Page 90 of Skeletons in the Closet

Again, Diem hesitated. In the end, he moved away from the fridge without getting a drink. He didn’t land on the loveseat. Seemingly unsure where to put himself, he waffled in the middle of the room, hugging the tablet to his chest, working the gum with vigor. His fingers drummed the iPad’s plastic case.

“What’s up?”

“I researched David Shore while you were sick.”

“You said. And?”

“Didn’t find much.”

“The guy’s a lowlife asshole, fucking his much younger students, dealing drugs, and murdering women. Probably doesn’t want that on the internet.”

“I don’t know how he connects with Beth, Olivia, or Noah. At all. We’re missing something. I know all three of them went to York back in the day, but that was ten or more years ago.”

“Well, maybe Beth and Olivia were among his first student bed companions. Makes sense. He could have been up to his disgusting games back then too.”

Diem made a noise in his throat, almost like he was agreeing.

“Maybe Noah got in on the action. Maybe he was fucking around with Beth and Olivia and never stopped after he got married. If he and Shore got into it back then, there could have been bad blood between them.”

Diem furrowed his brows and seemed to take it in.

“We’re all over the place, D. In truth, we have no clue what’s going on. This went from an affair to murder. We need to talk to Doyle and Fox. Maybe we could—”

“No.” Diem shook his head for added emphasis. “Out of the question.”

“Why not? They somehow connected Shore to Beth, and we know he met with her Friday night. That’s huge evidence. We can’t suppress it. If we play our cards right, maybe—”

“No.”

Frustrated, I turned to pace the room but came face-to-face with Diem’s aquarium and pet snake. Baby was out of her hollowed-out log, prowling the tank. Could snakes prowl? I said yes.

She gave me the heebie-jeebies, and I backed up a step, wrinkling my nose. The heat lamp hanging low in her cage cast a yellow glow over her scales, highlighting her odd patterning. To me, they were a combination of browns and yellows, but I didn’t know what other people saw.

“She’s hungry,” Diem said from behind.

I laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. Not humorous. More of a mixture of fear and incredulity. “Great. That’s lovely. Not only do you have a fucking python for a pet, but you starve it. Now she’s pissed.”

“She’s not a python. She’s a red-tailed boa. And I’m not starving her. She gets fed tomorrow. I have her on a schedule.”

I stared at the reptile, her body pressed against the front glass of the aquarium as she moved slowly around a decorative rock in the corner, doubling back and slithering over other obstacles, tongue flicking the air like it tasted good.

“She’s more active when she’s hungry. It’s normal. She won’t hurt you.”

“So you’ve said. She’s disgusting. I don’t know how you can stand having a snake for a pet. I can’t even look at her without getting goose bumps.”

Diem said nothing. When I glanced over my shoulder, the big guy still clung to the iPad as he watched Baby move around her enclosure. He no longer chomped the gum or drummed his fingers. A distant look hung in his stormy gray eyes, and his forehead creased. It wasn’t often Diem looked anything but pissed off or confused, but the expression on display at that moment was one of sadness. Hurt.

He caught me staring and jerked his attention from the snake, scanning his apartment. “I don’t expect you to understand,” he mumbled.

“Please explain it. I’d love to know why you share space with something so hideous.” I didn’t know why I asked or why I was so harsh—his choice of pet unsettled me—but something about my comment seemed to upset Diem.

“We… We understand each other.” Diem shook his head. “Never mind. Like I said, you wouldn’t get it.” He moved to the loveseat and sat with his back to me.

I glanced at the creature in the tank. How did a person bond with a snake? It was ugly. You didn’t want to cuddle it. Hell, I didn’t want to touch it. They were nasty, mean, and dangerous. The way its tongue flicked, and its thickly coiled body tensed and stretched as it moved made it look like it was constantly on alert. Ready to attack. It wasn’t often the snake left its log—at least from what I’d seen. Ordinarily, I thought it seemed perfectly happy to stay hidden from the world.

The world probably preferred it too.

Frowning, I looked at Diem where he sat on the couch, bent over the iPad he’d placed on the coffee table. Coiled muscles, oversized body, and shorn hair over skin displaying a road mapof scars from past abuse. Tension filled him like he was always on alert. Always ready to fight back.

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