House of the Rising Nun

by Dakota Cassidy

  I gave him a nod and a wink and whispered back, “I am.”

  “Once the police are done here with all of us, I’m going to take Livingston home. Mr. Cranky McCrank’s feathers are a little ruffled with all the commotion. That okay with you?”

  I smiled up at him in his Inspector Clouseau fedora. “You’re such a blessing, Knuckles. Thank you, that would be awesome. Oh, and I didn’t get the chance to tell you, but you, sir, look ahh-mazing,” I said as I tapped a nail on his overly large magnifying glass.

  Goose came up behind him and slapped Knuckles on the back and chucked me under the chin. “Don’t we make a hoot of a pair? It’s our homage to you and your crazy mystery-lovin’.”

  Goose’s eyes, so bright and alert, made me smile. “I’m honored. You guys look terrific. I’m sorry tonight ended the way it did, before we had a chance to cut a rug.”

  Goose nodded, the dark wig he wore now a little lopsided on his balding head. “Darn shame. I liked Dr. Mickey. Good guy, for sure.”

  My heart clenched in my chest. This was a tough one for me, too. I respected Dr. Mickey, and while I didn’t know him well, we’d exchanged pleasantries and chatted every time he came into the shelter. I’d miss our conversations about anything and everything, and his sound advice on how to get the guys to brush every chance they could.

  As I looked around the room, noting the fluorescent lights, an overwhelming sadness crept into my bones. In the stark light, everything was somehow more disturbing.

  “Did you guys see anything? Hear anything? Have any idea what the heck happened?”

  Knuckles scratched his beard and shook his head. “Just that Nadia screamin.’ She’s a nice gal. Dr. Mickey wasn’t my dentist. Dr. Fabrizio, his partner, is my guy, but I liked him just the same. He did a lot for the community.”

  I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I glanced around the room at the huddles of people, their faces in various stages of shock and alarm. “Maybe it was his health? Something no one knew about?”

  “You were already thinkin’ murder, Trixie?” Goose crowed, his face forming a frown. “Maybe we oughta take that Netflix away from her, eh, Knuck? Puttin’ too many ideas in your pretty head.”

  I narrowed my gaze at him. “You could do that, but I’d have to hunt you down and kill you,” I teased.

  He snickered and squeezed my shoulder. “All I know is, I didn’t see anything until I heard Nadia scream. We were chattin’ up the ladies from the law offices. My mind was otherwise occupied. But like Knuck said, he was a great guy, and a good influence on the men here at the shelter. He’ll be missed.”

  “Have you ever seen anyone angry with him? Arguing with him?”

  I know I was grasping at straws, but it never hurt to ask. Stevie always said, you never know if what someone inadvertently hears could turn out to be a vital piece of evidence later.

  Goose shook his head and pulled up the collar of his Columbo trench coat. “Nope. Sorry I can’t help. Now I gotta get to gettin’. I have a date tomorrow with one of the nice ladies from Stein and Sampson.”

  Knuckles slapped Goose on the back with a light chuckle and whispered, “You old dog!”

  Goose winked, his right eye crinkling at the corner. “An old dog who’s got him some new tricks. I’ll see you guys on Monday. Trixie, you be good, and don’t go stickin’ your nose places it don’t belong. Places that’ll give me a heart attack.”

  Goose had taken my last adventure pretty hard. He might not say a lot, but he was as protective of us as Knuckles, and he’d made that very clear after he’d apologized endlessly for ever asking me to find prove Knuckles’s ex-girlfriend was a fraud.

  I stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his weathered cheek. Goose had become a vital part of the shop. His portrait tattoos were just a hint of his insane talent, but he was also a good friend not just to Knuckles, but to all of us.

  “I promise to not give you a heart attack. Now you make sure the police don’t need anything else from you, you old worrywart, and take it easy on the lady lawyer. I’m pretty sure she’s not prepared for the likes of someone as dashing as you. And lastly, please be safe going home. It’s pouring out there.”

  He ran a gnarled finger down my nose and smiled. “And you keep yourself outta trouble, pretty girl. See ya Monday. Goose out.” He made the peace sign as he strolled off to talk to Tansy, who’d apparently taken control of the situation despite the fact that she was off duty.

  I hooked my arm through Knuckles’s and asked, “And did you make a date with a pretty lawyer, too? Or were you just Goose’s wingman tonight?”

  Knuckles looked down at his feet. Dating was still a tough subject for him after his last encounter with the above-mentioned ex-girlfriend who’d turned out to be a murderer. But I held out hope that he’d eventually put himself out there. He was too much awesome to keep hidden from the world.

  “I’m still the best wingman ever, and that’s how it’s gonna stay for now. But forget me; why aren’t you dating yet, Miss Trixie? Nice-lookin’ kid like you should be out enjoying herself. I can think of two guys off the top of my head who’d love to sweep you off your feet. You’re just not paying attention.”

  “Oh, bananas. I’m too busy with the shop to date at the moment. Right now, I want to know what happened to Dr. Mickey.” I paused for a moment as I watched Nadia walk across the room toward another woman who was also crying and give her a hug. “Do you know who that is?”

  Knuckles squinted and clucked his tongue. “I think that’s Amber. She’s the hygienist at Dr. Mickey’s.

  Amber was dressed as Lady Gaga, meat dress and all. It was hard to tell what she truly looked like because of her costume and wig, but I decided to go and see if I could offer some comfort.

  “I’ll catch you back at the house. Brunch tomorrow, right?”

  Knuckles winked at me. “Belgian waffles, warm banana sauce, and fresh whipped cream. Make sure you tell Higgs to bring Cal this time. Boy could use a meal on those bones of his.”

  He was indeed runner-lean, our Cal. “I’ll make the bacon.”

  He shook his graying head in emphatic disagreement. “No. No, you won’t, young lady. Remember two weeks ago when you made the bacon?”

  I held up my hands with a roll of my eyes. “You said you liked it extra crispy. I made it extra crispy, didn’t I? And Higgs seemed to like it,” I defended with a smirk.

  “Higgs likes anything you do. Boy can’t see the forest for the trees where you’re concerned.”

  I gave him a playful punch in the arm and ignored his comment before I waved goodbye and went off to see how or if I could help Amber.

  Amber stood close to Nadia, her platinum-blonde wig askew on her head as she nodded at something her co-worker said, dabbing at her tears with a tissue. If nothing else, Dr. Mickey was well-loved by his office staff, and that was nice to see in the age of horrible bosses caught on video in the process of being horrible.

  “Oh, Trixie.” Nadia grabbed my hand and led me the rest of the way to Amber, her brown eyes still red from crying. “This is Amber Peterson. She’s Dr. Fabrizio and Dr. Welch’s hygienist She saw him just after I did, and he told her something I think you should know.”

  Okay, so here’s my dilemma. Did I want to know what Dr. Mickey told Amber? Probably more than I wanted to take my next breath, because the buzz around the room suggested his death was no accident, if all the wringing of hands, somber moods, and side eye were any indication.

  Should I know what Dr. Mickey said to Amber? Probably not—or at least not before the police talked to her and had secured all pertinent information.

  “Trixie?” Nadia prodded, her brow furrowing. “Dr. Welch was very upset when he talked to Amber. She talked to him just after I went to grab something to eat.”

  I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I became uncomfortable. I had to do the right thing here. I had to tell Amber to share the information with the police first. I was going to do the right thing if it killed me.


  Do the right thing, Lavender.

  As I assessed Amber up close, I reckoned she was in her early thirties just like Nadia. Tall and slender, she had long, graceful arms, spray-tanned to perfection, and even though her outfit was a little whacky, she was lovely.

  I held out my hand to greet her. “Hi, Amber. I’m Trixie Lavender. I own Inkerbelle’s Tattoo Shop. I’m sorry we’re meeting under such sad circumstances, but first, did you tell the police what Dr. Mickey told you?”

  There. I did the right thing. I hated it, but I did it.

  “I talked to Officer Meadows,” she sniffed, adjusting her wig and thumbing a finger under her eye to wipe away the smudges of her eyeliner. “I told him everything I know about what Dr. Welch said.”

  I didn’t want to be obvious, so I strangled my sigh of relief. “Are you comfortable sharing that information with me? Did they tell you not to share what you know?”

  She yanked her blonde wig off, tucking it under her arm, her own straw-colored hair up in a bun. Her eyes, filled with concern, met mine. “They didn’t say anything about that. I almost felt like they didn’t think it was very important—or that they didn’t take me very seriously. I need someone to take me seriously.”

  Well, that was odd. Maybe Amber was prone to dramatics? The last time I’d stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong, I’d been privy to plenty of drama. I hoped that wasn’t the case with Amber.

  “Okay. I’m at least willing to listen as long as you’re comfortable telling me.” Though, I couldn’t promise I’d take her any more seriously than the police had.

  “I know this is going to sound crazy. We didn’t even know about it until Dr. Welch and Dr. Fabrizio started doing charity work with the shelter, and they told us some of the things the guys talked about amongst themselves,” Amber said, her dark-chocolate eyes hesitant and round.

  My ears perked up a bit. “I promise not to call you crazy, Amber.”

  Nadia gave her friend a nudge. “Go on, Amber. Just spit it out. If the police won’t take you seriously, maybe Trixie can at least make some sense of what he said.”

  Now she wrung her hands, her body language tense and reluctant. “Dr. Welch said that the legend was true.”

  I stared at her for a moment, not meaning to be so rude. Clearing my throat, I asked, “The legend?”

  She swallowed hard, her tanned skin going pale under the harsh lights. “About the Organ Grinder. He said what the guys at the shelter said was true. There really is an Organ Grinder.”

  Chapter 5

  As I looked at her, my eyes wide and blinking my disbelief, there was a loud ruckus by the door when someone shoved their way inside and yelled with a raw cry, “Mick? Where’s Mickey?”

  Nadia grabbed Amber’s hand and pulled her close. “It’s Dr. Fabrizio,” she whispered. “He went outside to get some air earlier… He’s going to be crushed. They’ve been friends since shortly after their college days.”

  My heart tightened in my chest. Poor Dr. Fabrizio. He was such a great guy, equally as great as Dr. Mickey and equally as generous with his time, from what I’d heard. He spent a lot of his time at a partnering shelter over on Brisbane. To lose his partner in his dental practice, not to mention a longtime friend, had to be devastating.

  As the police crowded Dr. Fabrizio to prevent him from contaminating the area surrounding Dr. Mickey, he pushed against them, his ruggedly handsome face a mask of agony, his tweed jacket and pressed trousers askew.

  “Is it true? Is what everyone’s saying outside really true? Is Mick really dead?” he hollered into the rec room, his anguish rife as he confronted the officers who kept him at bay.

  “Dr. Fabrizio!” Nadia yelled, rushing toward him, her orthopedic shoes clomping across the tiled floor.

  “Please!” Amber begged the police, following directly behind Nadia. “Let him go! We’ll stay with him. I promise!”

  As I watched the scene unfold, as I watched Dr. Fabrizio see for himself the dead man was indeed his friend and partner, my heart turned over in my chest when he crumpled to a nearby chair and outwardly sobbed.

  “What happened?” he moaned into his finely boned hands as the two women sought to comfort him. “Heart attack?” He looked at the people in the room, his eyes wild. “Who knows what happened here? I want to speak to whomever’s in charge!”

  I’ve mentioned I’ve seen all stages and variations of grief, right? This emotion is the one I like even less than I do when I see someone in agonizing pain over a sudden loss. Anger, followed by throwing your weight around.

  It never endears you to the people around you. It only frustrates them and makes them less likely to want to be anywhere near you. They’re afraid to stop you from sharing your grief, because it’s your right to hurt however you choose to hurt, but when you’re destructive, they’re also afraid of your outbursts, and that’s when someone has to step in before the damage is permanent.

  So I decided to stick my nose in where it didn’t really belong once again. I padded across the floor, the soles of my red flats reluctant as they scuffed along the tile.

  “Dr. Fabrizio?” I said, reaching out a hand to place on his arm, hoping to diffuse an oncoming rant.

  “What?” he snarled at me, his green eyes brimming with tears, the whites of them threaded with red.

  I stood my ground, keeping my hand on his arm to let him know there was someone here who understood. “I’m Trixie Lavender. I own the tattoo shop, Inkerbelle’s. You know, just down the road a couple of doors? I helped Dr. Mickey out from time to time here at the shelter.”

  His eyes implored mine, but his face was still a mask of anger. “Do you know what happened here?”

  I pulled a chair up to the small table, blocking his view of Dr. Mickey’s body so he’d focus on me. “I don’t know, and I’m sorry I don’t have anything to report, but I’m happy to offer my help while we wait to see what’s going on. Can I bring you a water or something?”

  Suddenly, it was as though he realized he’d become surly, and he looked at me, an apology in his bright green eyes as the haze of anguish cleared a little.

  “Oh, jeez. I…I’m so sorry, Miss Lavender. I just… When I heard everyone talking about it outside, I…I couldn’t believe my ears,” he said gruffly, his husky, cultured voice thick with emotion. Then he gave the back of my hand a thump with his. “Mick always had so many great things to say about you.”

  “And you as well, Dr. Fabrizio.” I smiled sadly, a tremor of goose bumps racing up my arms as the realization Dr. Mickey was gone found a way to poke me once more. I paused for a moment as I took in his distinguished face, noting he didn’t have a costume on. “I hate to tell you this, but I think the police will want to talk to you. Are you up for some questions?”

  His wide shoulders slumped as he buried his face back in his hands. In an odd contrast, while his hands were small-ish, the rest of him was quite large. “I don’t know what I can tell them, but I’m happy to answer any questions they have. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

  Amber put a hand on Dr. Fabrizio’s shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe you could talk to Trixie, too, Dr. Fab. She’s the one who solved the murder of that naked bike rider. Remember the story?”

  His eyes widened in his lightly wrinkled face. “That was you?”

  I feel like I’m always defending the degree of my involvement with Agnar’s murder. I’m no hero. I’m just a nosy, protective friend.

  So I shook my head. “I didn’t really solve it in the technical way. Rather, I stumbled onto the answer.”

  Nadia gave me a small nudge and clucked her tongue. “She’s being modest. She was held at gunpoint, Dr. Fab. Amber was just about to tell her what Dr. Welch said—”

  “Dr. Alonzo Fabrizio?” Tansy said as she approached us with Marvin not far behind.

  He cleared his throat and rose, holding out his hand to Tansy in greeting. “That’s me, yes. How can I help?”

  As Tansy introduced herself, sh
ook his hand, and guided him away from us, I looked to Amber, who took the doctor’s seat.

  Pinching my temples, I gazed at her and smiled. “You were telling me something before we were interrupted, Amber. It sounded like it was important. Something about the Organ Grinder?”

  I still wasn’t sure what to say about her admission. I hadn’t had time to absorb it before Dr. Fabrizio had burst into the rec room. Now, I was left wondering what it all meant.

  Amber leaned forward, her chin in hand. “Now that I think about it, maybe it was crazy.”

  Nadia gave her a gentle shove to her shoulder. “Tell Trixie anyway, Amber. Whether it’s important or not, everything counts. You never know what could make a difference or mean something we’re not even aware of.”

  “Dr. Welch said, what the guys said about the Organ Grinder might be true. That there really is someone out there stealing organs, is what he meant, I guess. Though, he didn’t look upset about the idea that there might be a real Organ Grinder. So maybe he wasn’t being serious? I mean, he didn’t look panicked. Maybe that’s a better word to describe how he told me. He looked like he was in…” She shrugged her shoulders, one of the fake pork chops on her Lady Gaga meat dress hanging by a thread. “He looked like he was in awe—or maybe I’m misreading and it was shock? I don’t know. We didn’t have time to discuss it because then he got a phone call, and he said it was urgent. He left, and I didn’t see him again until Nadia found him…”

  Her eyes welled up once more, and I found myself digging in my purse for more tissues. “I can’t remember what you told me, but do you know if it was before or after Nadia went to get a plate of food?”

  Amber scratched her head, her lean arms trembling as she leaned on them. “It must have been after.”

  “It had to have been after,” Nadia confirmed, her soft voice shaky. “He wasn’t at all upset when I went to get us a plate. He was in a great mood. He loved Halloween. He used to joke that November first was the beginning of cavity season and that meant Christmas bonuses all ’round. Of course, he was just teasing, but…”