A Skeleton in the Family (17 page)

A
s soon as class was over, I headed for the van and put Sid up front so we could talk as I drove home.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I'm sorry, Georgia. That woman opened the suitcase and—”

“But are you okay? Are all of your pieces intact?”

“I'm fine.”

I let out a deep breath. “Thank goodness—I wouldn't have put it past her to steal a bone as a souvenir. And don't apologize for what that ossifying piece of sacrum did. If I'd met Charles when I was supposed to, this never would have happened. It's my fault for sleeping late.”

“But now people know about me. I mean, they don't know I'm alive—sort of alive. Moving, anyway. But they know you've got a skeleton.”

“So what?” I scoffed. “Academics are supposed to be weird. I went to a party at a stats teacher's house once, and he had three stuffed cats on his mantel. Not plush toys—taxidermy stuffed. They were all his former pets. Now that caused talk.”

“But—”

“It's done, it's over. Just tell me you found out something in Dr. Kirkland's office.”

He hung his head.

“They've cleaned the place out already?”

“No, but—”

“Could you not get out of the suitcase?” As part of our prep work, we'd rigged it so he could open the case from the inside, but the bag was old, and the zipper could have gotten stuck.

“It worked fine, but—”

“Were the file cabinets locked? I knew I should have dug up a skeleton key for you. No offense. Or—”

“Can I get a word in edgewise? Somebody else broke into the office.”

“Somebody did what?”

“I'm starting at the beginning now. Charles left me at the door, as planned, and I waited for half an hour to make sure he was gone.” I'd lent him a watch with a glow-in-the-dark face for the occasion. “Then I got out and used the over-the-transom method to get into the office.”

“You didn't chip a bone, did you?”

“Nope. There was a rug, and that kept things quiet, too. Once I got enough of myself inside, I opened the door, pulled myself together, and got the suitcase inside. I was about to start looking around when I heard somebody coming down the hall. Of course, I didn't know if he was coming into that office, but just in case, I got back into the suitcase and zipped it shut. I was just in time, too. The guy came in.”

“Did he have a key?”

“It sounded like he did.”

“Who was it?”

“Do you see X-ray-vision eyes?” Sid asked, and stuck his fingers into his sockets.

“Stop that. It looks painful.”

If Sid had had eyes of any description, I suspect he'd have rolled them. “I don't know who it was. I was afraid it was somebody coming to pack up the office and was worried that I'd end up in storage, but as far as I could tell, all the guy did for the next hour was fiddle with Dr. Kirkland's computer.”

“How do you know it was a he if you didn't see him?”

“I don't,” he admitted, “but it sounded like a man mumbling under his breath while he fiddled.”

“Then what?”

“He walked around, opened drawers, flipped through papers. I think he was looking for something.”

“Did he open your suitcase?”

“He tried to, but I held on to the zipper from my side.” Sid was fairly strong, given his lack of muscles. “I was afraid he was going to try to force it, but he gave up pretty quickly. Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn't expect it to be in a suitcase. Then he rummaged around some more and left.”

“I suppose it could have been perfectly innocent,” I said.

“Yeah. In the middle of the night, somebody sneaks into the office of a dead professor and messes with her computer. He was probably just playing Minecraft.”

“Okay, not innocent. Sacrum, I wish I knew who it was.”

“Maybe we should put a peephole in the suitcase before I go undercover next time.”

“There's not going to be a next time! What if that guy had opened the suitcase and found you? Or just wheeled you away? I just hate that we risked you like that and then didn't learn anything.”

“It wasn't like I didn't try.”

“Don't tell me you left the suitcase after all that.”

“Well . . .”

“Sid!”

“I waited for an hour to make sure he was gone, and the first thing I did was wedge a chair under the door to make sure nobody else could come strolling in.”

I was torn between wanting to smack him for taking the chance, and wanting to smack him for teasing me. So I smacked him. “What did you find out?”

He looked disgusted. “Zilch. I went through all the files, but there was nothing about the school's skeleton collections. Nothing useful on her computer, either.”

“There was no password protection on it?”

“Dr. Kirkland used one of those ‘remember me' features, so I didn't have to enter it, so I'd have found anything if there was anything to find.”

“Coccyx!” I thought I heard a bone drop. “Don't you fall apart on me now, Sid. We aren't through, not by a long shot.”

“Then what next?”

“I don't know, but we'll come up with something. Okay?”

“I just wish I had a ‘remember me' feature for myself,” he said sadly.

M
adison was doing homework while listening to music when we got back to the house, so I was able to sneak Sid into the house and up to the attic without her noticing. Only when he was out of sight did I let her know I was on the premises.

I wandered to the kitchen to see what was available for dinner and was weighing the ease of ordering pizza against the impact on my budget when my cell phone rang. It was Fletcher.

“Did you really take a skeleton to class?” he asked.

“It took you this long to hear? The grapevine is running slow.”

“I wasn't on campus today, so it took a while for the news to get to me. So, did you?”

“Yes, actually. My parents had one in the attic and I was trying to check on the provenance. No biggie. What is a biggie is that Sara had the nerve to open my suitcase! Why aren't people talking about that?”

“Because nosy coworkers are a dime a dozen, whereas skeletons in suitcases are far more gossip-worthy. If it makes you feel any better, I hear that the way in which you dressed her down was masterful.”

“I like the sound of that. I know it's probably not very mature, but there's something cleansing about righteous anger.”

“I live for righteous anger. Why do you think I became a reporter?” He went on to tell about the first really big scam he'd revealed in print, which I appreciated both because it was interesting and because it distracted him from the skeleton in the suitcase.

Unfortunately, he eventually got back to Sid. “You know, I bet my boss would get a kick out of a feature about strange things people keep in their attics. Do you think your parents would mind if I used them as an example? Maybe take a picture of the skeleton?”

“No. I mean, yes, they'd mind. They're really private people.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised by my refusal. “I wouldn't have to use their names.”

“Fletcher, there are people all over campus who know I was lugging a skeleton around. I think they'd figure out who you were writing about.”

“Since everybody already knows, what difference would it make if it was in the paper?”

“There's a difference between everybody on campus knowing and everybody in town knowing. Not to mention the fact that the paper goes online, too.”

“There's already a picture of it online.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sara posted a picture of the skeleton on Facebook.”

“Are you serious? Please tell me she didn't use my name.”

“She did misspell Thackery.”

“That ossifying piece of sacrum!”

“Um . . . what?”

“You realize that colleges Google people before hiring them, right? Which means that any time I try to get a job, somebody could bring up Sid.”

“Sid?”

“The skeleton.” I took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, I'm too enraged to make any sense. But if I miss out on any jobs because of that woman, I am going to cram
her
into that suitcase!”

“I could ask her to delete it, maybe sweet-talk her a little, take her out to dinner. Well, coffee. I don't think I could stand her for a whole dinner.”

“Thanks, but as soon as she realized you were just trying to get her to take it down, she'd plaster it all over the Web. No, this is going to require a special effort on my part.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Don't worry—I can virtually guarantee that there will be no loss of life.”

“Now you're scaring me. But I like it.”

“You go for a badass, do you?”

“Oh yeah. I know this is incredibly late notice, but are you free for dinner tonight?”

“I might be. Let me check something and call you back.” In other words, I wanted to see if Madison minded being on her own for the evening. It turned out Deborah had invited both of us to go out with her, but was happy to settle for a one-on-one with her favorite niece. In fact, she was willing to have Madison sleep over so I could make it a late night. I could almost see the wink when Deborah said that.

I called Fletcher back to set a time, then scooted upstairs for a quick shower and change. I was finishing up my makeup when I saw Deborah coming up the stairs.

“I didn't hear the bell,” I said suspiciously.

She just smirked and patted the pocket that presumably held her lock picks. “So you've got a hot prospect.”

“A prospect? You make it sound as if I'm actively hunting for a husband.”

“It would be a good thing, wouldn't it?”

“I haven't noticed you saying yes to the dress, or ordering pastel-colored padlocks to use as wedding favors.”

“I may not be married, but I'm settled. I have a business and a home of my own. You, on the other hand, are living moment to moment.”

“How can one live other than moment to moment? Should I be skipping moments, or going back for moment do-overs?”

“You also have a daughter who deserves a home and a father.”

“Stop right there,” I said, no longer willing to play. “I have always given Madison everything she needs, and that is not going to change.”

She must have realized she'd gone too far, because I got one of her rare apologies. “Sorry.” Deborah's apologies were always brief, perhaps because she had so little practice. Then she went back for a do-over. “So I hear you're seeing a new guy. Is he hot?”

“Do you want it in Fahrenheit or centigrade?”

“How about in English? Which I believe you're supposed to know something about.”

“Touché. He is pretty hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, nice butt.”

“Madison mentioned the butt.”

“He writes for the
Gazette
full-time and teaches at McQuaid part-time.”

“He's not afraid of work. I like that.”

I ran down the other specs I knew she'd be interested in: family, hobbies, pets, political leanings, and romantic history as far as I knew it. “It's early days yet, but I like him. He's funny, and he treats Madison well.”

“He'd better,” she said firmly.

“Damn straight.”

“So have you . . . ? Are you going to . . . ? Have you planned how to . . . ?”

“Deborah, are you trying to ask me if I've had sex with Fletcher?”

“God, no! I just wanted to know what you're going to do about your friend in the attic.”

“Of course I haven't told him about Sid! I've never told anybody about Sid.”

“Then what are you planning to do about him? Not necessarily with this guy, but say you do meet the right guy and want to get married. Then what?”

“If I meet Mr. Right, I'll tell him. Not on the first date, but eventually. When it's a good time.”

“When is a good time to tell a man about a walking, talking skeleton?”

“I don't know. I haven't met the right guy yet.”

“You never told Reggie.”

“A good thing, too.” I shuddered to think what my former fiancé would have done with that knowledge. In retrospect, my reluctance to share the secret of Sid should have been a clue that some part of me knew the relationship wasn't healthy. “Anyway, I don't want a guy I wouldn't be willing to introduce to Sid.”

“Meanwhile, while you're looking for this guy of your dreams, you stick Mom and Phil with the job of taking care of the skeleton.”

“One, they don't mind. Two, this is Sid's home, too—he's part of the family.”

“He's not part of the family, Georgia. He's a freak of nature.”

“As long as we're all happy with the status quo, why do you care?”

“Because I care about my parents. They've kept this big house years longer than they intended to just to make sure that they can keep that thing hidden.”

“They never said anything to me about wanting to sell the house.”

“You're not around as much as I am. Besides, they aren't getting any younger. What happens to the skeleton when they're gone? Don't expect me to take it.”

“Sid will always have a home with me.”

“You say that now, but you sure didn't mind dumping him when you moved away.”

“As if I could have taken him to a one-bedroom apartment with a toddler he didn't want seeing him.”

“And what about Madison? We don't know if it will ever die. You want Madison to be an old lady with a skeleton in her armoire, not ever being able to get married for fear of him being found out?”

“Jesus, Deborah, having Sid around has never affected Madison! Why do you hate him so much, anyway?”

“I don't hate him. I just don't want him holding you back.”

That was when Madison yelled up the stairs. “Are you guys fighting? Am I going to have to separate you two?”

“We aren't fighting,” I lied. “Your aunt just doesn't approve of my friends.”

“It's not a friend,” Deborah said. “I don't know what it is, but it's not a friend.”

I ignored her and went downstairs to wait for Fletcher. If I hadn't been so mad at my sister, I might have noticed the slight sounds from the attic. By the time I realized that Sid had heard every word we'd said, it was almost too late.