Nun Too Soon (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 1) by Alice Loweecey Page B

of mine.”
    “Then reveal some secrets to me so I can fit it in with these photographs and other reports.”
    Frank unstapled the pages. “Come closer, my child, and let Papa Driscoll explain forensic DNA to you.”
    Giulia sat cross-legged next to him. “My spirit is open to absorb your wisdom.”
    Frank’s eyes skewed sideways at her. “Don’t use your Sister Regina voice. It freaks me out.”
    She kissed his cheek. “All part of my plan to keep our marriage fresh by keeping you slightly off-balance. Cosmo says so.”
    “I don’t trust that magazine.”
    “Focus, Mr. Driscoll.”
    “Right. DNA. Let’s start with this table of alleles for a nasal mucus sample.”
    Frank took her through alleles and loci and short tandem repeats. “STRs. Easier to say and most cops and lawyers know what they are nowadays. This table shows samples from—damn—eight people—the dead girlfriend, the suspect, the cleaning lady, the apartment building manager, the landscaper, and one—two—three other names, probably the friends who hung around most.”
    “Those suspects are so obvious they’re cliché.”
    “Don’t knock every cliché. There’s a reason the obvious suspects became cliché.”
    “Yes, O guru.”
    “Stop it. Okay, see where the numbers of the dead girlfriend are the only ones that match the mucus sample exactly? Sometimes the chart shows matches that are too close to call, but not here. See how it says that sample two—the piano player—is ‘included’ and everyone else is ‘excluded’ as possible matches?”
    Giulia raised her finger from the page where she had been following Frank’s explanation. “All right. I’ve got the basics of this chart. What about the electropherograms over here?”
    Frank described peaks and “off-ladder” loci and ambiguities. “There’s also what’s called ‘noise.’ You’ve got a little of that here in this urea crystal sample on page four.” He picked up three different pages from the initial charts and after that two more pages of electropherograms. “None of the samples appear to be degraded. That’ll make things easier for you.”
    A few minutes later, as Giulia was repacking the shipping box, she gave Frank her best “stop the erring student in his tracks” stare.
    “You’re giving up much easier than usual.”
    Her husband’s eyebrows raised in comic innocence. “What do you mean?”
    “Come on. Recall last year when we ran DI together. How many times did we argue over method versus means?”
    “Forget that. What about justice versus logic?”
    “Exactly.” She set the box on the hall table. “So allow me to rephrase my observation: Why are you so calm and cooperative tonight? Yesterday you treated this case like it was a joke whose punch line I didn’t get.”
    “Oh, muirnín. I’m sorry.” Frank jumped up from the couch and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I have a mouth like an asal .”
    Giulia snorted before she could stop herself. “You are not a jackass. You do, however, lack a reliable internal censor.”
    Frank turned her around and kissed her. “Then I won’t mention how unladylike it is to snort.” Before Giulia could protest, he said, “Seriously, you know I’m all for giving you any advice or bits of knowledge I have if it’ll further DI’s reputation. Gotta keep my reputation for incisive sleuthing intact.”
    “ Your reputation?” Giulia’s voice jumped half an octave.
    Frank wrestled her onto the couch and tickled her into gasping submission.

Ten

      
    Roger Fitch arrived at Driscoll Investigations at nine o’clock Thursday morning dressed in jeans and a Steelers jersey under a leather jacket. He clutched a V8 energy drink like it alone could drag him into communication with his fellow human beings.
    “Good morning,” Giulia said, mentally contrasting his hangover-chic to her neat brown wool trousers and jade-green sweater. “Please have a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.” She indicated