The Year Package

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Skeletons in the Closet

โ„๐•–๐•“๐•–๐•œ๐•’๐•™ & โ„‚๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•ฃ๐•’๐••


"Morning Calambah." Rebekah looks up from her small fort of boxes as Conrad shuts the door behind him. His jacket is laid over his arm while he carried two large cups of coffee.

"You texted black americano, right?"

"Yes, don't tell me you got me a white americano?" Conrad walked over, placing her coffee down.

"No, I just got a strange look when I ordered it. You know it has six shots of coffee." Rebekah takes the cup off the box, ignoring the skull and bones drawing on the side of the cup just under her order.

She takes a sip of the just below scalding liquid and purses her lips, feeling the lava incinerate her insides before she speaks, "I've organised the boxes, Dominic over there." She pointed to the corner opposite them and furthest from the door. "Mae there," She pointed to the corner to her right. "And Folkwhore here." She tapped the small stack of boxes surrounding her.

Conrad gazes past her. Ten separate boxes of the luxury costume store every skeleton is in front of them.

"Is this all payslips and tax refunds?" Conrad asks, pulling a chair from the corner and lifting one fo the lids, chucking it aside much to Rebekah's dismay.

"You'd think that. If you were a lawyer for this business, what do you think their cases would be on?"

Conrad shrugs his shoulder, taking a gulp of his chocolately coffee.

"I guess, licensing, drawing up supplier contracts. Maybe the occasional franchising scuff."

"Would it surprise you that most of their cases are criminal, and they are always the prosecutor."

"Then I call bullshit," Conrad replies. Rebekah titled her head pulling out a random file from the open box, and handed it to him.

Conrad took it off her, flipping it open, here is just one of those cases. A court document where FolkWhore was prosecuting a person for harassment of one of their staff.

"Harassment did this person not get their slutty elf outfit on time or something?"

"It's unclear, but it's not the only one. Half these boxes have similar cases spreading over the last 35 years."

"35 years, that Magenta lady couldn't be more than 35."

"Well, it's a family-owned business, it's just been passed down from one woman to another. That doesn't explain the fact that these guys have way too many criminal cases under their belt. What the hell do these guys supply?"

What indeed.

A.N. Our two detectives are getting warmer, focusing on FW was a smart decision on their part. I thought because the last chapter was brief and I finished TYP that you guys would enjoy a double post.

Let me know what you think, and most importantly, thanks for reading.

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