Secrets in a Still Life, Kari Ganske [best fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

back. Linc had his fingertips on my skin. He slowly spread them until his entire palm was flat against my bare spine. I felt that warmth roll through me from my back all the way to my toes and the tip of my skull. Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned into his touch, inviting more. He stepped up close behind me, not moving his hand.

"Ready to go?" he whispered by my ear in his deep voice. I nodded and signaled for Colleen. We made our way out; Linc never removing his hand from my back.

Once we reached Colleen's car, she practically shouted, "What did you find out? What was so urgent?"

"Why don't we meet at Plum Crazy to discuss. I could use something to get the awful taste of those appletinis out of my mouth," Linc suggested.

"Ugh, fine," Colleen said. She pointed a finger at us. "No talking about it while you're driving. I don't want to miss anything."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

 

 

True to our promise, Linc and I waited until we were all seated at our usual booth at Plum Crazy before talking about the memorial. Peggy Sue shot us a raised eyebrow when we sat in silence as she took our order. I didn't blame her suspicions; we were usually boisterous and chatty. Something about the conversation we were about to have seemed important. Heavy, almost. And absolutely private.

As I sat there waiting for Peggy Sue to deliver the milkshakes and basket of fries we'd ordered, I thought about the time I had an assignment in San Francisco. The Californian city, known for its cascading hills, colorful townhouses, and the Golden Gate Bridge, also had the oldest running system of trolleys. Those trolleys ran on completely electric rails and the whole city crackled with it. A slight buzz constantly played in the background of my time there. At the time it made me feel a constant mixture of excitement and anxiety—a sense of anticipation that something big was on the horizon. That's exactly how I felt right now—buzzing with anticipation. My leg jiggled under the table and I tapped my fingernails on the countertop in a frantic rhythm.

As soon as Peggy Sue delivered our order and moved out of earshot, Colleen reached across the table to still my tapping hand. "What is wrong with you?"

"I feel like we're about to solve this," I said, eyes lit with excitement.

"Spill. What did you find out?"

I reached into my clutch and pulled out the ripped pieces of the DNA test. I explained where I'd found them—ignoring Colleen's astonishment and Linc's amusement—and what I'd been able to piece together on the scene.

On the scene—geesh, I was starting to sound like Colleen.

"Why would Mike have a ripped-up copy of Jodie's DNA results?" Colleen asked.

"I asked the same thing!" I exclaimed. "Now that we have the time and space, I thought we could puzzle piece the rest of it together."

Linc voiced my earlier skepticism. "Before you two blow a blood vessel in excitement, we should at least entertain the idea that this has nothing to do with Missy's murder."

Colleen waved him away. "Sure, sure, sure. But at the very least, we'll possibly have some juicy gossip. I never have gossip beyond whose kid is still wearing diapers."

We worked together to fit the pieces back into place as we munched salty, warm fries and sipped sweet, cool milkshakes. As the scraps formed coherent information, I felt that same buzz from earlier—my heart beat like a hundred birds trying to escape my chest. When I was photographing, my body reacted in almost the same way when I knew I got the shot. There was something important here.

I leaned across the table on my elbows to get a closer look. I practically bumped heads with Linc who was doing the same thing. He may seem all nonchalant and uncaring, but I could feel his excitement growing.

Colleen said, "This doesn't look like the results from a typical send-away DNA kit. One of the parents at the preschool had one done on her precious baby angel and it was much vaguer than this. Just listed countries of origin and possible genetic diseases to look out for. This is much more detailed."

"Interesting," I said. Why would any twenty-year-old need an intricate DNA report? An assignment for a college class? Or maybe she wanted to work at Quantico or the Pentagon. I knew plenty of people who had their entire lives picked apart for the privilege of working at those two places—both of which were within driving distance from Piney Ridge.

"Okay, not a lot of surprises in this first part," Linc said, scrutinizing the pieces. "She's related to the Poledarks. Very close relation to Missy—to be expected for siblings. But I don't understand this second part." He pointed to section two of the report where the results listed the paternal information.

According to the DNA report, Jodie was also related by blood to the Vandenburgs.

"Did the samples get mixed up? Are we sure this is for Jodie and not one of Missy's kids?" Colleen asked, leaning in now too. "It doesn't make sense."

"It's definitely her results," Linc confirmed. The information on the top was clear as day.

"So what could it mean? Let's assume there wasn't cross-contamination. Why else would Jodie be related to her sister's husband's family?" I asked. Colleen was right; even if this had nothing to do with Missy's murder, it was definitely juicy gossip.

"There's some sort of incestuous connection in the lineage of the Poledarks and Vandenburgs," Linc suggested. I made an "ew" face.

"Mike's father had an affair with Missy's mother, and Jodie is their love child," Colleen suggested, eyes wide.

"What if Mike had an affair with Missy's mother, and Jodie is their love child," I said, taking the idea one