Duncan.” She came at him with her fists raised. “George was my son, my son, and this is my house, my house-do you hear? Mine.” She stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips. I’m going in my house and get my things.” Her body made a slight twist every time she said my. My house, my things, my son. They were all the same to her, Diane thought; possessions. Her son was murdered in this house and though understanding that grief manifested itself in many ways, Diane saw none in Crystal McFarland.
“This is Star’s house.” Frank was calmer than Diane thought she would have been. “And you will not take anything out of it. If you do, I’ll have you arrested.”
“You always was a turd, even when you was a little kid. Star was nothing to George. Those young ’uns was Louise’s doing. Couldn’t have ’em herself, so she takes someone else’s leavings and passes them off as theirs. I’m George’s blood. Star ain’t blood.”
“George loved Star. He left everything to her. I know, because I am the executor of his will, and I’m going to see that Star gets her inheritance.”
“You listen here.” Gil stepped up to Frank. “My wife’s got her rights.”
“Yes,” replied Frank. “I can’t disagree, but they don’t include taking Star’s possessions.”
“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” said Crystal. “Always a smarty-pants. Well you ain’t smart enough to steal what’s mine. I’m going to get me a lawyer and have you arrested.” She turned to Diane as if she had just now noticed her standing there.
“Who the hell are you?”
If this wasn’t so dreadfully serious, Diane would have laughed at the comic pair these two made. It occurred to her what Frank told her about Detective Janice Warrick allowing Gil McFarland into the crime scene. If she had done that, then she also may not have adequately interviewed him. Looking at Crystal and Gil standing there with their faces twisted in anger, the pair looked to her like suspects.
They’re off guard-the thought flashed through her mind and before she realized it, Diane made a decision to play a hunch. “I’m going to examine the crime scene for Star and her attorney. Since she’s innocent, we intend to find evidence of the guilty party. Considering the two of you don’t have alibis, I’d leave here and not cause trouble.” Frank glanced briefly at her and back at the McFarlands.
“What do you mean we don’t have alibis?” screeched Crystal. “We were together-all day and all night.”
“That’s what I mean,” said Diane, pushing. “You alibi each other. That’s not really an alibi, is it?”
“Listen here. Just what are you saying?” asked Gil. “We didn’t have nothing to do with this. We. . we was at a car show.”
“Yeah,” agreed Crystal, “a car show.”
“What car show? Why didn’t you tell the police?”
“They didn’t ask, Miss Smarty-Pants.”
“So you made that up just now.” Diane pressed her advantage. “Making something up on the spur of the moment won’t do any good. At an event like a car show, many people would have seen you. You won’t be able to find any because you weren’t there.”
“Now just how the hell do you know?” said Gil. “You sure as hell wasn’t with us.”
“She’s right.” The McFarlands whirled around at the sound of a new voice in the argument. The security guard Frank hired had come up and stood just a few feet away. He had a thin smile that threatened to break into a grin. “I’m what my wife calls a car nut. I go to and organize car shows, and I know there wasn’t any in the South-east then.”