Page 36 of Tangled
That Gracie would have a relationship with another woman didn’t surprise Scarlett—she’d always been attracted to, and attractive to, both sexes. What did surprise her, though, was that she’d texted about it. For someone as private as Gracie, that seemed unusual.
“Were the texts both ways?” she asked.
“Gracie responded, although the graphic ones all came from Lupita,” Sabina replied.
“And the number? I assume you’ve traced that. Or tried?” William asked.
“Lupita is either almost as good as me and my team, or she has people working for her who are. We are tracing it, but the connection bounced all over the world. We’ll get there—it will just take a little time.”
“Okay, what else?” Scarlett asked as Brad joined them with a huge platter of pancakes. Ethan had already set the table and brought all the fixings over.
“Kara reached out to the coroner. She was directed to destroy all the samples she took. She didn’t. She comes from a neighborhood similar to the one you and Gracie grew up in, and she didn’t like the police telling her what to do with the discarded body of a Latina woman. She’s going to send the samples to a lab that we use for DNA testing.”
“That’s good news, right?” Brad asked, shoving the platter of pancakes in front of her. Realizing that no one would take anyuntil she took hers, she dished two onto her plate. Then she grabbed a third before sliding it to William.
“If the father of Gracie’s baby is in the system, then the fetus’s DNA will give us his identity. It won’t tell us if he killed her, but we’ll at least have a name for a suspect,” Ethan said, helping himself to a stack.
“Which is more than we have now,” Sabina added.
“How long will that take?” Scarlett asked.
“A week if they aren’t backlogged. They usually give us priority, but sometimes, that’s not possible,” Sabina replied.
Scarlett took a bite of her breakfast. She’d never thought of herself as a pancake fan. It wasn’t a food she grew up with, nor was it one commonly served in the areas she worked. Brad had converted her, though. Not only were they delicious, the perfect blend of lightly sweet with a touch of savory, but they seemed to help settle her stomach. Maybe between the sex and the pancakes, she’d make it through the next few weeks without feeling like death? She smiled to herself at the thought. It had appeal.
“Anything else?” she asked, returning her attention to the conversation.
Sabina finished her bite, then wagged her head. “There are a couple of big files on Gracie’s phone that we haven’t recovered yet. Ava is working on those today.”
“We also tagged Katz’s and Kimmie Garza’s cars. They’re both staying at the bed-and-breakfast so it was easy to do. Now we’ll be able to monitor their movements. At least until Ryan gets the warrant to arrest Kimmie for the B&E of Scarlett’s studio,” Ethan said.
“Any idea on when that might be?” Brad asked.
“He thought today, the last I talked to him,” Ethan replied.
“Any signs of Petrov?” William asked, having polished off his three pancakes already.
Ethan shook his head. “As a gun for hire, it’s not going to look good if he doesn’t complete the job, so we assume he’s around someplace.”
“We’re looking at rentals and have an eye on the hotel north of town, too. We know he’s not here at the lodge or the bed-and-breakfast,” Sabina added.
William nodded, then turned to her. “I know you’re not feeling well. I remember when my wife Genevieve went through it with Ethan’s dad. I felt helpless and miserable, but it was nothing to how she felt. There is a silver lining to it, though.”
If there was a silver lining, Scarlett didn’t see it, and she arched a brow in question.
William smiled. “This family tends to attract or raise very strong women. I’m sorry you’re feeling so poorly, but I’m guessing it’s making it easier to convince you to stay here in the apartment and out of sight.”
“Gramps,” Brad said with a frown, but Scarlett laughed.
“There’s some truth to that and you know it, Brad,” she admitted. “For the first time in weeks, I feel as if I can rest. And while every now and then it feels overindulgent and as if I should be outdoingsomething—”
“You shouldn’t,” Brad insisted.
She smiled at him. “But while it feels indulgent,” she repeated, “when I contemplate doing anything other than sleeping, or walking the thirty feet to the living room, my body is happy to remind me that it’s not a good idea. So, yes, you’re right, William, I haven’t put up a fuss about handing over pretty much everything to either Brad or HICC.”
William patted her hand. “Listen to your body. Especially your heart. It’s not an indulgence, it’s smart. If something happens to you, it’s not only you that will be hurt. There are two other people you are responsible for now.”
“She’s not responsible for me, Gramps,” Brad interjected.
