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much like Ellie Rose in the face that it startled Diane.
Samantha, dear, why don t you fix your mother a glass
of tea? said Wendy.
DUST TO DUST 145
Samantha looked at her mother. Do you want some tea,
Mom? she asked.
That would be nice, hon, she said.
Samantha skipped off to another part of the house.
You have a very pretty daughter, said Diane.
At least she likes pink, said her mother.
Diane thought she saw a hint that at one time Marsha
Carruthers may have had a sense of humor.
It was not our intention to cause you more pain, said
Diane, but it is important to find out what happened to
Stacy.
She took a card from her pocket. She had brought the
cards that identified her as director of the Aidan Kavanagh
Forensic Anthropology Lab, the osteology lab she ran at
the museum. It seemed a much better choice of card to give
out with her name on it. Museum director would have been
confusing, and director of the crime lab would be awkward,
since she wasn t representing Rosewood. In her capacity
as forensic anthropologist, she had much more freedom.
Sometimes she felt like a con artist with all the different
cards she had with different professions.
Kingsley handed her his card along with Diane s. Please
call if you remember anything that might help, Kingsley
said. He nodded to Wendy. We can show ourselves out.
They turned to leave.
Why haven t the police contacted us? asked Marsha.
So they finally thought to ask, thought Diane.
Kingsley turned back to her. I m sure they will. Right
now they may not know where Stacy s investigation led
her, he said.
I didn t think private investigators could investigate an
open case, said Wendy.
Samantha came in with her mother s tea and gave it to
her. Marsha gave it to Wendy, who took it to the liquor
cabinet and set it on top, turned, and looked at Kingsley
for an answer.
That s a popular misconception, he said. We just can t
get in their way. Kingsley looked at each of them and nod-
ded. He and Diane left.
You finessed that well, said Diane when they reached
the car.
146 Beverly Connor
It wouldn t have done to tell them that, at the moment,
the police are calling her death an accident, Kingsley said,
almost absently.
He frowned and looked back at the house. Diane got in
and closed the door.
There s a note on your seat, she said when he opened
his door to get in.
Kingsley picked it up and read it out loud. Lakeshore
Mall. Cookie Company. Now. Please. Thanks.
Not signed? said Diane.
It s from Samantha, said Kingsley. Of course, when I
met her, she was the drummer s cousin.
Diane looked at him, perplexed. She s Stacy s drummer s
cousin?
She told the police she was. I think we need to go to the
mall, he said.
He started to pull out of the drive just as a blue Volks-
wagen Phaeton pulled up, blocking them. A man jumped
out, slammed his car door, and came marching up to the
driver s side of their car. He looked in his late forties or
early fifties. A slight bulge hung over his belt. He wore dark
blue suit pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up,
and a light blue tie, loosened. He banged on the roof of
Kingsley s car with his palms.
Diane got out of the car and looked over the roof at
him. Kingsley got out on the other side. They stood face-
to-face.
What the hell do you think you re doing, coming around
here harassing my family? he said.
We were not harassing, said Kingsley. We were ask-
ing questions about a young woman who visited here about
four weeks ago.
You have no business here. I called the police to see
what this was about, and they said the woman s death was
an accident, he said. So what are you playing at?
His face was so red Diane was a little concerned. His
comb-over fell into his face and he pushed it back.
It wasn t an accident, said Kingsley. But as to your
complaint, we were not harassing your family. We were
speaking with your wife in the presence of your neighbor.
148 Beverly Connor
You aren t to set foot on my property again. Is that
clear? he said.
We won t need to, said Kingsley. The police will be
handling it from here.
If it wasn t an accident, the police would have told me.
You think you know something they don t? he asked.
Dad, I need to go to the library. Samantha stood a few
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