Keep Her Safe(78)

“This is my cousin,” I lie. “She’s visiting from out of town.”

“Oh! Cousin. Of course.” Chelsea tucks a strand of golden-brown hair behind her ear, the relief on her face unmistakable.

“Fourth cousin, twice removed. We could legally marry.” Gracie ropes her arm around my back, sending my blood racing.

I do my best to ignore her touch and slip forward the piece of paper. “Can you check these names against your records?”

With another fleeting glance Gracie’s way, Chelsea accepts the slip of paper. “Give me a few minutes, okay?”

I wait until she’s out of earshot. “Fourth cousins, twice removed? Is that a real thing?”

“I have no idea, but the look on her face was totally worth it.” Gracie’s arm slips away, and I miss it instantly.

“These kinds of searches normally cost money and take days, if not weeks. And she knows I’m not here for work. This information isn’t available to just anyone. She’s doing us a huge favor.”

“She’s not doing me the favor,” Gracie mutters, studying her fingernails.

And it clicks. I can’t help my grin at even the possibility.

She looks up in time to catch it. “What?”

“Nothing. Just, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” I brace myself for a punch or a kick.

She lets out a derisive snort instead. “Whatever. I’ll be in the restroom.” She wanders away, but not before I catch the flush of her cheeks.



* * *



“There’s no Betsy or Elizabeth Richards in the system with that birth date, or even that birth year.”

“And you checked Nesbitt, too, right?” Gracie asks, citing Betsy’s father Brian’s last name.

“I checked them all,” Chelsea explains with an overly sweet smile.

Gracie’s face crumples with disappointment.

Chelsea turns her attention back to me. “This isn’t a bad thing. It means she’s alive, right?”

“Or she died in another state.”

“Well . . . I could put in a call for you with the national registry office. It’ll take a bit to hear back, though.”

I was hoping she’d offer that, and that I wouldn’t have to ask. “Thanks, Chelsea. You’re the best.”

She grins, flirtier this time. “Don’t you know it. See you soon?”

“Definitely.” I trail Gracie out, keeping my forced smile on until I’m past the doors. “Don’t worry, we still have plenty of places to check. Real estate records, voter records, the DMV, the IRS . . .”

“How long will that take?”

“A while,” I admit reluctantly. Weeks. Months.

“Aren’t there any cute girls you can bat your eyelashes at to speed that up?” she mutters sourly, walking ahead of me, her hips swinging with each step.

I struggle to smother my smile. “You hungry yet? We could grab food and then, I don’t know, drive around Austin and—”

“Track down this Mantis asshole?”

A flashback of those hard, beady eyes hits me and Dina’s plea to keep Gracie safe, to not let her get herself into trouble by being her usual bullheaded self, fills my head. “How about we do the opposite and stay far away from him?”

“Fine,” she mutters reluctantly. She purses her lips. “Do you remember where my house was?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because maybe there’s a chance my dad hid this video there and it somehow got missed.”

“Gracie, it’s been fourteen years! There’s no way—”

“It’s worth checking!” She throws her arms out to the sides. “What the hell else do we have to do anyway?”

“Well . . . I could turn the heat on in the pool and—”

“Really, Noah? Let’s take a break from figuring out who murdered my dad and go swimming?”

I heave a sigh and mutter, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”





CHAPTER 35


Commander Jackie Marshall

April 25, 2003

“Alright, Gary Bird. Time to go inside!” I holler, grasping the young dandelion by its base to give it a good yank. This time next week, our front garden will be overgrown with them again.

“It’s Larry Bird, Mom,” Noah corrects with annoyance. “And it’s Friday.”

“And too late for bouncing balls. Respect the neighbors.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tucks his basketball under his gangly arm and trudges up the pathway. At eleven years old, he’s just inches shy of meeting me in height.

“You spendin’ the night, Jenson?”

“If that’s okay with you, ma’am.”

I give Jenson’s ginger hair a muss. “You know you’re always welcome. Go on, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chirp in unison.

But Noah lags behind, a frown zagging across his forehead.

“What’s the matter?”

“Did Abe say if he was gonna stop by tonight?”

My stomach knots at the mention of Abe’s name. I haven’t talked to him since he came here looking to tear my head off. “He’s workin’ tonight.”