Nun Too Soon (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 1)

by Alice Loweecey

  The table of five across the aisle from them scraped back their chairs and made a fuss with coats and last snatches of cookies.

  Giulia waited until they left. “But you could prove nothing like that was happening.”

  Shirley inclined her head. “You got it. I wasn’t accused of anything quantifiable. The more I denied it, the more Mr. HR got that look which said, ‘women can’t be trusted.’ He’s not a bad guy, but he’s old-school and thinks all women should be in low-level secretarial positions where they can’t do the company any real harm.”

  “I’ve dealt with many of those types as well,” Giulia said.

  “They piss me off and they’re always the ones you have to suck up to. Fortunately or unfortunately, six weeks after the second written warning I went on an already paid-for Vegas vacation. That was the height of the rumor trifecta. Instead of going all ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,’ half the time I obsessed about work, the other half I gambled and went to shows—also pre-paid. Came out ninety-seven bucks ahead when I checked out of the hotel.”

  Giulia gave her a thumbs-up. “That’s willpower.”

  A crooked smile. “Nah, just stubbornness. I don’t like to lose. The day I got back from vacation, the HR manager’s assistant called me five minutes after I logged in. Please come to his office at my earliest convenience. Corporate-speak for ‘right now.’ Loriela gave me her widest smile when I walked past her desk. Bitch.” She laughed again. “You get points for not saying ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead’ like my mother nags me about constantly.”

  Giulia shrugged.

  “Similar things have happened to me.”

  “Ah. You’ve had the exit interview that requires you to immediately go out and get hammered.”

  Giulia thought of her last meeting with her Superior General not quite five years ago, when Rome had dispensed her from her vows. “More or less.”

  “What a joyous exit interview that was. I ‘wasn’t a positive influence in the company anymore.’ ‘My work had not been up to the expected standards.’ All of it nice and vague and all of it damning. You can bet I talked to a lawyer that same day. Pennsylvania doesn’t recognize the implied contract exemption for at-will employment. He advised me to take my severance and walk away quietly. That way when a new employer called them to check, AtlanticEdge’s HR would play the game of just giving them ‘name, rank, and serial number.’ It’s happened to a bunch of people I know.”

  Six college-age types took over the table across the aisle from them, laughing and talking at triple the volume of the other diners. Shirley looked at her watch.

  “It’s quarter after one. I’ve gotta wrap this up. The bitch got my job and I got four weeks’ severance. Good thing my husband had landed a promotion, because it took me six months to find the job I have now. Started out bookkeeping then showed them how to coordinate the shifts better. Now I’m district coordinator. Amazing how you can get promoted without climbing a pile of your victims, isn’t it?” She tossed her napkin and silverware onto her plate. “Anything else you want to know?”

  Giulia debated for half a second. “Two pieces of office gossip. Did Ms. Gil do to anyone else what she did to you? And which of your co-workers liked Ms. Gil?”

  Shirley chewed her lip. “Walk me to my car. I have to get moving.”

  Giulia followed her out. When they could walk side by side, Shirley said, “Men liked her more than women did. The one word to describe her was ‘focused.’ She hung out with sales a lot, because they spoke the same language.”

  Playing dumb, Giulia said, “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Tips and tricks to close the bigger sale. Look at everything like it’s a deal to close. Listen to those motivational podcasts to up your game. She never came to a girls’ night out unless there was someone in the group she could use. Same with lunch.”

  They stopped at the door of an old-ish Pathfinder. Giulia had her hand out to thank her when Shirley stopped with her key in the lock.

  “You wanted to know who liked her. I think everyone did when they first met her. She had energy, she smiled a lot, she looked and dressed like a model but not enough to make women hate her for being perfect. After a couple of months, when you realized she only talked business and wouldn’t say more than hello when you weren’t in the right circles, people fell into two categories. Either they sucked up to her because she was going places or they stuck to ‘Good morning’ when they saw her.” She held out her hand.

  “Thank you,” Giulia said, shaking it. “You’ve been a big help.”

  “Glad it’s over.” She opened the car door. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contact me again.”

  Nineteen

  Zane didn’t flinch when Giulia handed him her phone again at one-forty.

  “You’re taking it like a trouper. This is the last one. I’ll take care of the paperwork for the temp while you transcribe.”

  “Crap. I forgot. Thanks. Sorry.”

  “I gave you a higher-priority task. You did right. Anything happen while I was having venom poured into my ears?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Zane,” Sidney said.

  Zane blushed, for him, which meant his ghost-pale skin didn’t quite match the stack of paper in the printer. “We weren’t going to tell you about Sidney’s water breaking because she said you’d panic.”

  “What?” Giulia leaped across the room to Sidney’s desk. “Why are you still here? Did you call Olivier? Do you need me to drive you to—”

  She stopped. Sidney lost her straight face as she pounded her desk with laughter. Behind and to Giulia’s left, Zane hiccupped.

  Giulia planted her hands on her hips. “Sidney, you evil woman. How dare you take advantage of...” She leaned against the desk and laughed. “All right. That was one of the best pranks ever.”

  “It was better than that,” Sidney said. “Zane thought it up.”

  “Zane did?” Giulia waited a beat, then went to the bottom drawer of the file cabinet next to Sidney’s desk. She took out the first aid kit, ran to Zane’s desk, and slapped one of those temperature strips onto his forehead. Zane sat frozen in place, except for the occasional stifled-laughter hiccup. Ten seconds later, Giulia forced her forehead into worry lines.

  “I don’t understand,” she said with concern. “This thing says you’re not running a fever. But you have to be sick, doesn’t he, Sidney?”

  Behind her, Sidney choked and gasped. “S-stop it—or I’ll really go into labor.”

  Slowly, Zane began to smile. “You liked the joke, Ms. Driscoll? You’re not mad?”

  Sidney groaned.

  Giulia smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead. “And he ruins it. Just when he showed promise.”

  “I’m trying,” Sidney said, switching to deep breathing exercises. “For someone so smart, he’s sure slow to pick this up.”

  “He’s young. There’s still hope. Take the thermometer off, please, Zane.”

  The door opened and the temp walked in, minus brown wig and concealing makeup.

  Giulia and Sidney, and a moment later Zane, all started laughing again.

  Jane Pierce pushed jet-black bangs off her left eye and clapped her other hand over the buzzed back of her head, without obscuring the stylized sun and moon tattoo on the right side of her neck.

  “Shush, everyone. Jane, welcome! Come on in. I don’t have your papers ready because these two just pranked me like pros.”

  Jane took half a step backward. “You’re not...I mean, you all started laughing when I opened the door, and I thought...”

  “No, no! Of course not.”

  Sidney said, “You came in right after Zane made his first joke ever. And there you stood as we all looked like loons and you were probably thinking you still had a chance to run away from the crazy people.”

  Giulia said, “That is a beautiful tattoo. Zane, since you lost me my five extra minutes, could you print out everything for me?”

&nb
sp; “Sure.” He opened a file folder and hit the print button several times. He reached up with his free hand to scratch his forehead and felt the temperature strip. With a wry smile he peeled it off and dropped it in his trash can.

  Sidney and Giulia snickered.

  Giulia took the stack of papers out of the printer.

  “Come on, Jane. I’ll prove to you we’re also professional.”

  Closed into Giulia’s office, Jane lost a little of her wariness. “My tattoo artist took me out to dinner to celebrate me being gainfully employed for the next two months. I told him about this place. He said I lucked out.”

  Giulia didn’t look up from filling in her parts of the forms. “Has he heard of us?”

  “His aunt does piercings over at Glitz, the big multi-tasking makeup and hair and ink and piercing place over on Larch. She remembered you from a couple years back when you came in to hold someone’s hand for a navel piercing.” A pause. “She said you used to be a nun. Was she kidding?”

  Giulia held up one finger while she filled in the last fields. A moment later she clicked the pen closed and slid it and the papers across her desk.

  “No, she wasn’t kidding. I remember that trip. I had to get my hair straightened for an undercover job. I told a bunch of convent stories while the chemicals cooked.” She took in Jane’s expression. “Is there a problem?”

  Jane gripped the pen.

  “Well, I’m an atheist. I didn’t know this was a religious detective agency.”

  Giulia laughed. “It’s not. I’m interested in one thing: Can you do the job? Everything else is your business.”

  “Of course I can do the job. I just thought, well...my experience with religious types hasn’t always been positive.” She stacked the forms and wrote rapidly on the top one.

  “You and Zane should get along,” Giulia said. “His whole family’s pagan and he’s Buddhist. Thanksgiving at his mother’s house is an interesting experience.”

  “Oh, cripes, don’t talk about holidays.” Jane shuffled that form to the bottom and started on the next one. “My sisters foist their spawn on me to ‘encourage me to be a proper woman.’ I love my nieces and nephews, but babysitting them isn’t going to make my womb sabotage my brain so I’ll go on a date with the dweebs they try to set me up with.”

  Giulia coughed.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” Jane said. “It’s like a bad TV reality show. This past Christmas I kept checking the tree for a hidden camera feed.” She unbuckled her black leather knapsack purse and took out her checkbook. “Thanks for having direct deposit. Sometimes my neighborhood isn’t the safest on paydays.” She voided a blank check and paper-clipped it to that form.

  As she filled out the last paper, she said, “The rainforest hates US employment rules.”

  “Even if we could do all of this electronically, I’d still keep a paper backup,” Giulia said. “There are too many ways data can be tampered with.”

  “Spoken like a cautious woman.” Jane’s pen stopped. She swallowed. Her shoulders hunched as she looked across at Giulia. “I apologize...That was inappropriate coming from the employee to the employer.”

  The employer studied the employee.

  Giulia nodded once. “Getting used to the dynamics of an office again? Let’s call this an adjustment period. Is everything complete?”

  Jane exhaled. “Um, yeah. Yes. I’m all set.” She handed everything back to Giulia.

  “Great. Oh, look. It’s only quarter to three. It ought to be midnight. Come out and meet everyone.” Giulia put her hand on the doorknob. “‘Everyone’ being a relative term.”

  She opened the door on the sound of water running in the bathroom sink.

  “Sidney, you are killing our water bill budget.” Giulia raised her voice to carry through the closed door.

  The door opened. “Mini-Sidney has no sympathy for water bills or what she’s doing to my bladder.” She sat in her desk chair with a sigh. “Or my feet.”

  Giulia tried to cover her amusement with sympathy. “Two more weeks. In the meantime, this is Jane Pierce. She will be you for the duration. Jane, this is Sidney Martin and mini-Sidney.”

  Sidney held up her hand. “Nice to meet you. Do you like alpacas?”

  Jane’s mouth opened then clicked shut. “Um...I guess.”

  “Great. We have a farm. I’ll bring you some fertilizer. Alpaca poop is the best. It’s small, it’s easy to handle, and it hardly stinks at all. Seriously.”

  Jane was starting to appear shell-shocked. Giulia swooped in. “It really is. I use it on my indoor tomato plants. Sidney, give the poor woman a chance to get her feet under her.” She turned them toward the door. “This is Zane Hall, the king of admins. Zane, Jane Pierce, Sidney’s replacement while she’s on maternity leave.”

  They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you,” Zane said. “Is that tattoo for the art or the belief?”

  Jane became a deer in the headlights.

  “Stop interrogating the new girl,” Giulia said. “We have no window to keep searching for temps. If Jane runs away I’ll be forced to hire that one who told me how completely wrong I’m running my own business.”

  Zane put his hands together and bowed. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets away from me.”

  “No problem,” Jane said. “I chose it because it symbolizes rising from the night into the new day.”

  “Nice. Sorry you got my drive-by. A former girlfriend got Japanese characters down both arms that she claimed were the kanji for ‘The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’ I don’t know what ticked her off more: When I told her she’d misquoted it or when I told her the kanji actually were the names of characters in a manga series. She walked out without paying her half of the dinner check. I bet that tattoo shop got a visit from her early the next morning.”

  “You read manga in Japanese?” Jane said. “I have to wait for the translations. Evangelion or One Piece?”

  “Both. Death Note or Fruits Basket?”

  “Do I look like a shōjo person?”

  Sidney said to Giulia, “What am I missing?”

  “They’re graphic novels. My nephews and nieces devour them, which is the only reason I understand this conversation.” Giulia waved a hand between the manga discussion. “Zane, how’s the transcribing?”

  “Done. I emailed everything to you. Here’s your phone.”

  “Excellent. Can you print them out for me by end of day?”

  He handed her five paper-clipped groups of printouts. “Anticipated and achieved. Sidney reminded me that you like to spread hard copies all over the floor like a jigsaw puzzle.”

  “A clue collage, actually. Someday I might get the phrase trademarked.” She turned to Jane. “We’ll see you at nine o’clock Monday. Remember: Business casual, but jeans are okay too. Nothing raggy is the key.”

  The phone rang. Zane got to “Good afternoon, Dris—” before the voice on the other end shouted him down. He yanked the receiver away from his ear. Jane slipped out the door. The voice got louder.

  Giulia winced. “That’s Roger Fitch. I’d better take it in my office. Don’t hang up ’til I pick up. I don’t think he’ll hear you if you try to put him on hold.”

  Giulia closed herself in, inhaled and exhaled slowly, and picked up the receiver. Fitch’s voice assaulted her ear.

  “Mr. Fitch. Mr. Fitch. I can’t understand you.” When that didn’t make a dent in his tirade, she yelled, “Shut up!”

  The voice stopped.

  “This is Giulia Falcone-Driscoll, Mr. Fitch. What is the matter?”

  Twenty

  Roger Fitch started shouting again. “My car! They trashed my car. I just paid it off last year!” He spewed curses into the phone.

  Giulia swore she could hear spittle hitting the mouthpiece at the other end.

  “Mr. Fitch. Mr. Fitch.” She paused. Again without raising her voice, “Mr. Fitch.”

  Fifteen long seconds later he ran out of steam and her steady voice repe
ating his name squeezed into a moment of silence.

  She took the advantage. “What’s happened to your car? Please don’t shout at me again or I’ll hang up the phone.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll hang up on me? I’m paying you. Who do you—”

  She hung up. Then she buzzed Zane. “He’s going to call back in a second. I’ll get it.”

  Half a minute later, the phone rang.

  “Driscoll Investigations,” Giulia said.

  “It’s Fitch. You really hung up on me.”

  “Mr. Fitch, I asked you more than once to modulate your voice. I am a professional, as are you. I expect to be treated as such. In return, I will do the same. Is that clear?”

  A pause. “Are you sure you’re not related to my domineering great-aunt? Okay. Sorry I lost it.”

  “Thank you. Now please tell me what happened to your car.”

  “I was out late last night. Didn’t get up ’til noon and had to keep the blinds closed for an hour, if you know what I mean. It’s sunny today.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “I went down to the parking lot around two to get some groceries. No car. Walked through the lot twice. Nothing. I was sure I remembered parking at the far end of the first row when I came home, next to old lady Asher’s pink VW Bug.” He made a gagging noise, but sobered up right away. “This skinny broad who lives below me opened her window. She had to talk loud so I could hear her over her brat squalling inside. Said she saw two guys jimmy my lock and drive away about half an hour earlier. She called the cops but then her kid woke up and she didn’t have time to come upstairs to tell me.”

  Giulia was typing into an open Word doc. “Did the police come around while you were still in the parking lot?”

  “Yeah, two uniforms showed up. The skinny broad came out with her kid—quiet by then, thank God—and told them what she’d seen. I gave them make and model and license plate. I was mad enough to punch right through the glass entrance door of the building.”