September 14th, 1899

The Sun's office was alive once more with all of the reporters busying about.  I sat at my typewriter, pencil between my teeth as my hands pressed the keys in an attempt to write another draft.

When will it ever be good enough?

Last night I had run straight up to my room after dinner to begin working with whatever I could on an article.  But what I had wasn't much.

32.  Found in an alleyway by bartender.  2 kids.  Unmarried.  Worked on the streets.

The only way I could gather more information would be to visit Jimmy's bar downtown and find the bartender who found Anne.  This is already looking more like something from a Sherlock Holmes novel than a journalist article.

I sighed and blew my bangs out of my face as I jotted my ideas down in my notebook.

A hand slapped on the page and I jumped.  I could already tell who it was.  My boss was staring down at me- most likely about to ask what I was up to and possibly fire me on the spot (it was a miracle he hadn't already).  I mustered up the best fake and polite smile I could and turned to face him.

"Is there something wrong sir?" I asked.

Snyder glared daggers at my journal before whipping his attention back to me.

"What is it you are writing about?" He asked, gesturing to the open journal.

"Oh, that?" I could nearly feel beads of sweat pool at the base of my neck, "That's the plot of a new play that is coming out."

Snyder nodded, unconvinced, "Does it have a name?" He asked.

"Murder in an Alleyway." I said quickly, internally ready to smack myself at such a stupid coverup.

"And how have I not seen this play yet?"

I fumbled for words, "Well, you see sir- they are still doing rehearsals.  But I was invited personally by Miss Medda Larkin to come watch them.  It's a secretive project that nobody was supposed to know about.  I shouldn't even be giving away this much information to you."

I winced, great job you idiot.

Snyder just nodded with an expression I couldn't read before turning and stalking back to his office.

"Back to work!" He yelled to the guys who had been watching our conversation.

I sighed in relief as I watched the glances of curiosity turned to sympathy before everyone moved onto their own writing.

"Why is he so hard on you?" The boy next to me asked, "Aren't you related?"

The boy referred to is nicknamed Race.  A lanky kid with messy blonde hair and a few freckles along his face.  He always smells of cigars and has a smart remark ready on his tongue every second.

"Just because he's my father's brother doesn't mean I have to acknowledge there is a family relationship between him and I.  I'm here because I need work- I don't need people to go easy on me."

"Out of curiosity," Race mumbled, "ain't it kinda weird that your father owns the rival printing company of your uncle- er, boss?" He quickly changed at my glare from the word uncle being used about Snyder.

"I could care less." I shrugged, "Whatever will get the news out there."

Romeo walked over and leaned over my shoulder to view my journal.

"How are you going to interview the guy down at Jimmy's?" He asked, "I don't believe they'd talk to a female reporter.  No offense to you Kath- that's their problem."

"None taken." I said, tapping my pencil against my chin as I racked my brain for any ideas that could get me an interview.

"I mean, she could always dress as a boy for it.  Surely she could find the clothes."

My eyebrows shot up at the idea and I grinned widely.

"Race, you are a genius!" I all but yelled, throwing my arms around him.

"There's words I never thought I'd hear." Romeo snorted.

Race beamed with pride, "Ya hear that Romeo? A genius!"

I pulled back and began packing my supplies, crumpling up the forgotten draft and tossing it in the bin before hurrying out the door.

"Hey can I get that genius thing in writing?" Race called out as the door shut behind me.

I just rolled my eyes with a smile before saying bye to Clara and taking the steps back down to the lobby.

• • •

I ran down the hall of Jacobs' Mortuary, slamming the doors open to the lab loud enough to wake the dead.

"Davey!"

My cousin nearly dropped the file he was holding and pressed a hand to his chest.

"Geez Katherine- could you at least warn me that you're coming before you barge in here?" He said.

"I need to borrow some of your clothes."

"Why?"

"I need an interview with the bartender at Jimmy's. They obviously won't allow a girl to report on this and my brothers took their clothes when they moved out."

Davey sighed and ran a hand over his face, setting the file on the counter and leaning against it.

"I've got some spare clothes in the back room. You never know when things get messy." Davey muttered.

"It's not that bad of an idea Dave." I heard Jack say from behind me, "Pretty genius actually."

I turned and nodded my thanks towards him.

Davey motioned to a door towards the back of the room, "Go ahead."

With those two words, I went to the back room and looked through the shirts and pants in a small pile. I grabbed a pair of grey slacks and a blue button up before locking the door and putting them on. Luckily I found a belt and tucked in the shirt before tightening the too baggy pants. I slipped my boots on once more and opened the door.

Davey looked up from the files and gave me a thumbs up before shooting a sly grin at Jack who's face was tinted a barely noticeable blush.

"What?" I asked.

"I guess I never sorted our spare clothes out, huh Jack?" Davey asked.

Jack just looked down at a journal, pretending to be writing feverishly, "That's my shirt." He mumbled.

I felt my own face burn at that. There were more important things at hand though than who's shirt I was wearing.

I put my other clothes back in my bag and rummaged around for some hair ties and bobby pins before walking over to the mirror and beginning to pin my curly hair up the best I could to give it a shorter boy-ish look.

I wasn't the greatest with hair styling. If you wanted a true work of art- you'd have to ask my sister.

When I slid the last bobby pin in place I turned to face the two again.

"How does it look?"

"Not bad Plumber." Jack said, "One thing missing though."

He went to the back room and came back out with a newsboy cap. He placed it on my head, covering the many bobby pins that stuck out.

"There." He said with a grin, "If you're gonna insist on wearing my shirt- you might as well take my hat too."

My cheeks went crimson at his statement and I cleared my throat, "Thanks."

I slung my bag over my shoulder and quickly headed for the door before hearing a "Wait!"

My hand stopped just above the door handle.

"Take Jack with you."

I whipped around to see Jack already staring at Davey with a face that could have him laying on a table next.

Davey just nodded, "The sun is going down and I don't want my little cousin in danger."

"I'm only 2 months younger than you!" I retorted.

"And the killer hasn't been found yet Katherine." Davey said firmly, "I'm making sure Sarah is escorted places too. We're not taking chances."

I glared at him stubbornly until finally caving in.

"Fine. " I groaned, "Come on Jack."

With that plan, I opened the door; heading out of the mortuary without another word.