Bea stood in the mail room with her hands on her hips. It seemed like each time she solved a problem, a new one cropped up. Just last night she had managed to get the window above her kitchen sink to close. She had been thrilled, the cold had been becoming a problem. She thought back to the victory dance she had done, now looking at the piles of mail in the mail room she wondered if the frog had been right. He had said the dance was too much, over the top, not appropriate given the recent events in St. Abel. It was a remarkably rude frog, Bea thought, maybe I should give it a name so I have something more specific to direct my anger at than, 'The Frog'.

Bea picked up a package from on top of the nearest bin. The package was for Jackie Redford, but the return address was blacked out, all Bea could make out was 'Ackeri'. Maybe it was the street name, possibly Ackeridge, no way to know for sure. From then on Bea called the frog Ackeridge.

Looking around at the rest of the mail Bea thought it looked like an infestation, there was never this much mail at the Foxberry. She decided to go ahead and run Jackie's package up to her in an attempt to feel like she'd gotten something done that day. She looked around quickly and figured it wouldn't hurt to grab the other packages that had been strewn about as well. She dropped the six packages into a rolling bin and headed for the service elevator. She dropped the packages off in no particular order, usually she would go all the way to the top floor that needed a package and work her way down. However, today she wasn't in any particular hurry to get back to the sorting that awaited her in the mailroom, and she enjoyed riding the service elevator.

She dropped the packages off as she pulled them out of the bin. Bret, Jackie, Billy Bob, Ren, Azula, Evelyn. She thought it was odd that they had all mentioned for her not to come into the apartment as the accepted their packages, she never came past the threshold on a delivery. Today though each package recipient had mentioned that they had gotten lice and didn't want Bea to catch any. Azula had mentioned that she'd gotten it a few days ago, and it probably wasn't an issue anymore, but had warned her just to be safe Which was nice of them, but how odd that all of the people who had received packages also had lice?

        Bea sat back. She had been through Evans' mail at least three times and couldn't find anything straightforward about how he may have died. Everything from his 'Old Friend' was cryptic, or outright absurd. He spent so much time talking about all of the antique knives he had collected, and not only in one letter. Almost every letter had a mention of a new knife 'Old Friend' had acquired.

Bea sighed exasperatedly. Then it hit her. The cutlery museum. She leapt up, grabbed her coat, and was out the door in a flash with the most recent letter still clutched in her hand. She ran so quickly down the street that she barely had time to realize how there seemed to be fewer frogs about than usual before she was throwing open the museum door. 

Once inside the museum, Bea made her way directly to the knives. For the first time since racing out the door, Bea realized how unprepared she was to go searching for murder evidence in a cutlery museum. Even if she did find something, how could she tell the police when opening the mail in the first place was illegal? She took another deep breath and shook out the letter she had brought with her. The first knife mentioned was a simple one, so old it was brown with age and didn't have any sort of fancy metal work. Bea found the knife quickly, but there was nothing about it that seemed special or out of the ordinary. the same went for two of the other knives mentioned in the letter. The last one though, an old carving Knife, was nowhere to be found. Bea bit the inside of her cheek, she had had a theory that the 'Old Friend' might work at the museum, but now she supposed that she may not have been finding the knives mentioned in the letter at all, just similar ones. She decided to make her way home and sleep on it.

Now that she wasn't in a hurry, the frogs became much more obvious. She picked her way home trying to ignore them, but when she got back to her apartment there was a frog right at her door. It turned to her with almost human like movements, and spoke. With the same voice as the voice inside her head.