Francine had done two loops of her apartment, checking the windows and the locks, but she still couldn't settle down. Something about this whole thing was bothering her and she couldn't put her finger on it.

She'd been left almost speechless after Amanda's admission today that Lee had never doubted her over the case with Mrs. Welch. Her guilt that she'd been responsible, however unwillingly, for the death of those agents still bothered her, and when Lee had joked that maybe she was the key to the current losses, she'd been hurt that he would rake up old coals like that. Hearing that he'd never considered her a traitor at all had helped a lot – he hadn't been intending to wound her, it really had just been a joke, the kind of thing they'd always traded back and forth.

She gave a tight smile. "I guess he got the last one in on personal insults, hey?" she asked the ceramic cat on her counter. Lee had brought it back for her from a trip to Japan years ago and since his death, she'd moved it to somewhere she could see it all the time. As a professional, she knew this kind of thing was to be expected, but on a personal level, she knew this one would hurt for a long time. "It's too bad," she said, "I had a really good one saved up about his stupid tie pins." She sighed and ran a hand over the cat's head.

"The pattern is odd," she said, back to thinking about the case. "It started out so randomly and now it seems so personal." The cat stared back at her impassively. "Or maybe that is the pattern," she speculated. "It's concentric circles, working its way into the Agency. Maybe it was personal all along. Maybe there's a target we're not seeing and Lee and Vernon were collateral damage." She made an unladylike noise that Lee might have described as a growl, if he'd been there to hear it.

She reached for the phone to run the idea past Billy, but it rang just as she went to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" she barely managed to get out before a frantic voice began to speak.

"Miss Desmond? Francine? Thank goodness you're home! I didn't know who else to call because it's empty and I don't know what to do or how to report it and Amanda said I should call you if we found anything and this isn't anything, it's nothing and that's worse, isn't it?

"Who is this?" asked Francine crisply.

"Oh." The voice at the other end took a deep breath. "It's Susan – Susan Morley – from the Agency? The steno pool?"

Fracine rolled her eyes at how every sentence had been a question. "Okay, Susan from the steno pool, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, a bunch of us girls have been going through the files at work and the security footage trying to help figure out who would have been able to do all those things like get at Lee's – I mean Mr. Stetson's – desk and we really have narrowed it down a lot."

"And you found something?" asked Francine incredulously. "Something that might help us catch him?"

"Oh! No, not really yet, but we're really close!"

It was Francine's turn to take a deep breath. "So what did you find?" she asked, trying to sound calm. "What was so earth shattering you had to call me at home? To say nothing of the fact that you must have accessed some pretty secure files to get my home number."

"I didn't," said Susan in a small voice. "I just called the Agency and asked the switchboard to put me through."

"Fine. So again – what is so important you had to call me at home?"

"I drive by the cemetery on my way home every day and today, I thought I'd go and stop by Mr. Stetson's grave and tell him how we're all trying to find his murderer."

"I just know this is going somewhere," said Francine. "You said you found something. Did someone leave evidence there?"

"No," said Susan. "I didn't find anything, that's why I called."

Francine closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Are you friends with Amanda King, by any chance?"

"Yes," replied Susan, sounding uncertain. "But she said I should call you."

"So you went to the cemetery to lay flowers and no doubt throw yourself weeping over his grave like a Brontë character, and you found nothing? Do I have that right?" asked Francine.

"Wow," Susan muttered, just loud enough for Francine to hear. "Amanda's right, you are mean."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I mean, yes, I found nothing," she went on, more loudly. "There was nothing there – just an empty coffin."

Francine's blood ran cold. "You're sure you were at the right place? It's not just an empty grave ready to be used tomorrow?"

"Oh yes, ma'am. There's a little temporary sign at the top that says Lee Stetson, but the grave is all dug up and the coffin is wide open. And it wasn't dug up like a gravedigger does it, all neat and tidy – this looks like someone went at it like a kid digging on the beach, you know what I mean?"

"Stay there," ordered Francine. "I assume you're at the main gate? I'll be there in ten minutes."