Free Dead Secret by Beverly Connor Page B

anything,” she said.
    “Wouldn’t you agree that my goodwill should extend to those who entrust items to me?”
    “So you do have them?”
    “Actually, I don’t know whether I do or not. I just got back from a two-week vacation. I really don’t know what may have arrived during my absence. So our conversation may be moot.”
    “Can you check to see if you have them?” asked Charlotte.
    Diane looked at her watch. “Not right now. I’m leaving soon.”
    Caitlin stood and leaned on Diane’s desk. “Look, I told Charlotte that in this country we place value on ancestral remains. I explained to her about the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act.”
    “NAGPRA does not apply here. We know they are not the bones of a Native American,” said Diane.
    “I’m making an analogy. Work with me. We have the act because many of us over here place value on returning remains to their descendants.”
    “Nevertheless, I could not give them to you if I were to have them. And Miss Shanahan, please sit down.” To Diane’s surprise, Caitlin did as she was told.
    “Why can’t you give them to me?” asked Charlotte.
    “You know there is another claimant. What if he walked in and asked for them and I gave them to him?”
    “He’s not related.”
    Diane was actually glad they came to see her. It was a good opportunity to learn about some of the lore surrounding the bones. “Why do you think they are the bones of your ancestor?” she asked.
    “The story of Annwn has been in my family for generations,” said Charlotte, holding her arms wide, as if that would encompass all her ancestry. “She was a Druid, she was accused of being a witch, and she was murdered in a cave.”
    “Why do you think these specific bones are hers?” asked Diane.
    “How many bones of witches in caves can there be?” Caitlin was getting exasperated.
    Diane had the impression that if Caitlin knew where the bones were, she’d make a break for them.
    “Apparently more than one,” said Diane.
    Caitlin looked over at Charlotte, who nodded in agreement with Diane. “There’s another set of bones from Somerset said to be those of a witch that were discovered in a cave,” she said.
    “You’re kidding . . . ” said Caitlin.
    “Why do you think these bones and not the others are your ancestor?” Diane asked the question again.
    Diane heard the door open in the next room—Andie taking Vanessa her tea.
    “The story is different. In the case of the Somerset bones, the alleged witch was killed by a monk through some kind of ritual. . . . She was supposedly turned to stone.” Charlotte waved a hand as if dismissing the story.
    “Wasn’t Annwn turned into . . . ” began Caitlin.
    “Salt?” said Diane.
    “No,” said Charlotte. “Some people say Annwn turned some woman to salt, but that’s not what happened.”
    “But the stories from the two caves sound very similar—stone, pillar of salt. How do you know it’s not just one story with several variations?”
    Charlotte sighed heavily. “Annwn was a Druid artisan. She was deceived by her husband and his Roman lover, the daughter of a government official. They lured her into a cave, and while she talked with her beloved, the Roman woman crept up behind her and stabbed her in the back. The pillar of salt was probably a Christianized addition to the story, influenced by the biblical story of Lot’s wife. The story I just told you has been in my family for generations. No one was turned to salt. I mean, you can’t really do that.”
    “I think it’s obvious,” said Caitlin. “The bones are her ancestor.”
    Diane stared at both women for a moment, then slid open the bottom drawer of her desk and took out a sealed packet, opened it, walked around her desk and stood in front of Charlotte.
    “Will you give me a sample of your DNA?”
    The two of them looked at her as if she’d asked them to pee in a glass. Diane pulled a swab from the kit.
    Diane smiled. “I’ll take it