Dust to Dust Read Online Free PDF Page B

the desk?” she asked.
    Neva nodded. “All the drawers are empty. I haven’t yet dusted for prints there or on the hutch.”
    Just in front of the desk, surrounded by small flags that the forensics crew used to mark notable features at the crime scene, was a dark stain on the floor, almost invisible because of the dark wood. Blood, Diane realized. Marcella’s blood. There wasn’t a large pool of it. The stain was about the size of a large dinner plate. This was where Marcella was felled, thought Diane, about the time she and Frank were at the benefit at Bartrum listening to a speech about funding for the arts.
    Neva and Izzy had marked a clear path through the house with flags. This was the walk zone they examined first so they could move about the house without contaminating evidence. Diane walked into the dining room. The odor of food was stronger here. Marcella had been cooking a Mexican dinner. She was expecting company. The table was set for two. The candle in the center of the table had burned down and the pool of wax around the wick had hardened.
    Diane heard Izzy working in the nearby room, probably where the most recent intruders had entered. She didn’t like two crime scenes—the attack on Marcella, and the recent deadly trespass—intertwined with each other. It confused things trying to distinguish one crime scene from the other. Jonas Briggs, her good friend, chess partner, and archaeology curator, wouldn’t be quite so daunted. Archaeologists are accustomed to working sites that are one on top of the other and that leave the archaeologists to make sense of the layers.
    Jonas Briggs , she thought. He was probably the one having dinner with Marcella. They were good friends. He may have found her. That would make Jonas a suspect to Hanks. Diane fished her cell from her pocket.

Chapter 5
    Diane started to key Jonas Briggs’ number, but stopped and retraced her steps to the living room. Neva was rolling up the film of the boot print and sliding it into a tube.
    “Neva, you said the policeman didn’t know who found Marcella. Is that right?”
    Neva looked up and nodded. “That’s what he said. The two policemen are with David, searching the woods for evidence. You could call him.”
    “I didn’t know David was here. I didn’t see his car,” said Diane.
    “He arrived a little bit ago. It was getting crowded near the house, so he parked on down the drive,” said Neva. She gestured out the window in the direction of the driveway. “Did you find something?” Neva put away the film tube and picked up the case with the electrostatic lifting device.
    “No, I just thought of something. Jonas might have been the one who discovered Marcella,” began Diane.
    Neva opened her mouth in surprise, wrinkled her brow, and looked in the direction of the dining room. “She was having someone for dinner. And they were . . . It could be Jonas. I didn’t think about that.”
    “I’ll call him,” said Diane.
    She punched in the number of his cell. No answer. She tried his home. No answer there either. She called his cell again and left a message asking him to call her.
    “No luck?” Neva, still with the anxious expression on her face, stood with the electrostatic device under her arm.
    “He may be at the hospital,” said Diane. “His cell may be turned off. I left him a message.”
    “Of course,” said Neva. “That’s where he would be.”
    Diane didn’t know why she was so worried, but she was. She called David’s cell.
    “Hey, Diane. Hear you’ve had one of your usual evenings out,” he said.
    “It has been interesting. Found anything?”
    “Shell casings. Maybe we’ll get lucky with them. One of the policemen tells me there’s an old road back behind the house. That’s probably where they parked. We’ll be looking there next.”
    “Do you know who found Marcella Payden?” asked Diane.
    “No. When the call came I recognized the address. I did some computer work for her out here,” he