Skeleton Letters by Laura Childs

digs?”
    â€œBoth,” said Applegate. “It seems that whenever we unearth a tasty item, then get the metallurgic report back attesting to its authenticity, we have . . . how shall I phrase this? . . . another theft.”
    â€œYou’re thinking an inside job?” Carmela asked. If so, this information could put a whole new spin on things.
    â€œIt’s crossed my mind,” said Applegate, giving a little frown.
    â€œAgain, what do you want from me?”
    â€œReally,” said Applegate, “I’m just trying to get an impression of what you might have seen.”
    â€œI didn’t see much,” said Carmela.
    â€œMan? Woman?” asked Applegate.
    â€œIt’s in the report,” Carmela said. She leaned back in her chair and gave a couple of nervous bounces. “But I’m pretty sure it was a man.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œJust the way he moved. A certain . . . strength. A sureness. And he seemed taller than Byrle. Huskier.”
    â€œBut the assailant was wearing a robe,” said Applegate.
    â€œThat tosses a wrench into things,” Carmela admitted. “A monk’s robe does add a good deal of volume.” And maybe hides a smaller figure?
    â€œAnything else come to mind?” asked Applegate. “Anything you recall, any feeling you had?”
    Carmela let her mind wander back to St. Tristan’s, and the vision of Byrle’s struggle suddenly played in her head like a bad YouTube video. “Just that the whole thing felt incredibly vicious,” Carmela finally said.
    The two of them sat there for a few moments, the murder hanging in the air between them like some kind of shared bad dream. Then Applegate rose from her chair and said, “You’ve been a big help.”
    No, I haven’t , thought Carmela.
    â€œDo the police know about the other missing items?” Carmela asked.
    â€œThey do. Although I can’t say they’ve taken our reports all that seriously.”
    â€œWhich is why,” said Carmela, “you’re talking to me?”
    Applegate stuck out a hand. “Thanks again. I appreciate your input.”
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    â€œOh, that’s cool,” said Gabby, peering over Carmela’s shoulder at the repeated image on her iMac screen. “What is it?”
    â€œA step-and-repeat,” said Carmela, continuing to click away.
    â€œA step and what?”
    â€œYou know, when you see celebrities on those red carpet preshows?” said Carmela. “And there’s a backdrop that says Bulgari or Tiffany or Mercedes-Benz ?”
    Gabby nodded. “Sure.”
    â€œThat backdrop’s called a step-and-repeat.”
    â€œSo kind of a sponsor’s backdrop. For name recognition and to make sure their logo gets seen in photographs and stuff.”
    â€œMarketing buzz,” said Carmela.
    â€œHow do you know all this stuff?” asked Gabby.
    Carmela shrugged. “I don’t know. Just picked it up, I guess. Probably from watching too much junk TV. TMZ , The Daily Ten , E News Entertainment .”
    â€œYou really watch that stuff?”
    â€œSometimes,” said Carmela. “If it doesn’t burn my eyeballs too badly.”
    Gabby grinned. “My guilty pleasures, along with Belgian chocolate, are those Real Housewives shows. I’m wild over the housewives from New Jersey; those ladies are pistols!”
    â€œMaybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll have a casting call for New Orleans housewives,” laughed Carmela. “You could end up a reality TV star.”
    â€œOh no, I could never do that,” said Gabby. “Stuart would never . . . he would never allow it.”
    â€œSweetie,” said Carmela, “you can’t go through life worrying what Stuart does or doesn’t approve of. Life’s too short.”
    â€œBut he’s my husband,” said Gabby, suddenly looking very wifely and demure.
    â€œMy point