Page 26 of Skeletons in the Closet

His brows rose as he stared from the notepad to me and back, then a breathtaking smile filled his face. His hazel eyes lit up behind his glasses. The man had killer cheekbones when he smiled. Hell, he had killer everything.

“That was a joke. I’m impressed. I didn’t think you were capable. I’m going to write that in my diary tonight. Dear Diary, Diem pretended to be funny today. It was a phenomenon. I called the press. Seemed unusual enough to warrant some attention.”

I deadpanned.

Tallus, clearly amused with himself, tossed his phone aside and leaned back, resting an ankle over a knee, arms crossed over his chest. He’d shed his fashionable jacket when we came in, but he still looked like a million bucks in the gray knitted sweater with the white shirt collar poking through the top. “What now, Guns? Do we go knock on Beth’s door and interrogate her?”

“We’re not the police, andyou’renot going anywhere near her.” I glanced back at the computer. “First, I want to find out what these articles are about. Alone.” I peeked at Tallus, but he didn’t seem to be going anywhere. “By myself.”

He kept smirking and sitting and looking like a wet dream. I needed him to go away.

“In solitary.”

“I hear you, D. I’m ignoring you.”

“I can call you when I close the case and get paid. All I have for cash right now is a down payment.” I shifted my weight in the desk chair, but he still looked too settled. “Um… thank you for your help today.”

“I get the distinct feeling you’re politely asking me to leave.”

“I am.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Um… I would prefer if—”

“Let me see the articles at least. I’m curious. You can’t lead me this far, then boot me out the door before we get to the good stuff.”

“It’s not… I would… Okay. Fine.”

“Excellent.” Tallus winked, and it hit me right in the balls.

I fumbled through creating a subscription for theToronto Star. It required a credit card, so I dug my wallet from a back pocket and punched it in. A few more details, and I was set. When I tried the link again, it redirected me to a past edition of the newspaper. It did not, however, highlight a particular article.Figuring I’d done it wrong, I typed the link in again but got the same results.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Hang on.”

I tried the second link. Same deal. Aggravated, I collapsed back in my creaky faux leather chair and crossed my arms to think. Tallus, likely not impressed at being ignored, slid his seat around to my side of the desk and got in my space again, wafting cologne and body heat and taking over the computer.

We did not complement one another. Tallus had zero issues with personal space, and I couldn’t get enough. Although Tallus’s invasion hit me differently than regular people, it was no less uncomfortable.

Tallus browsed the newspaper displayed on the screen, scrolling slowly through the articles. Tabbing over, he did the same with the first one I’d opened. The man was a tongue-clicker when he thought. It was both irritating and intriguing.

“How are we supposed to know what Beth was showing Olivia?” he asked.

I didn’t have a fucking clue, and if Tallus didn’t vacate the premises, I wouldn’t be able to puzzle it out either since I couldn’t think rationally with him around.

Undeterred, Tallus continued to browse them both as though I wasn’t there and hadn’t been trying to do the same thing. He flipped between tabs, clicking his tongue. Flipping and clicking. Flipping and clicking.

“There must be a common topic. Not national news, not world crisis, not sports, or politics, or stuff like that. Something… smaller. Something personal that shows up in both papers.”

“What are the dates?” I asked. It might not be relevant, but I didn’t know what else to say or how else to participate in my own job.

Tallus scrolled to the top. “April sixteenth, and…” He tabbed over. “February nineteenth. That’s a decent enough gap to be significant, don’t you think? I mean, news-wise, right? Whatever Beth’s pointing out should be obvious. The problem is these papers are no small things. TheToronto Staris robust. God, I’d kill for a latte right now.”

I didn’t have the means of making coffee let alone anything fancier. The best I could offer Tallus was a beer or bourbon. Since he didn’t seem serious about the drink, I offered nothing. Plus, alcohol was a surefire way to fuck up again. I didn’t trust myself to drink in front of Tallus anymore, and since I couldn’t engage sexually without at least a solid buzz, it meant we were safe from heading down that road again.

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