Every House Has a Secret - 17

 

 

"This fits our theory," Brady told Rand that evening, showing him the obituary.

 

"It's got to be the shortest one on record," Rand replied. "It doesn't even say what he did for a living."

 

Brady smiled briefly. "You noticed that, huh? If this is our man, at least we've got a middle name for him, now. Winthrop."

 

"With a name like that…" Rand shuddered. "Have you had a chance to look for any more information on him?"

 

"Not yet. I also have to check the serial number for the gun, to see who the registered owner is."

 

"Or owners," Rand pointed out, getting a nod from his husband. "I can search the Register's archives tomorrow, to see if we did any stories on Hodges."

 

"Go for it," Brady replied as he got up from the dinner table, going to their desk to get the box from the bottom drawer. He took out the gun, checked the butt of the grip, and wrote down the numbers engraved on the ID plate. "Why don't you do the dishes while I see what I can find out," he said, turning on his laptop.

 

"Hell of a way to get out of cleaning up," Rand retorted.

 

Brady grinned. "Whatever works." He went to the site he needed and input the numbers. "I think we're SOL," he muttered.

 

"What's wrong?" Rand asked.

 

"The serial number's not legit. Well the first three digits are, but not the rest. My guess is the gun was stolen, the serial number changed, and then it was sold under the table to Hodges or whoever he got it from."

 

"Well, hell. What about fingerprints?"

 

"If it was used in a crime, I suspect it was wiped clean. Even an amateur knows enough to do that, and to wear gloves when it comes down to it." Brady set the gun back in the box, put it away, and turned off the laptop. "Ready to go?"

 

"You're not going to do anymore searching?"

 

"We have a living room to plaster," Brady replied. "It won't get done if we play around here."

 

"But… Yeah, you're right." Rand got their coveralls from the dryer and they took off.

 

* * * *

 

"Finally," Rand said a couple of hours later, looking at the wall beside the fireplace. "When it's painted no one will be able to tell there was any damage."

 

"That is the idea." Brady gave him a hug. "Now, what's next?"

 

"Getting rid of the throw rugs in the library."

 

That took all of ten minutes. 

 

"Do we want to start cleaning the woodwork tonight?" Brady asked.

 

"You might, I don't. I want to go home and—"

 

"We are not doing any more research on Hodges tonight."

 

Rand grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of researching your body."

 

"Well, if you insist, although I think you know every inch of it by now."

 

"Yeah, but I should double-check, just in case."

 

Brady laughed. "That's you story and you're sticking to it."

 

Rand did 'research' Brady's body; from head to toe, outside and in, before they spooned together and fell to sleep.