One Grave Too Many Read Online Free PDF

office. He moved a pile of books from the only chair besides hers and dropped them in an empty box. Diane noted ruefully that it was the box the books had arrived in. She took a seat at her desk and pulled out the budget folders but didn’t open them. Instead, she gave Donald her attention.
    He glanced down at the folders before he spoke. “Some building plans have come to my attention.”
    Diane started to laugh at the way he made it sound as if he were in charge and speaking to a recalcitrant employee. She forced her face to remain in what she hoped was a frown.
    “Came to your attention? How?”
    “That’s not important.”
    “It is important. This discussion will end now unless you tell me.”
    He shifted in the chair as if suddenly off balance. “We can’t afford to start a new building project. This building is too big already,” he said, leaning forward with his hands gripping the arms of the chair.
    Diane stood up. “Donald, I’m too busy for this now.”
    “I found a copy in the waste can by the Xerox machine,” he said quickly. The way the barely articulated words slid out of his lips so fast, she knew he was lying.
    Diane narrowed her eyes. “Do you have the adult education exhibit ready for this evening?”
    “It’s almost finished. The computer people are setting it up. The plans—”
    “Go supervise their work.”
    He hesitated a moment, then stood. “This isn’t the end of this. After tonight, you will have this discussion with me and the board.”
    Diane stared at her closed door for several moments after he left. Maybe she should have talked to him. Milo’s plans for the museum weren’t secret, but Donald must have thought they were her plans. He must have been poking around in her office. She opened the folder and reread the budget figures. Money would certainly come up this evening and she wanted to be prepared. She could deal with Donald later.
    The phone rang. She let it go for several rings and picked up the receiver when no one answered.
    “RiverTrail Museum.”
    “This is the Bickford Museum, confirming an order placed with us. May I speak with Diane Fallon?”
    “This is she. What order are you confirming?” Diane searched her memory, trying to remember what might have been ordered.
    “Casts of Albertosaurus , Pteranodon sternbergi, Tylosaurus , and a triceratops, for a total of 143,500 dollars.”
    “Oh, yes. We received the items in perfect condition. The display is opening this evening. I’m sure our records show that the invoice has been paid. I reviewed the accounts myself.”
    “No, you’re correct, payment was received. This is a new order.”
    Diane stared into space, shocked for a moment. “For the same items?”
    “Yes, identical to the first order.”
    “When was this order placed?”
    “It’s dated last Wednesday. We saw that we had shipped an order for the same items to RiverTrail Museum six months ago, so I’m calling to verify that this is not a duplicate of that order.”
    “I’m glad you called. There has been some mix-up. How did you receive this order?”
    “By fax.”
    “Please cancel the order, and if you don’t mind, would you fax a copy of that order back to me so that I can straighten it out here?”
    “Certainly. I’ll send the fax right now.”
    Diane put down the receiver and sat at her desk for a moment, trying to imagine how duplicate orders of a purchase that large and that unique could have been made. She tried buzzing Andie, then remembered that she had gone out to speak with the caterers. She walked into Andie’s office just as the fax was arriving from Bickford. The order was as the man had said, placed the past Wednesday. It showed Diane’s name—and her signature. She punched in the number code to print the recent history of fax transmissions and tried to make some sense out of the order while she waited. Had she actually forgotten and duplicated the order? No, she couldn’t possibly have forgotten; she already had