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I nodded. “Any ID on the second one?”
“Not yet, but … Sheriff Calloway wanted me to ask you if you’ve listened to a local podcaster and if you know her. Minnie—”
“Chavez. I know her. Not well. I don’t listen to her podcasts, including the one about my father.”
“You need to listen to it.”
“Why do people keep telling me that? I mean, if someone would just relay to me what they want me to know from it, that would help.”
“I don’t know, but I think the sheriff wants your input.”
“What do you know about it?” I said sourly. I raised a hand. “Sorry. I guess I need more coffee.”
“Calloway mentioned that you don’t remember everything from back then. He thought the podcast might help fill in some blank spots.”
That wasn’t totally unfair, but I wished Calloway had told me his thoughts instead of sharing them with this man that we’d all just met. “Graham, my father disappeared just over twenty years ago. I was thirteen. I didn’t know all that my father was up to. Why would I have cared? I was a teenager. It was a long time ago. I was in shock, and it’s not like I don’t remember … everything. I just didn’t digest some details from those nearby days. And now, I’ve lived more life without my father than I had with him.”
Graham nodded. “Right, but things went on, according to Chavez—”
“What does she say?”
“Well, she was one of his students.”
I blinked at him. The surprise couldn’t have been more genuine. “What? My dad didn’t have students.”
Graham’s expression turned a bit sheepish, tinged with a tiny bit of I-told-you-so. I suspected he wished Calloway were telling me these things too. “Well, Minnie Chavez claimed he did, and that’s the direction Sheriff Calloway is looking now, at his students. He wants the students’ names.”
“Can’t he get those from Minnie?”
“She’s not giving them up. They all made some sort of vow not to tell.”
“Why?”
“There was … an incident. Look, I just listened last night. I don’t think you want me summarizing.”
I did, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. “My father taught taxidermy?”
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Ms. Dylan …”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that. You know my name. Tell me something.”
Graham took a deep breath and let it out. He’d abandoned the coffee. “Ms. Chavez, Minnie, claims that your father taught six people. They were young, teenagers at the time. She claims that your father never got their parents’ permission and that was wrong, that things happened in those classes that were …”
“What?” I screeched this time, garnering Dixie’s attention. She beelined in our direction.
“What’s up?” she asked me. “Who are you?” she asked Graham.
“Sorry, Dixie. He’s okay. His name is Graham Kucero. He’s helping Calloway. He told me some surprising news.”
“Okay?”
“Nothing important,” I said.
Dixie didn’t believe me. She angled her eyes at Graham. She didn’t need to say anything to get a nod from him that he’d behave.
