Page 92 of Skeletons in the Closet

“D?”

“You could talk to his wife.”

“Faye?”

“No. Shore’s wife. Natalia is her name. If she’s pissed enough at her husband… If she was…” He trailed off and typed into the search bar again.Natalia Shore + David Shore.

A few hits were bogus and didn’t match. But one was a wedding announcement with an attached picture. A Facebook post several years old. The couple had married in 2014.

I did quick math in my head. “That would have been after the other three were done school.”

Diem nodded and flopped back on the couch. It meant Natalia likely wouldn’t know any more about how David connected to the other three than we did.

“Still want me to try talking to her?”

“No. Doyle and Fox probably have her gagged anyhow, and we don’t want to—”

A knock sounded at the office door.

Diem stiffened, his body instantly coiling and on alert.

I glanced into the other room and back. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No.”

“New client?”

“I don’t know.”

“Want me to answer it?”

He hesitated. “No.”

The person knocked again.

I got up, and when Diem didn’t stop me, I crossed to the other room to see who it was.

When I opened the door, Detective Aslan Doyle from homicide grinned from the other side of the threshold. It was not a pleased-to-see-you grin but more of a self-satisfied-smirk type.

“Thought I might find you here.”

21

Diem

“Detective.” Tallus was calm and cool as always, but I recognized a snide edge creeping under the syrupy tone. “Please, come in.”

Sweat covered my palms, and I wiped them on my jeans before standing. Aslan Doyle had moved into the office but hovered by the open door. The stance he took was one I knew well. The cop stance. The I’m-above-you stance. The we’re-going-to-play-this-game-my-way stance. It instantly put my nose out of joint.

I knew Doyle, but not well. During my short stint working in the headquarters building when I’d been on probation, I’d witnessed the too-high-on-himself playboy detective sauntering around the office like he was god’s gift to men and women alike. The man’s reputation rivaled my own but in a different way.

Apparently, he’d settled down and gotten married. It was hard to believe he could keep it in his pants long enough to commit to anyone, but what did I know. He still carried arrogance onhis shoulders. Didn’t all detectives? They were all too high on themselves. Doyle was no exception.

Aslan saw me in the doorway between rooms and offered a slight tip of the head. “Krause.”

“Doyle.”

He glanced at Tallus, sizing him up and down in a way I didn’t like. “I see you’ve got yourself a partner.”

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