Page 65 of Skeletons in the Closet

“If you ever cast a spell on me, I’ll be pissed off.”

Kitty tittered.

“I’ll be back.”

I wasn’t sure how many dozens of detectives worked in the building, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Kitty was right.

I left her to her puzzle and aimed for the elevator on the west side of the building, which would take me to homicide,four floors up. How was I going to approach this? Cases were confidential, and I had no reason to be asking questions. The likelihood of getting information from anyone was slim.

Instead of hitting the button for the fourth floor, I hit the one to take me to the basement, where our IT department was located. The head of the technology department happened to be my cousin, Costa Ruiz. We had an awkward relationship. We weren’t friends, but we were no longer enemies, per se. I wasn’t sure I liked him much.

We’d been estranged for many years until recently. Around Christmas, when the higher-ups had enforced a department-wide Secret Santa, Costa had broken the ice after a ten-year deep freeze. Apparently, he’d reformed and was no longer the homophobic bully I’d grown up with. It was a hard pill to swallow, and I was tentative about trusting him.

But Costa had helped me once before when I was working with Diem on a different case, and every connection we made helped heal the old wounds, so why not?

We hadn’t spoken in over a month, and even then, it was an awkward chat in the hallway when we’d run into one another. Costa had invited me to coffee a few times, but I had yet to take him up on the offer.

Why I thought it would be easier to approach him now, I had no idea. But if Doyle was on the case like Kitty presumed, I knew Costa had a connection with him. Costa was close friends with Doyle’s husband, Quaid Valor, so if I needed dirt, maybe this was the better way of getting it.

It was all in who you knew, right?

The basement was better known as the dungeon. It was without windows and void of life. Since my cousin was the sole dragon most of the time, it was also quiet. The hum of electronics vibrated in the air. The warm smell of plastic filled my nose. The hallway with its unattractive concrete walls wasdimly lit, and a lone office midway down was the only one with a light on.

I approached quietly, unsure what I might say. A familiar, bone-deep agitation made my skin itch. Although I knew Costa wasn’t the same person anymore, it was ingrained in me to raise a shield and take a defensive attitude the second I was in his radius.

He was busy at work, three computer screens lit around him. Fast-moving clicks of a mouse and rapid typing filled the room at intervals.

Without turning around, he said, “Just leave it on the desk.”

When I didn’t move or speak, he flashed his gaze over his shoulder. A barely perceptible flinch was followed by, “Oh. I thought you were someone else.”

“Do you have a minute?”

He moved his attention to the computer in the middle, clicked something, and shoved the keyboard tray into the desk before spinning around to face me. “What’s up?”

Costa crossed his densely tattooed arms—shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows—looking as awkward as I felt. It was odd. I was used to him being overly cocky with an unfiltered mouth. Since reuniting, I was constantly off my game when those familiar attributes were no longer present.

“I’m working with Diem again.”

My cousin winced but stayed quiet. Diem didn’t have a great reputation in the department, and I got the sense Costa didn’t like him much. Was it because Diem was gay, or did it go deeper than that?

I shrugged. “He’s a nice guy, and he needed help. It’s more exciting than sitting around the records office picking wedgies.”

“You get many of those?”

“Less in my adult years since I’ve managed to eject the bullies from my life.” I glared pointedly. Costa had been responsible for more than a few bodily assaults when I was growing up.

“I need to find out about something that happened this weekend,” I continued. “I read in the newspaper it’s being investigated, so—”

“So you were hoping I’d get you answers.”

I folded my lips over my teeth and nodded, keeping my chin high.

Costa stared for a long time. As a child, he’d been the definition of intimidating. Our ten-year age difference hadn’t helped. Now, as adults, I couldn’t help looking at him and seeing my father. Costa and I shared Hispanic roots, only his came from both parents, and my mother was white. Costa’s skin tone was darker. His features spoke of his heritage. He looked like my uncle—Costa’s father—which meant he shared a similar look to my father since everyone on that side of the family had strong genes.

Somehow, I’d ended up as my mother’s spitting image, pale-skinned and auburn-haired with fine bones and delicate features. Unless I told people I was half Hispanic, no one usually guessed. It didn’t help that when my father disowned me, I’d dropped his last name, adopting my mother’s maiden name.

Costa stared, and I wouldn’t back down or let him see me as the weak boy I’d once been. Not anymore. Those days were behind me. I’d grown a backbone in the past ten years, and it was hard to rattle my cage.

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