Page 29 of Skeletons in the Closet

“I knew his grandmother for a time back in the nineties. Sweet lady. I met her at a knitting convention in Waterloo and found out she didn’t live too far from me. A whole group of us used to get together on Saturday afternoons, drink tea, share gossip, and work on whatever projects we had on the go. Hazel’s her name.Last I heard, she was suffering from dementia. Not sure how she’s doing or if she’s walked the golden bridge outta this place.”

Kitty sighed. “My cuddle bear is close to his nana. If she passed, it could set him back. I should give him a call and see how Hazel’s doing. Now, why do you want to know about Mr. Krause anyway?”

Cuddle bear?

“No reason.”

Kitty wasn’t buying it and pinned me with a look over the top of her glasses. I busied myself on the computer again, continuing my search, feigning indifference. I figured Diem had a slew of shit in his background, but Kitty confirmed it. My curious nature made me want to ask what she meant by “hell and back” because I had a feeling my aging coworker had all the details about Diem’s past. She was a wealth of information; It was baffling how she could retain so much. The woman knew every intricate detail about nearly every case filed in our massive records storage room. I’d quizzed her many times and only managed to stump her once or twice. When it came to people, she was the same.

“You aren’t looking to have a fling with Diem, are you?”

I choked on my spit. “Excuse me, what now?”

“Oh, come off it. I was born at night, but not last night. You’re both gentlemen of an age who like swordplay. I’m not judging. If you want to knock your weapons together for fun, you should.”

“Our weapons? Wait… swords? What are you…”

“Oh, don’t be coy. You know exactly what I’m saying. Belly-bumpin’? Dinky-ticklin’? I’m an old woman, Tallus. I don’t know what you kids call it these days. Is that what you’re about with my cuddle bear?”

“Did you say dinky-tickling? No, don’t answer that.”

“I certainly did.”

“Kitty, I love you dearly, but I’m not sure how to respond. Can we go back in time about ten minutes or so and pretend I never asked?”

“So you aren’t interested in Mr. Krause in that way?”

“No.”

Unless…

No. The answer is no.

But the man had a hell of a sword. If he wasn’t so frigid, maybe…

No!

Kitty was astute, and I got the sick sense she could read my mind, so I tried to empty it of all thoughts of Diem and our exchange. I focused on the computer, hoping she would end the conversation I’d inadvertently started.

Finally, after much staring, she returned to her puzzle. “Four letter word. Outback birds… Oh, never mind. I know that one.” She bent over the book and penciled the answer.

Seriously though, cuddle bear? That was the last thing I would call Diem. An oxymoron if there ever was one.

With the pressure off, I continued searching the newspapers. My goal was to make a list of every article in the first one—along with a brief summary if the headlines weren’t obvious—and then go through the second edition to see if any of the topics matched. Then, it would be a matter of deciding which articles might relate to Beth, Olivia, and Noah. In theory, it seemed simple. In reality, it was giving me a headache.

Kitty continued with the crossword, sharing clues out loud but mostly finding the answers herself. Every so often, she would veer into random conversation.

Although I had plenty of other work I should have been doing, I wasn’t worried. On the days Kitty wasn’t in, I spent time reorganizing the crypt of a storage room or transferring paperfiles to digital. When she came to work, I felt it was my duty to keep her company.

It was after four when I completed my inventory of both newspapers. Once I’d eliminated world events, sports, and other clearly irrelevant topics, I was left with four that stood out:

An investigation into the downtown area’s prostitution problem. The follow-up article claimed there had been several instances of unnamed working women being dropped off at hospital emergency rooms after suffering abuse. The police claimed to be cracking down on the problem.

A local politician’s reputation was being dragged through the dirt after his scorned wife had released videos of him engaged in sexual acts with his secretary.How utterly unoriginal.The follow-up article claimed the same man might have been involved with several women, including an underage girl he’d taken on as a co-op student.

A university professor at York was under investigation for inappropriate transactions with female students. The follow-up article mentioned the professor might be charged with other crimes that had recently come to light—something to do with drug trafficking.

The final piece I’d highlighted was an ongoing protest at an independent bookstore. The bookstore hosted a drag story time event once a month where popular drag queens from the area came in and read books to children. How cool was that? The protesters needed to get a life.

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