Josie was talking on the telephone, so Keely went and sat down in the chair in the outer office beside Josie's desk. This was her second stop. She had gone to the police station first in search of an inventory of Maureen's belongings from her house. Keely claimed helplessly that she needed to consult such a list because she had lost her smoky quartz bracelet there during last night's incident. A cooperative sergeant said that he would not be able to show her the list, but he consulted it for her and found that no, a smoky quartz bracelet was not on it.

Keely felt like she had arrived at the end of the trail. If she could not find her answer here, she didn't know where else to look. When she heard Josie hang up, Keely rose from the chair and walked to the open door of Maureen's private office.

Josie looked up at Keely, trying to maintain a businesslike demeanor. "Mrs. Weaver," she said. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I overheard you talking about the funeral," said Keely carefully, chastened by the sight of the secretary's obvious grief. "I can see you're upset."

"I still can hardly believe it," Josie admitted. "She's going to be buried tomorrow morning, beside her twin brother."

Keely nodded. "It's terrible. They both died so young. Didn't I . . ." she almost saidreadand then realized that Josie would probably be familiar with that horrible newspaper article. Quickly, Keely amended her question. "Wasn't he . . . um. . . didn't I hear he was murdered?"

Josie squinted at the photo of the redhaired children on the desk."Well, not murdered. I remember when it happened. I was just a kid myself at the time. Sean and some other boys were trick-or-treating. A bunch of teenagers were using firecrackers and Sean got too close. It was a terrible accident. Sean was only about ten when he died. Maureen could never really accept his death because it was so senseless, and she needed someone to blame. But it was just an accident. Still, he was her twin. She adored him."

"It must have been very difficult," Keely agreed.

Josie sighed. "Maureen experienced a lot of suffering in her life."

"Tragic," said Keely carefully. "I'm sure you heard that I found her . . . in the garage."

"That's what Detective Stratton said." Josie shook her head sadly. "I can't get over it. If only she had called me or someone else. She didn't have a lot of friends. No other family. She was kind of a lonely person. But to do that, to kill herself . . ."

"Oh, I know. It's a terrible shock," Keely said sincerely.

Josie sighed. "Yes," she said. "I guess you probably do." Forcing herself-to be businesslike again, she said, "Mrs. Weaver, what can I do for you?"

"Miss Fiore . . ." Keely began.

Josie waited.

Keely had practiced what to say on the way over here in the car, but now that she was facing Maureen's loyal a.s.sistant, it was more difficult than she had imagined. "Look, I realize that you were very fond of Miss Chase . . ."

"Yes, I was. She was a good person to work for," said Josie evenly.

"I can see that," said Keely. "And I'm sure that you were . . . close to her and probably knew a lot about what she was doing."

Josie regarded Keely with narrowed eyes. "She kept me up to date," Josie said.

"All right, look," said Keely. "I'll be honest with you. Someone told me something very disturbing. About Ms. Chase, and my husband . . ."

"Oh, no you don't," said Josie. "I'm not getting into this. Please, Mrs. Weaver. I have a lot to do here."

"I know this is a bad time . . ."

Josie bustled around from behind Maureen's desk and moved toward the office doorway, forcing Keely to back out into the reception area. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't have anything to tell you."

"I need to know . . ."

"Why? What good would it do? It's over. They're both gone. It's in the past."

"I just need to know," Keely pleaded. "Did you ever see her wearing a smoky quartz bracelet with gold links? Can you tell me that at least?"

"Don't try to drag me into this. I can't help you," Josie insisted.

"It's a simple question!"

"Anything I know about Ms. Chase stays with me. Unlike some people, I'm not going to stab her in the back just because she can't defend herself anymore. Please leave me alone."

Keely took a deep breath and turned away. She could see that the young woman had made up her mind. It wouldn't help to badger her. She would have to find another way. "I'm sorry I bothered you," she said.

Josie nodded curtly but did not reply. Keely hesitated, hoping for some sign that the secretary was weakening, but Josie's shoulders were stiff. Sighing, Keely turned and headed toward the elevator. Then suddenly, she changed her mind and walked down the hall to the women's rest room and went inside. Before she pushed the door open, she looked back. Josie was pulling the door to Maureen's office shut and putting a key in the lock. She looked up grimly at Keely as she rattled the doork.n.o.b to be sure it was locked. Keely lowered her gaze and entered the rest room, took a paper towel, wet it, and patted her cheeks, her neck, and her forehead. She felt almost feverish from the tumult inside of her.The secretary knows, but she's not going to tell. Theanswer is probably right there, in Maureen's office, but it might as well be on Mars,she thought.

As she came out of the rest room, Keely saw Josie close her desk drawer, pick up her pocketbook, and walk toward the elevator doors. Keely went over to the drinking fountain and bent over for a long drink, waiting until she heard the pinging that indicated that the elevator had arrived at the floor. She stood up and listened until she heard the heavy roll of the metal doors opening and then closing again. Keely walked back down the hallway. There was no one waiting outside the elevator. Josie Fiore had disappeared. Keely walked over to Josie's desk and looked at the humming computer, an open box of powdered sugar doughnuts, the pile of folders. Keely wondered if maybe the key to Maureen's office was in the desk drawer. Keely glanced up and down the hall, but the corridor was deserted. Quickly, she slipped into Josie's seat and opened the desk drawer, her heart pounding. Her mouth was dry as she scanned the shallow, compartmentalized s.p.a.ce. There were every sort of pen and pencil, erasers, rubber bands and a huge variety of clips, takeout menus and lottery tickets. But there was no key, or set of keys, in evidence.

d.a.m.n,Keely thought.She must have taken them with her. She knew I was still on the floor and she wasn't about to take a chance.

There had to be another way to get into Maureen's private sanctum. Keely opened her own pocketbook, took out her cosmetic bag, and unzipped it. She sorted through the contents until she came up with a metal nail file that she kept in the bag but rarely used.Maybe this will work,she thought. In the movies, people were always opening locks with a nail file. Keely looked up and down the hallway, and then, nail file in hand, she went to the door of Maureen's office, inserted the file, and began to jiggle the handle. It wouldn't budge. She crouched down, examining the doork.n.o.b and the keyhole, trying to figure out the angle at which to insert the nail file to pop the lock. So absorbed was she in her task that she did not notice, until it was too late, a young man in shirtsleeves, pushing a wheeled cart of mail, who had walked up behind her.

"Can I help you?" he asked suspiciously.

Keely jumped, pocketed the nail file, and then scrambled to her feet. "Oh, no," she said. "I . . ." She stalled, knowing she had to make up an excuse now. "I dropped my . . . contact lens. I wonder if . . . um . . . you've seen Josie anywhere around." Keely hoped the use of first names would convey a convincing familiarity.

"I imagine she's out to lunch," he said, carefully placing some envelopes down on Josie's desk.

The young man disappeared down the hall. Keely felt humiliated, having been caught in that position. At least he didn't call security on her.

This must be how a drug addict feels,she thought,nerves jittery, watching your back, and nothing matters but the fix, and you'll do anything to get it. Get a grip, Keely,she told herself.Are you really willing to break into the district attorney's office to try to find out if your husband was cheating on you? If you get caught rooting around here where you don't belong, imagine the embarra.s.sment of it. Or worse. And for what? To find out for certain that Mark was a cheater? You already know he was a liar-and possibly a killer. Is it so important to add adulterer to the list? Why don't you just accept it and move on?

But it was so hard to accept. She and Mark had been happy. She had been so sure it was real. And all that time, had Mark longed for a more tempestuous life? Some danger, as he had said to Betsy, to improve the view? Keely felt as if everything she knew about her marriage had been undermined. Part of her just wanted to wallow in the humiliation of it, flog herself for having been so blind. But this was not, she thought, looking around her, the time or the place to do that.

Replacing the file in her pocketbook, she started to get up from Josie's desk. As she swung her pocketbook over her shoulder, it toppled the pile of manila envelopes that the young man had just delivered. As Keely hurried to put the pile back in order, she saw the wordsre: Weaver and Bennettscrawled at the top of one of the envelopes. Her hand hesitated over it for a moment, and then she dislodged it from the others and stared at it. The envelope was closed with a folded metal hasp. She stood there holding it for a moment. Despite her resolve toend her snooping, she could not turn away from it. She sat back down, unfolded the hasp, and pulled out the papers inside. Keely was startled to recognize the page of Richard's note which Dylan had printed, the page she had brought to Maureen Chase yesterday. There was a paper clip at the top of the page and handwriting scrawled on the bottom of the note.

Keely frowned and tried to decipher the handwriting. Maureen's penmanship was difficult to read. "Josie," it said. "Write me up . . ." Keely could not read the rest of the sentence.

Keely folded the page over and examined the page beneath it. The report was marked, at the top, as "remains, unidentified," and it emanated from the medical examiner's office. The report described the bloated remains of a twenty-two-year-old pregnant Caucasian female. The body was found by a fisherman out on the bay in an advanced state of decomposition. Keely looked at the date of the report. The remains were found eighteen years ago.

Keely folded the page back, then looked at Richard's note again and Maureen's scrawl beneath it. Shock raced through her as she understood the connection. Maureen had seemed cynical and uninterested when Keely brought her the letter. But obviously, she had taken it seriously. Richard's letter had caused Maureen to search the files for unsolved cases.

My G.o.d,Keely thought, rocking back in Josie's chair. Maureen Chase believed what Richard said in his suicide note. She had pulled this case as a result of reading the letter. But why this case? The note hadn't said anything about a young woman. Was it possible that there were no other unsolved murders at the time when Richard and Mark were friends and living in this town? What else could it be?

Keely lifted the M.E.'s report. Beneath it there was an exhumation order. Keely looked back at the first page, and now, she was able to decipher Maureen's illegible scribble.

An exhumation. Maureen had been planning to dig up these old bones. To make an identification.

"Excuse me," said a deep voice.

Her face red with guilt, Keely looked up. Standing in front of thedesk, nervously toying with a mangy purple velvet ring box, was a young man with mocha-colored skin, a head full of dreadlocks, and sea green eyes. He was wearing an expensive-looking leather coat. Keely stared at him. Obviously the young man did not recognize Keely, but she immediately remembered him from Lucas's office.

"I'm here to see Miss Chase," he said in a British accent.

Keely hesitated, carefully replacing the papers in the manila envelope. "I guess you haven't heard," she said.

The young man frowned. "I'm sorry," he said. "Heard what?"

Keely refastened the hasp. "I'm afraid Ms. Chase has . . . I'm afraid she's dead."

The young man's eyes widened in disbelief. "Dead? That's not possible. I just spoke to her yesterday afternoon. She was perfectly fine."

"I'm afraid it's true," said Keely gently. "She . . . took her own life."

"Oh, no. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," he said. He shifted the small velvet box nervously from one hand to the other. Keely noticed that he wore a number of rings on his long fingers and that his nails were flawlessly shaped and buffed. "I don't understand. She was a young woman."

"I think she was . . . grieving," said Keely. She set the envelope back down on the desk.

"She told me to come today," he said, shaking his head.

"I know. It was a shock for everyone."

"I mean . . . it's terrible, of course," he said.

"Yes," said Keely. "Tragic, really. Well," she said, standing up. "If you'll excuse me, I'd better be going."

"Don't you work here?" he asked.

Keely sighed. "Oh no. I was just looking for something . . . something of mine. I thought Ms. Chase might have . . ."

"Unfinished business," he said grimly.

"Something like that," Keely admitted. The young man nodded."Right. Hmmm. I don't know what I'm going to do with this now." He opened the velvet box and frowned at its contents. "Do you suppose her successor will carry out her intentions?"

"I don't know," said Keely. "I imagine so. Why? What have you got there?"

He turned it toward her, and Keely leaned forward to look into the box, expecting to see some piece of jewelry. Instead, lying on the stained, cream-colored satin inside the box was something that looked like a small, discolored white pebble.

"What is it?" Keely asked.

The young man turned the box back around and stared wistfully at its contents. "It's a tooth," he said.

42.

Atooth?"

"A milk tooth, actually."

"A baby tooth," said Keely.

"Yes. Right. Same thing," said the young man absently.

Keely stared at him. "What did she want with that?"

"Hmmm?" said the young man, looking up. "Oh. She wanted it for the DNA. She was going to have some bones dug up. She wanted to try to match it; I don't really understand how they do this."

"Nor do I," Keely said faintly.The exhumation,Keely thought. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. "Whose tooth . . . I mean, who did the tooth . . .?"

The young man snapped the velvet box shut. "Oh, it was me mum's."

"Your mother's," said Keely.

"I've been trying to find her," he said.

Keely stared at the velvet box, her mind racing. Was it possible that the person Richard and Mark had killed was this boy's mother? She felt her stomach churning. Part of her just wanted to walk away and probe this no further. But she couldn't. This young man was searching for his mother, and she might have a part of the answer. Ever since she had read Richard's note, she'd known that apart from her own concerns, there was a victim to consider. And a victim's family. "Has your mother been . . . missing for a long time?" Keely asked.

"Missing? No," he said. "Not exactly missing. It's just . . . Oh, it's a long story," he said dismissively.

Keely hesitated. "I don't mean to pry," she said. "I'm just . . . I was just curious."

The young man sighed but immediately began to explain, as if he enjoyed a chance to tell his story. "She left me, and me dad, you see, when I was just a baby, and she came to the States. Walked out on us, really. I never heard from her. But I figured since I was coming here anyway, I'd look her up. But no one could tell me where she was. That's when I decided to try Missing Persons and I met Miss Chase. Rather rude, she was at first. Then yesterday, she called me up, all excited. Said she thought she might be able to help me after all."

"Yesterday? Really?" Keely breathed.

"She had some new information. She wanted to have some old remains dug up. She said I should come in and they'd take a DNA sample and they might be able to tell something from that. Certain matches are genetic between parents and children, you know. But I said, 'Hold on! I can do you one better than that.' And I told her about the tooth.

"I got it from me gran. Seems she had some regrets about tossing me mum out all those years ago. When she heard I was coming to the States, she gave me the tooth in this box. She said I should show this to Veronica when I found her. To prove who I was. Miss Chase thought that was brilliant. Told to me to bring it in today."

"Veronica?" Keely asked. Her legs suddenly felt rubbery.

"Veronica Weaver. Did you know her?"

"No," Keely whispered. "No, I didn't."

"She married some bloke here in town. Apparently she left him years ago and went to Las Vegas with some toff. But there's no address for her out there. I began to wonder, you know."

"Sure," said Keely. "Maybe you can still find out. Ms. Chase's successor," she said faintly.

"Maybe so. I can't hang around here forever. I would like to know, though. Close the chapter out, so to speak."

"You should pursue it. She was your mother," Keely said.

"Well, it's not like she gave a d.a.m.n," he said. "I never heard from her. I don't remember her. Just . . . curiosity, you know."

"Closure," said Keely. "Yes, I do know."