I’ve learned that for the past 16 years, our new, old house was occupied by a bachelor whom everyone called Spud.
He had asthma.
He liked whiskey.
He had 2 nieces and a nephew, all with names beginning with “D”, and he saved their school photos.
He kept a post office box in the next town over, where he received mail addressed to an alias, “Court Bar”, from a Talent Agency.
(No news about the mysterious woman, or the hats, or the kitchen cabinet art, but I will keep searching!)