How to Pursue a DNA Clue: A Mags and Biddy Genealogy Mystery Book Six by Eliza Watson

Author:Eliza Watson [Watson, Eliza]
Language: eng
Format: epub

I called Gretta from my car while still in Rosie’s drive and discovered Tommy was gone. I told her I’d be right over. I was about to pull out when my phone rang. Noah.

“The fella emailed back. Refuses to ring me. He agreed to be exchanging emails tomorrow night, half six.”

Of course the person wouldn’t talk on the phone. That’d help us determine his nationality, age, and other identifying details. Why would he wait until tomorrow night and not want to know what Noah had to say ASAP? After all, he’d hired Noah and had him impersonating a police detective within twenty-four hours of Gretta appearing as Pringle’s match.

“No worries though,” he said. “My pal is working on getting the location for the IP address. Might be able to figure out the person’s name and address.”

“How’s he doing that?”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.”

As if a computer hacker would even begin to compare with a forger, kidnapper, murderer, and other degenerates I’d encountered over the past year.

“That’s fine. You need to do the emailing at my house so I can monitor your exchange.” And make sure Noah didn’t blow it. “We’ll let the guy think you know the identity and location of Gretta’s supposed half-sibling match. That Gretta has a few questions before she shares the information with him. Be here by six to prepare.”

“That’s grand. I’m off at five.”

Even if Noah’s buddy pinpointed the IP location, the address might have been rerouted, or it might have been a random location and the bad guy just happened to have been passing through Holyhock. It wouldn’t be worth my time and money to fly over to Scotland and skulk around the Holyhock IP address area waiting to discover the person’s identity.

However, it’d only be about an hour drive for Ian. He seemed intrigued by genealogy and my mystery solving. Perhaps he'd like to do a bit of sleuthing himself...

I hadn’t told Gretta about coming across the name Bodkin last night, since I’d failed to find a local familiar with anyone by the name. And M.R. Pringle, like Cousin Millie, might not have a clue about genealogy research. I’d figured he might be way off on assuming he had a Bodkin connection.

But I had to share the info with Gretta now.

Gretta was sitting in the dark in her yellow living room. Even the Christmas tree lights weren’t twinkling. She appeared groggy. Apparently she’d popped an antianxiety or sleep med after discovering Noah wasn’t a legit detective and a bad guy might be after her grandson. And her cousin Millie might be the bad guy. Yet Gretta wasn’t grasping what I was trying to tell her about the Bodkin connection.

I once again recounted my visit with Rosie.

Gretta stared at me through slitty lids. “Was a nice lad, Sean. I always thought Rosie’s last name was Connolly.”

“It is Connolly. Sean was adopted. His biological name was Bodkin.”

“Ah, right, then.” She nodded, but the light wasn’t going on. Gretta massaged her forehead, struggling to sort out my confusing story.

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