Or maybe the corpse in the crawlspace was someone else, someone that Brian had murdered, and when Peggy Murphy discovered that the body was there, Brian had had to kill her so she wouldn’t call the cops on him.

Next door, a curtain twitched, and Miss Venetia Rudolph’s face appeared in the window. I waved. She withdrew, looking put out. I figured I’d rubbed her the wrong way by letting her know that I’d noticed her nosiness, but then the front door opened, and she headed for me, her large tennis shoes squashing blades of grass as she went.

“Miss Baker.”

“Miss Rudolph?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning of what?” I said. She gestured toward the police car. “Oh. Right. The chief of police stopped by.”

“Why?”

I hesitated. Wayne probably wouldn’t be happy if I told her what we’d found, but on the other hand, it wasn’t like he could keep it a secret for long. Especially if there turned out to be a whole skeleton down there, and there probably would turn out to be.

“My boyfriend was drilling some holes underneath the foundation,” I said eventually. “To pour concrete for supports. The floors have settled.”

“And?”

“And he found a bone. It could be an animal bone-maybe a dog or a raccoon got into the crawlspace at one time and died-but we thought we’d better call the police just in case.” I smiled innocently.

“Isn’t your boyfriend Dr. Ellis’s son?” Venetia asked. “Didn’t he go to medical school? He should know a human bone when he sees one, shouldn’t he?”

I sighed. “He should, yes. Nevertheless, I think we should wait for official word from the police before we start spreading rumors that someone has found a skeleton under the haunted house on Becklea.”

“A skeleton?” Venetia repeated, her bushy eyebrows practically disappearing beneath her shaggy gray bangs. “I thought you said a bone. Singular.”

I gave myself a hard mental kick. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “He only found one bone. But since bones aren’t something you misplace easily, there may be more down there.”

“Harrumph!” Venetia said, but before she could continue, another voice entered the conversation.

“What’s going on?”

I swung on my heel and came face-to-face-or nose to Adam’s apple-with Lionel Kenefick. The young electrician must have noticed the police car and walked up from his own house to investigate. Now he was standing a few inches away, looking down into what I fondly refer to as my cleavage.

I took a step back and went through my story again, downplaying the discovery as much as I could. Lionel looked, for lack of a better word, nervy. His eyes were showing whites all the way around, like a skittish horse, and that prominent Adam’s apple kept jumping as he swallowed agitatedly. Not that I could blame him. The idea that I’d been walking around upstairs for several days, while all along a body had been moldering in the crawlspace, was totally creepy. Lionel was probably thinking about all the years he’d been living just down the street, while a body was rotting up here.

I forced a smile. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough what’s going on. The chief of police is down there, looking around. As a matter of fact,” I turned as I heard voices from behind the house, “here they are now.”

A moment later, Derek and Wayne came around the corner, deep in conversation. I couldn’t hear much of what they were saying, but a few words floated over to me.

“… crew,” Wayne said.

“… going to take?” Derek answered. “Gotta…”

Wayne shrugged. “… choice. Sorry, Derek. You know how it is.” He struck out for the police cruiser.

“Yeah, yeah.” Derek made a face at his retreating back and came over to me. “Hiya, Tink. Miss Rudolph. Lionel.” He nodded to the other two and put his arm around my shoulders.

“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing up at him. He looked resigned and not very happy.

“ Wayne has to call in a crew. To dig up the crawlspace.”

“I guess he probably doesn’t have a choice,” I said, fairly.

“I know he doesn’t. It’s just irritating, is all.”

“So are there more bones down there?” Venetia Rudolph wanted to know. Lionel looked green.

Derek glanced over at her. “We had a look around and found a couple more, yeah. Enough to establish that there’s at least one skeleton down there, maybe more.”

“More?” Lionel said faintly. Derek shrugged.

“Could be an old Indian burial ground or something. Not necessarily a murder victim someone stashed under the house. Although that’s a possibility, too, of course.” Lionel looked ready to hurl. “So the police will be digging up the basement?” Venetia asked, getting the conversation back on track. Derek nodded.

“Yes, ma’am. The chief of police is calling in a crew right now.”

“Not much room down there for a whole crew,” I remarked.

Derek shook his head. “It’ll be Brandon Thomas doing the digging, most likely. And Wayne asked me to stick around, too. He or Brandon can identify the bones themselves in a pinch, but since I’m here anyway, I can help them get a head start. Plus, it’s our house.”

I nodded. It made sense. He didn’t seem to mind looking at bones. Unlike me. “Would you mind if I took the truck into town meanwhile?” I’d had an idea about what I could do to help figure out what was going on.

He hesitated. Men are very possessive of their cars, I’ve noticed. My ex-boyfriend owned a little Porsche Boxster, and he’d go into flights of worry and indecision whenever I asked if I could drive it. I had, however, thought Derek to be made of sterner stuff.

He pulled the car keys out of his pocket, slowly. “You remember what happened last time, right?”

“Of course I remember,” I said, holding out my hand. “The fact that I almost hit Melissa’s fancy-pants Mercedes has nothing to do with my driving ability. I know how to drive. You’ve seen my license, haven’t you?”

“I have.” But he still didn’t hand over the keys.

Wayne, who had just come back from the squad car, looked from one to the other of us with barely concealed amusement.

I said, “I’ll be careful, Derek. I promise. I know how much that truck means to you.”

“It’s just a truck…” Derek began, and then he grinned. “Just remember that if you drive it off the road, you’ll have to walk here from Waterfield every morning. Or move in until we’re finished renovating.”

“Anything but that,” I said, snagging the keys out of his hand. “Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

“See that you are,” Derek answered, but he didn’t sound worried anymore. “So Wayne, what’s going on?”

“We’ve got another car coming,” Wayne explained. “ Brandon ’s bringing what he refers to as our CSI kit. Once the equipment’s here, we’ll string some lights so we can see what we’re doing and start digging.”

Lionel was lurking next to the chief, still looking a little nauseated. Wayne nodded to him. “Lionel Kenefick, isn’t it?”

Lionel nodded.

“And this is Miss Venetia Rudolph,” I said. “Miss Rudolph, this is Police Chief Wayne Rasmussen.”

I stood in silence for the next few minutes as the rest of them talked amongst themselves-about everything except the grisly find in the crawlspace, it seemed. Lionel talked about working for the Stenham brothers at Devon Highlands-Derek got a shuttered look every time Lionel mentioned Melissa, which he did without seeming to realize that she and Derek used to be married-and Venetia talked about gardening and the recent Garden Tour she’d been a part of.

After less than ten minutes, another squad car came up the street, sirens screaming and blue lights flashing, and screeched to a stop behind Wayne ’s car. The driver’s side door opened and Brandon Thomas burst out and jogged toward us, cheeks flushed with excitement.

At twenty-two or so, Brandon is likely to be chief of the Waterfield PD himself one day, if he doesn’t get tired of the small town and strike out for greener pastures before then. He’s the Waterfield police department’s CSI officer when one is needed, and the rest of the time, he is simply Patrol Officer Thomas. I’d gotten to know Brandon pretty well over the summer, since he’d had to come to Aunt Inga’s house to look for fingerprints and other evidence no less than four times during the first month I lived there. I smiled at him when he reached us, and he grinned back, clearly delighted at the thought of digging up bones.