Free Death on the Family Tree by Patricia Sprinkle

saying that Amy was a “space cadet” who had no friends. If Hollis was dating Zach and he was working for the Ivorie Foundation, Katharine hoped she wasn’t cultivating Amy for ulterior reasons.
    Amy slid Hasty an admiring look and held out a clutch of bright gift bags with a giggle of delight. “Mama really went all out, didn’t she? And Hollis gave me these great earrings she designed and made herself.” She held back her hair and shook her head. Bright beads swung against her cheeks.
    “It’s Kate’s birthday, too,” Hasty informed them, “so we’re celebrating.”
    “We were in the same class at Coral Gables High School years ago, and ran into each other over at the history center library. Isn’t that amazing?” Katharine knew she was talking too fast. Were her cheeks as pink as they felt? She wished he hadn’t called her Kate. Hollis had noticed, and was again looking at her with a speculative eye. “Hobart agreed to join me so I wouldn’t have to celebrate alone.” Maybe he’d get the hint if she used his full name.
    Hollis looked down at the necklace lying by her plate. “Looks like you got a present, too. Did Uncle Tom send it?” She put a slight emphasis on his name.
    “No.” Katharine hoped she sounded cheerful and normal. “He’ll bring me something when he gets home Friday, then we’re going to dinner and the symphony that night to celebrate.”
    “So what’s that?” Hollis asked warily.
    Katharine picked it up and held it out to her, ignoring Hasty’s glare. “Something I found among Aunt Lucy’s stuff. In fact, that’s why a curator over at the history center suggested I talk to Hobart. He’s a history prof at Emory.”
    Hollis eyed the necklace with the eye of an artist. “It looks real old. Is it?”
    “Hobart thinks so. How old?” Katharine asked him.
    He was watching the necklace like he wanted to snatch it and keep it safe. “If it’s genuine, it could be twenty-five hundred, maybe even three thousand years old.”
    “Wow.” Hollis had been lightly touching it, but jerked her hand away like the bronze was hot. Lamar Franklin was craning his neck to get a good look as well.
    “The diary may be an important find, too,” Katharine added. “It may be the detailed record of an important archaeological dig, lost for a hundred and fifty years.” She gloated at the surprised look on Hasty’s face. He hadn’t been going to tell her about the missing diary.
    Hollis looked from the necklace to the diary with a puzzled frown. “So how did Miss Lucy get them?”
    “That’s a mystery.” Katharine stowed both artifacts in her tote bag. “I’m working on it as my birthday present to myself.”
    Amy giggled. “I hope you have as good a birthday as I am. I had lunch with Hollis and Mama, and Papa—my granddaddy—has promised to come with us to the club for dinner. That’s really special, because he almost never leaves his house anymore.”
    Rowena turned to Katharine. “It was good to run into you. Happy birthday.” She ushered the girls ahead of her, checking her watch and picking up her pace as they reached the door.
    “Probably running late for some important meeting,” Hasty said as he resumed his seat.
    “Don’t knock it,” Katharine told him. “Rowena’s a competent woman. It makes me mad enough to spit that her daddy may skip over her and make her son head of the Ivorie Foundation.”
    “Brandon Ivorie is her son?” Hasty’s brows rose in surprise. “I thought he was her younger brother.”
    “No, he was the product of a disastrous early decision, or so Rowena tells high school students when she preaches to them about the dangers of having sex before marriage. And to give her credit, she knows what she’s talking about. Brandon was born when she was barely sixteen. The rumor is that her daddy held the proverbial shotgun to the young man’s head and made him marry Rowena to legitimate the baby, but within weeks of Brandon’s birth, Napoleon had