Nun But The Brave (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 3) by Alice Loweecey

big enough at the casino to get herself set up. She tried to talk me into going in on it with her, but I have no patience with that end of the world stuff.” The sound of car horns cut her off. “Quit shoving mascara on your eyelashes at rush hour, idiot! Sorry, Ms. Driscoll. Nobody knows how to drive anymore. So, yeah, doomsdayers. If the bombs drop, I’m driving to Ground Zero. No reason to hang around without indoor plumbing and limeades from Sonic, that’s what I say.” More horns, but Diane kept on topic. “The last time Joanne got dumped, she swore she was going to find a decent guy if she had to register on every dating site around.”
    “By any chance, would you have her logins?”
    “Nope. She kept parts of her sex life to herself. I’m pulling into my work parking lot now. Give me a few minutes and I’ll send you every username I know she rotated through. Can’t help you with passwords, though.”
    When Diane hung up, Giulia called Frank. “Oh, good, I didn’t wake you. Could you log in to your database and check on an abandoned car? My client’s sister said the police never located it.” She gave him the license plate number.
    Frank’s tired voice said, “I love your unexpected romantic requests. Just a sec.”
    She heard him typing and the chime of a finished search. “It’s in one of the Pittsburgh impound lots. Found three weeks ago behind a grade school.”
    “Rats.”
    Frank laughed. “Such language.”
    She made a face at the phone. “Thank you and go to bed.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    The email from Diane arrived as she growled at the phone, “Don’t call me ma’am.”
    Without preamble, it listed seven similar usernames and a corresponding list of dating sites with the largest TV advertising presence.
    Giulia wilted. Not for the first time, she wished cloning technology existed, because this case needed two or three Giulias. But wait…She pulled the stacks of Joanne’s bills toward her. Right. She knew which three sites to search. Not so intimidating after all. She closed the email for now and continued with her planned research.
    This time from the box of Joanne’s papers Giulia took every single receipt and sorted them based on information from Chef Eddie and Cat Lady Marjorie. In a short time, she had a definite trail. Army-Navy stores. The water purifier. Camping gear that didn’t require batteries or electricity. In addition to the heirloom seeds, disease-resistant wheat and barley. A book on substituting honey for sugar in recipes. Another on the spiritual connection of twins. A third about surgically separated conjoined twins.
    She stood and straightened her back. Nine thirty. Time for tea. Since little Zlatan was forcing her to curb her caffeine intake, she’d been driven to herbal tea. So far every flavor was a penance, albeit a much different penance than the ones she’d received after confession in her convent days. Perspective was everything now that she didn’t have to scrub the convent kitchen with a toothbrush because she’d neglected one of the many sets of daily prayers.
    She sipped the next flavor in her sampler: mango ginger.
    Not worth taking a second sip. Her whole body longed for another tall French roast with cinnamon syrup.
    Sidney and Zane were both typing when she took the cup to the bathroom sink to dump its contents.
    “Which tea failed today?” Sidney said.
    “Mango ginger.” Giulia came to the bathroom door, drying the cup. “This child owes me so much coffee.”
    Zane laughed. “My sister said the same thing for both her pregnancies, but for her it was cheeseburgers.”
    Giulia swallowed. The thought of lovely chargrilled red meat wasn’t so lovely at this hour of the morning. “May I hijack both of you for a few minutes?”
    “I’m almost finished with the deadbeat dad report,” Zane said. “Do you want me to stop?”
    “No. That comes first. Sidney, could you look up news stories involving twins? Go back a year from February and