All She Ever Wanted - Barbara Freethy [113]
"I know," Laura said softly, a smile on her face.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Madison said with a wave of her hand. "We'll do the mushy stuff later." And with that she knocked on the door.
Natalie felt a rush of adrenaline course through her as Diane's voice called them in. They were getting close to the truth. She could smell it.
Diane got up from her desk the moment she saw them. She was ten years older but still an attractive blonde. She was dressed in black slacks, a turquoise blouse, and a black jacket and looked every inch the sophisticated woman Natalie remembered. She'd been in her late twenties when they'd been in college and had been the perfect adviser, young enough to understand them, old enough to give advice.
"Natalie," she said. "This is a surprise. You didn't mention you were coming down here when we spoke yesterday. Madison, Laura," she added.
"I didn't know I was coming at the time. But things have changed."
"What things?" Diane asked quickly. "Do you have new information?"
"I do," Natalie said. She paused as Madison picked up a picture frame on the bookshelf behind Diane's desk and turned it toward them.
"Is this your husband, Diane?" Madison asked.
"Yes," Diane said warily.
"That's Professor Martin," Laura said.
"Is there a problem?" Diane's gaze darted about the room as if she were looking for a way out.
"Is that why you called me, Diane?" Natalie asked. "Were you trying to find out what I knew? So you could report back to your husband?"
Diane couldn't hide the fear that leaped into her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"We know, Diane. We traced Malone to Jerry Williams to your husband, Professor Greg Martin. It's only a matter of time before we find the actual connection between Mr. Williams and your husband. If you want to wait for the police to question you, that's fine with me. I'm sure they'll be along shortly. Or you can talk to me."
"All right, fine." Diane walked over and shut the door. "Greg did write that book, but I had no idea until a few months ago that he'd done it."
"Oh, please," Madison said in disbelief. "How could you not know?"
"I knew he was working on a novel. He's been working on novels for years. He's an English professor, for God's sake. He loves books. I didn't think anything about it. He certainly never told me what he was doing."
"Where did he get the information about us?" Natalie asked. "Did he have Emily's journal?"
"What?" Diane asked in confusion. "No, I don't think he had a journal. He told me he made up the story based on things he heard from other students after Emily died." She offered Natalie an apologetic smile. "I realize you're not painted particularly well."
"That's an understatement. Your husband called me a murderer. He said I pushed Emily off the roof and killed her."
"He told me that no one was supposed to know it was you or that the story was based on anything real."
"I don't believe that for a second. I think he wanted everyone to know," Natalie said. "That's why he wrote the book, to tell Emily's story. Only he got it wrong."
"Did he?" Diane asked, her voice turning hard. "Is this about protecting Emily or protecting yourself? It was no secret that you were drunk that night, Natalie, and that you didn't remember any thing. It was also known that you and Emily had a fight. If you'd stuck around, you would have heard all those rumors and more. Ask Laura, she'll tell you."
Natalie didn't bother to look at Laura, keeping her attention fixed on Diane, who was obviously trying to get herself off the hook. "I want to talk to your husband. Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"I think you do. He's in a lot of trouble, you know. I can sue him for libel."
"You won't win."
"I don't have to win to make your life miserable," Natalie said pointedly. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm scared, Diane, because I'm not. I'm furious. And if you think I'm going to sit by and let your husband's book ruin my career and the lives of my friends and most especially Emily's memory, think again."
Diane put up a hand in surrender. "Look,