Zander:
Some friends and I were checking online records last night and we came across two entries for Frank Joseph Pierce. One was for my uncle. The other was for a child who died in 1956. But here’s the troubling thing: Both of them share the same birth certificate.
Kurt:
What?
Zander:
Nora Bradford was there. She’s a genealogist, and she suggested that my uncle Frank might’ve assumed the identity of the deceased Frank Pierce. Would my uncle’s fingerprints have been taken during the autopsy?
Kurt:
Yes, they would have.
Zander:
I’m wondering if they could confirm his identity. Either as Frank Pierce or as ... someone else.
Kurt:
I’ll check to see if the prints have been run. If not, I’ll make sure that they are. Then I’ll get back to you with results.
Chapter
three
Why in the world would I want to put dark chocolate and red pepper in my mouth at the same time?” Nikki Clarkson demanded the next afternoon. “If I want to eat a red pepper, Britt, I’ll order chili at The Griddle. And you know how suspicious I am about dark chocolate on principle. I like my chocolate with plenty of milk and plenty of sugar, thank you very much.”
“Don’t you think it’s good for the soul to try new things?” Britt asked. It was good for her soul, heaven knew. She’d wither away from boredom if she had to do the same thing and eat the same thing and look at the same things every day.
“What’s good for my soul at this particular moment is a milk chocolate pecan turtle.” Nikki pointed a long French-manicured fingernail at Sweet Art’s display case. “I’ll take that one there, third from the end, because it’s the biggest.”
