Page 9 of Southernmost Murder

I groaned and scrubbed my face hard. A few more minutes of this and I’d be asleep on my keyboard again. It was taking forever because I’d decided to watch more than just this morning. What if someone had… hidden in the house overnight or something? I wanted to cover all my bases, even though so far no one but tourists had come into the view of cameras.

Thebeep,boop,beepof an incoming Skype call caught my attention, and I dragged my hands from my face. My webcam turned on and my trouble-prone antiquing friend, Sebastian Snow, popped on the screen. We’d known each other from back in the day, when I still worked in a New York pawnshop and he was only daydreaming about his own business. Now he ran a cool, albeit bizarre, shop in the East Village and was doing quite well for himself.

“Hey, cutie,” I said. “You saved my life.”

“I did?” Sebastian asked.

“Sure. I’ve been going through mind-numbingly boring security footage. You’re looking great.” That wasn’t a lie. Sebastian had never been my type, but since he started seeing that new boyfriend of his, I’d noticed he looked healthier the last few times we’d talked business. And happier. He glowed, I guess. “Is that a blue shirt?”

Sebastian looked down briefly. “So I’m told. Why are you watching security footage?”

“What? No,Aubrey, you’re looking dashing as well?”

“You look dashing,” he replied. “What footage?”

“You’ve got a sick obsession.”

Sebastian adjusted his glasses. “This sort of stuff sticks to me like shit on shoe treads.”

“Now there’s some imagery.”

“Is everything okay down there?”

I frowned and leaned to the side to open a filing cabinet. “Not sure.” I reached into the very back and retrieved a hidden pack of cigarettes. I straightened in the chair, looked at the computer screen, and pulled a stick free from the crumpled packaging. “You’ve got to promise not to look at me like I’m a crazy person.”

“All right.”

I put the cigarette between my lips but resisted lighting it. Just the motion and feel of it was almost satisfying enough. “This morning,” I mumbled. “I was in the closet—”

Sebastian grinned.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was in the closet, getting ready to remove some wallpaper in the historical home. I found a false wall.”

He perked up and leaned closer to the screen. God, he needed some new hobbies.

“And, uh… a skeleton—”

“Skeleton?” Sebastian protested over me.

I shushed him, as if it really mattered. “A skeleton was there. I swear to God, I saw it. It scared the piss out of me.”

Sebastian raised his hands out, palms up. “And?”

“And—what?”

“You found a skeleton. What did you do with it?”

“You’re way too calm about this,” I said, removing the cigarette from my mouth. “I called the police. A detective showed up, I brought him upstairs, and it was gone.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He looked like a dog who’d found a tire and was readying to chase it. “I assume by skeleton, you mean it was not… fresh.”

“No. It was old, but I can’t give it an age. I prefer dating nautical artifacts, not human remains.”

“Any idea who it might have been?”