When they were out of earshot, Paul released his clutching hold of me, but kept a hand on my shoulder. "I think I'll get you a bigger diamond," he said.
"Why?" I tipped my head, examining the wine-damp ring on my left hand. "I'm rather attached to the one I've got."
"No reason. Just a passing thought." He ran his hand down my arm and kissed the side of my head. "Let's go socialize."
Instead of heading for people we rarely saw and should probably have made an effort to mingle with, Paul set a course for Aunt Vi and Juliet.
Aunt Vi's voice rang somewhat strident over the conversational hum. "The lights must be off."
"What difference does it make?" My sister asked with a stubborn jut to her chin. "Besides, I'd much rather they be on."
Aunt Vi was going to find this argument difficult to win -- whatever it was about -- and I didn't fancy getting in on it. I cast around for Uncle Henry, wondering where he'd gone, and located him across the room talking to someone I didn't know. Paul, apparently of the same mindset as me, redirected our path toward him, but not before my aunt saw us.
"Paul, dear, you should have your opinion count. What do you say? Lights on or off?"
Paul took more than a sip of his scotch. "Well, uh …."
"For the séance, for crying out loud," Juliet said. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Juliet Campbell, he knew precisely what I was speaking of."
Paul took another swig of his drink, probably thinking he was hiding his amusement. However, I saw the laugh at the corners of his eyes. "Ask Thea," he said, lowering his glass. "She's going as my proxy."
Back to that, were we? "No, I'm not. You're going. It was your idea."
"It was my idea," Aunt Vi said. "And you probably should be there, Thea, since it's your house and the ghost will feel comfortable with you."
"Paul lives there, too." Unnecessary, but I felt compelled to point it out.
"But you're a woman, and so is the ghost. She'll feel more inclined to appear if you're there."
I sighed. "If that were the case, then in all the years I've lived there you'd think I'd have seen her by now. Seriously, you guys, there is no ghost in my house. Besides, the inside is a wreck from the fire and all the tear-down Jim and his crew have done. I don't even know if it's safe to go in."
"Of course it's safe," Aunt Vi said. "No one will mind a little mess. And let's invite Andrea along."
"What if Andrea's dead husband shows up instead of Thea's ghost? Eww. Who'd want that old fart coming in and spooking us?" Juliet asked.
"Andrea won't be interested." At least I didn't think so. She hadn't been an enthusiastic supporter when the topic came up over dinner.
"You're just chicken," Juliet said.
"No --"
"Here comes Jim now. Why don't you ask him if the house is safe?" Paul pointed with his drink -- the only hand he had available, since the other was firmly anchored on my waist. When Aunt Vi and Juliet turned to look he led me away.
"Where are we going?"
"Nowhere. Why? Did you want to go somewhere?"
"Not really, but why did we sneak off?"
"Don't know what you're talking about. Let's go say hi to some of the kids."
Several of Paul's paleontology students were at the party. They'd been helping catalog Andrea's late husband's fossil collection. It was a huge job. It was a huge collection. And there were some huge problems with it that went beyond the misery it had caused for Andrea.
I knew, and liked, most of the kids who were helping out, but after a round of "Hi, Paul, er, Dr. Hudson," and "Hi, Thea," and all of them swearing they were either twenty-one or not drinking alcohol, we moved along.
Uncle Henry was quizzing Dave about the Mariners’ chances at the pennant this coming year. Although British, my uncle had become enough Americanized to develop a fondness for baseball. I'd have been happy to talk baseball, but the subject changed to a more immediate interest: the skeleton -- now missing -- from our backyard.
"Sure, they might find a bone that wasn't taken," Dave said in response to Uncle Henry's inquiry. "And DNA might possibly be extracted. But I can practically guarantee we'll have no information to match it to. No only that, but we're missing evidence of the manner in which the individual was killed."
"What do you mean?" Uncle Henry asked.
Paul jumped in. "Broken bones, specifically the way they're broken, can indicate if the injury occurred before, after, or at the time of death. Cranial damage would be telling. We can identify teeth marks on dinosaur bones and the degree of healing will tell us if an injury occurred in conjunction with death --"
"So, knife wounds or such might show on the bones?" Uncle Henry asked, head cocked in the manner he used when totally focused on a student.
Paul plunged along, with Dave nodding in agreement. "Right. Since the body was buried, it'd be doubtful there would be any teeth marks from, say, dogs or wild animals that might gnaw at the corpse."
Ewww.
"Interesting," Uncle Henry said, tapping a finger on his chin and nodding -- another coaching mannerism. He was enthralled.
Ewww.
"Probably the thing to do," Dave said, taking over the lecture, "would be to find out if there's any old missing persons reports in the last, I don't know, thirty years or so that are still open."
"Sounds like a daunting job," my uncle said.
Dave blew out a long breath and nodded. "Be much easier if the forensics team could ballpark a time line for the burial."
A soft presence and floral perfume alerted me to a newcomer to our group. The woman I'd seen earlier with short, wavy light brown hair, and pale blue, drop-waist dress stood close to my elbow.
"They ought to look at the county records," she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She shrugged and fiddled with the long strand of pinkish beads that hung almost to her waist. "You could look in the county records to find out who owned that house, track down any residents and find out who died -- especially if it was a man, since I'll bet the skeleton is a man and not a woman, and the man's name will probably be listed as the owner."
"Good idea."
"What's a good idea?" Paul asked.
I looked up at him. "What she said."
"Who?"
"This…." She was gone. "The woman who was here just a second ago. She said it would be a good idea to check the county records -- find out who lived in our house."
"Yeah, hadn't occurred to me. Say, Dave, is Thurman going to do that?"
"Do what?"
Good grief. Did these guys talk and not listen? "Paul, I'm going to the bar. Do you want another scotch?" Having launched an inquiry into the merits of county record keeping, he didn't respond. I left them to their analysis and threaded my way across the room.
Leroy, settled in a comfortable chair near the bar, was deep in conversation with my mother. Neither Jim nor Lauren was there. Interesting. I scanned the salon and found them both. Together -- more or less.
Jim and several others, including Juliet and the woman with short, light brown hair, listened with rapt interest to Aunt Vi's animated discussion with Lauren.
I put my empty glass on a handy tray and changed direction. This was a good opportunity to introduce myself to the woman in blue and find out if she had any more helpful hints. She stood close to Jim, fiddling with her necklace like before. Unlike before, she pressed her other hand to her lips partially hiding her delight at the conversation between my aunt and Leroy's helper. Everyone else, including Juliet, was being far more polite.
"The treasure you're referring to is the Staffordshire Hoard," Aunt Vi said, "not the Shropshire Hoard. There is no Shropshire Hoard."
Lauren waved her hands in the air like she was warding off gnats. "Shropshire, Staffordshire, whatever-shire. The point is, buried treasure is everywhere. The plausacity of a buried treasure, of sorts, in Snohomish should not be dismissed off-hand. Why, it's common knowledge that pirateers ran amok up and down the West Coast. Puget Sound must have looked like a safe haven for many of them for burying their treasure."
What complete and utter nonsense. I stepped forward. "Excuse me, but --"
"You're right," Aunt Vi snapped. "The plausibility of pirate or privateer treasure in this area should not be dismissed off-hand, it should be discarded with a good boot. The skeleton is not a man, it's a woman, as I will soon prove."
Lauren's chin went up. "Paul is right. It's male --"
She knew Paul's opinion? When did that happen?
"-- I'm completely certain. And I'm telling you it's probably the remains of the pirateer who was selected by his captain to guard the treasure until such time as it was safe to revive it. Why, if we searched the area with metal detectors, like the farmer who found the Shropshire Hoard --"
"Staffordshire Hoard."
"Whatever. If we did, then we'd probably find the stash."
The mystery woman was quietly busting a gut, and no one paid her the least bit of attention but me. I caught her eye and scowled. She shrugged in response. Time to step in and settle things down. Lauren was, after all, talking about my house and yard.
"Hey, excuse me --"
"Oh, hello, Thea." Aunt Vi's face relaxed into a welcome. "We're just having a friendly little prattle about your skeleton."
Right. "It's not my skeleton, and since it's missing we probably won't be able to answer your question as to its identity. Furthermore, I'll not have anyone combing my backyard looking for non-existent pirate treasure."
Lauren shook her finger at me, the embers of heated debate still sparking in her eyes. "Now see, that's just the kind of attitude that will stand in the way of progress. Imagine the boom to the local economy when the Snohomish Hoard is uncovered. It could be worth millions. Maybe more."
Unbelievable. I opened my mouth to correct her many errors, but Juliet cut me off, her expression as intensely dreamy as when she'd leafed through last year's firefighters calendar.
"Wow. Do you really think so? Thea could be rich, and not even know it."
Lauren shushed the twitter of excitement. "Whoever found it could be rich. I believe it's the law of 'finders keepers' that applies in this case. Possibly the property owner would get a cut, though. That seems only equateable."
"I'm not believing this," I said. "There is no 'finders keepers law' and furthermore, there is no buried treasure -- especially in my backyard."
Everyone in the little group looked at me for half a beat and then went back to the "debate."
"We'll have our answers when we do the séance," Aunt Vi said. "Perhaps you'd like to join us, Lauren."
"Why I'd love to, Vi. Thank you for asking. I'm sure the ghost can confirm what I'm saying, and he might even be convinced to give us a hint as to where we can find the treasure."