Praise for the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series
“Giulia is a sympathetic, well-drawn character who has built a full life for herself after leaving the convent, but appealing touches of the former nun remain.”
– Booklist
“Driscoll’s second solo turn as a sleuth (after Nun Too Soon) offers a fun and fast read with a lot of appeal.”
– Library Journal
“Former nun and current private eye Giulia Driscoll tackles ghosts with the same wit and wisdom she uses to tackle crooks. Great fun.”
– Terrie Farley Moran,
Agatha Award-Winning Author of the Read ’Em and Eat Mysteries
“Loweecey’s characters are colorful without being caricatures, and once again we’re lucky that Giulia Driscoll left the convent behind. She solves the crime with a happy mix of online savvy, humor and intelligence.”
– Sheila Connolly,
New York Times Bestselling Author of An Early Wake
“How can you not love an author who quotes from the movies Airplane and Young Frankenstein? Giulia’s recent marriage adds a delightful dash of romance, but the real appeal of this series is her genuine likability and fiery independent streak that could never be hidden behind a veil.”
– Kings River Life Magazine
“Loweecey has once again crafted a delightful, sassy, smart tale that will send the hair on the back of your head skyward and keep your eyes glued to the page. I loved it!”
– Jessie Chandler,
Author of the Award-Winning Shay O’Hanlon Caper Series
“Exciting and suspenseful.”
– Publishers Weekly
“For those who have not yet read these incredible mysteries written by an actual ex-nun, you’re missing out...Brilliant, funny, a great whodunit; this is one writer who readers should definitely make a ‘habit’ of.”
– Suspense Magazine
“With tight procedural plotting, more flavoured coffee than you could shake a pastry at, and an ensemble cast who’ll steal your heart away, Nun Too Soon is a winner. I’m delighted that Giulia–and Alice!–left the convent for a life of crime.”
– Catriona McPherson,
Agatha Award-Winning Author of the Dandy Gilver Mystery Series
“You’ll love Giulia Driscoll! She’s one of a kind—quirky, unpredictable and appealing. With an entertaining cast of characters, a clever premise and Loweecey’s unique perspective—this compelling not-quite-cozy is a winner.”
– Hank Phillippi Ryan,
Mary Higgins Clark Award-Winning Author of Truth Be Told
“Grab your rosary beads and hang on for a fun ride with charming characters, amusing banter, and a heat-packing former nun.”
– Barb Goffman,
Macavity Award-Winning Author
“Loweecy pulls off an incredible balancing act, whipping up the perfect blend of humor, suspense, and poignancy. I lost track of how many times this book made me laugh out loud, even as I rooted for Giulia and double-checked to make sure my doors were locked.”
– Jess Lourey,
Lefty-Nominated Author of the Murder by Month Mysteries
The Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series
by Alice Loweecey
Novels
NUN TOO SOON (#1)
SECOND TO NUN (#2)
NUN BUT THE BRAVE (#3)
THE CLOCK STRIKES NUN (#4)
NUN AFTER THE OTHER (#5)
Short Stories
CHANGING HABITS
(prequel to NUN TOO SOON)
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Copyright
NUN AFTER THE OTHER
A Giulia Driscoll Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition | April 2018
Henery Press
www.henerypress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2018 by Alice Loweecey
Cover art by Stephanie Savage
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-326-6
Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-327-3
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-328-0
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-329-7
Printed in the United States of America
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Rob Early for sharing his electrical expertise. Thanks to my cosplayers for this book: Barb Early, my Good Twin, the Head Honey of the Horror Honeys (where my dark heart truly belongs), and Steve Barber, my favorite Chihuahua rescuer. And as always: Thanks to Awesome Editor Rachel Jackson and my fellow Hens for all their support.
One
Giulia Driscoll, formerly Sister Mary Regina Coelis, ground a smoldering cigarette butt into the sidewalk.
“Why is there always one smoker who treats the park like an ashtray?”
Her husband dropped his empty Coke bottle into the nearest recycle bin. “Please take note of my effort to keep Cottonwood, Pennsylvania clean.”
“As a good member of the police force should.” She made a face. “We agreed no work talk on a date night.”
Frank Driscoll tucked his wife’s hand into his arm. “I won’t mention the precinct again.”
“And I won’t mention the interesting ways a private investigator has to alter her usual methods of working now that I’m pregnant.”
The bells on the First Presbyterian Church steeple began to chime ten p.m. Two pairs of teenagers ran around the park’s central fountain, giggling and shrieking. A white-haired couple passed Frank and Giulia, discussing the relative merits of Dairy Queen Blizzards versus McDonald’s McFlurries. Three of the teenagers picked up the fourth and tossed her into the fountain.
“Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” Giulia patted her growing baby bump. “Zlatan votes for an Oreo Blizzard.”
Frank steered them out of the park. “Zlatan’s wish is my command.”
They entered the sulfurous yellow pool of a streetlight. A Jeep blasting Blake Shelton’s latest hit drove past.
Giulia said, “Everything about this idea of a date night each month on Zlatan’s expected due date is great, except babies don’t necessarily keep to schedules.”
Frank stepped out of the light first. “As an uncle several times over I am painfully aware of this, but we have three and a half more months to convince Zlatan otherwise.”
“He may rebel if we don’t come up with a more mainstream name by his due date.”
“If we could convince Ibrahimov
ić, the great soccer player himself, to sponsor our first-born, it’d be worth it.”
A shriek cut through his last word.
“Left,” Giulia said. She was already running in and out of circles of light.
“One block over.” Frank ran beside her. “Maybe two.”
They cut left at the corner. The next street was too narrow to rate streetlights. High, frenzied barks joined the noise of their sneakers slapping the concrete. The barking got closer.
Giulia stopped Frank and listened over the sound of their breathing. “Ahead.” She wanted to hear another scream. Another one meant a struggle. All she heard was the unseen dog.
They took off. A brown and white Chihuahua trailing a glittery blue leash appeared, yapping at such a rate its tiny mouth never seemed to close. Giulia grabbed for the leash, but the dog ran back and forth at their feet, whipping it out of her grasp.
Giulia took a step toward it. The barking ratcheted higher and the dog scampered back the way it came. As they followed, the chubby little dog ran so fast it appeared to hover. Its belly grazed the sidewalk at every other leap. It turned left into a street of boarded-up houses and stopped at a prostrate figure beneath a sputtering streetlight.
The little dog licked the figure’s outflung hand, yapped in a higher register, and licked some more. Giulia knelt and searched for a pulse. Frank called 911.
“I need more light,” Giulia said after he hung up.
The iPhone flashlight illuminated a rumpled black veil, black dress, and open-mouthed face. The pale blue eyes stared without blinking. Wrinkles covered the translucent skin, damp where the Chihuahua’s darting tongue switched from the hand to the face.
“She’s a nun,” Frank said.
“She’s dead,” Giulia said.
Two
Giulia knelt on the sidewalk and said a silent prayer for the repose of the dead nun’s soul. The dog resumed its barking conniption.
“Wallet’s in the gutter,” Frank said.
“Open?”
“Face down. Do you recognize her?”
Giulia finally hooked two fingers through the leash. “I don’t know every nun within a fifty-mile radius.”
“Worth a shot.” He crouched in the street, nose all but touching the overturned wallet. “Can’t see a thing. What kind of human waste goes after nuns?”
The Chihuahua ran from Giulia’s ankles to Frank’s. “One who needs a fix.”
“Damn all pushers to…which circle of Hell is the worst?”
“Eighth circle, fifth bolgia. Eternity immersed in boiling tar. If they poke their head above the tar, demons claw them to pieces until they sink. Lather, rinse, and repeat forever.” She caught Frank’s look and heard the harsh edge to her voice. She stroked the dog. “How can something this small make so much noise?”
Lights flashed. A patrol car drove around the corner and headed for them.
Frank looked around. “Talk about a poster child for neighborhood revitalization.”
Century-old houses lined both sides of the street. Only every third house possessed a complete set of intact windows. Once-graceful front porches sagged in the middle or were buttressed with two-by-fours. Postage-stamp areas of city “lawns” were bare of grass. Broken bottles and crumpled beer cans competed with weeds and torn sheets of newspaper. Shards of glass in the empty window frames caught the police car’s red and blue lights, throwing gashes of color onto peeling paint and cracked woodwork.
The driver exited first. “Driscoll, aren’t you supposed to be off duty?”
Frank attempted to look virtuous. “Sasha, the road to promotion is paved with overtime.”
Banter ceased when both officers reached the sidewalk.
Sasha hissed a curse. “The scumbags have hit a new low.”
Giulia’s eyes refused to look away from the limp white hair sticking out from the skewed veil. “I checked for a pulse, but we didn’t disturb anything.”
Sasha inclined her head toward the police car and her partner reached inside for the microphone. With one finger stuck in his free ear, he relayed several requests.
“What’s with the mutt?” Sasha reached for its head.
The Chihuahua jerked away from her, snatching the leash out of Giulia’s loose grasp. It licked the dead nun’s face, then looked up at the humans and barked like it was asking a favor. Giulia couldn’t blame pregnancy hormones for the way the little dog’s reactions squeezed her heart.
“We need forensics to take their pictures so I can get into the wallet,” Frank said.
Lights flashed in the distance. An SUV drove past, followed a minute later by a Subaru wagon.
“At least we don’t have to deal with nosy neighbors.” Frank indicated the empty windows.
Sasha rubbed the dog’s ears. “You think they’d come out to see what this one is so excited about? Not likely. My neighbors on either side have designer dogs. Poodles mixed with a canine perpetual motion machine, and they never shut up. The whole street ignores the noise like they’re furry car alarms.”
Ambulance lights appeared at the end of the street followed by two more cars. Sasha rubbed the dog’s belly and Giulia used the distraction to wrap the leash around her wrist. Two EMTs reached the sidewalk first with the coroner and photographer on their heels. Frank’s partner Nash VanHorne came straight over to Frank and Giulia.
“Some date. What happened?”
“Heard a scream. Followed it but only got here in time to see this.” Frank gestured at the nun’s body, now being circled by the photographer under direction of the coroner.
The camera flashed. Everyone else waited. The Chihuahua made a dash for the coroner’s ankles. Giulia yanked it back. It yipped but obeyed. Nash stepped in and placed evidence markers by the wallet and an overturned plastic cup with pink liquid oozing out of it. More pictures.
The photographer finished. The coroner knelt by the body and Frank dived for the wallet.
“Sister Mary Matilda Stapleton. Lives—” he checked the nearest street sign— “on this street.” He turned his head toward the house behind them. “280. We want 386.”
The coroner stood. “Heart. Nothing you didn’t know already. I’ll send you the technical version in the morning.”
Frank didn’t raise his head from the wallet. “No trauma?”
“Nothing from a surface examination. If you’re thinking mugger, she may have died of fright at the sight of a weapon.”
The EMTs lowered the gurney and lifted the body onto it. The Chihuahua leapt straight from the sidewalk onto the dead nun’s stomach, yanking Giulia forward. She went with the momentum and scooped the barking beast into her arms again. It transferred its energy to her face and slobbered all over her cheeks and chin.
“You have a new friend,” Sasha said.
“Thank you, no. A chameleon is more than enough.”
“A what?” The radio in the police car crackled. Her partner picked up the mic, listened, and beckoned her over. “We have to go.”
The ambulance pulled away. The coroner’s car followed.
“I’ll tell the nuns at the convent,” Giulia said.
Nash exhaled. “I owe you one.”
“Still scared of nuns?” Frank said.
“My abused knuckles have lifelong muscle memory.”
Three
Giulia set the Chihuahua on the sidewalk. “Home, boy. Let’s go home.”
The little dog galloped to the limit of the leash. Giulia was ready this time. She took off at a slow jog which kept pace easily with its stumpy legs. Frank’s longer stride matched Giulia’s without the need to jog.
“300…308…314…” Frank read the house numbers as they passed. “These houses were show places once.”
“I grew up in a neighborhood like this.” Giulia pointed to the upcoming house on their left. “The scall
oped brick porch looks like ours. The shabby outsides are deceptive. We could eat off our floors.”
“344…348…When you and your brother weren’t trashing the place.”
“I neither admit nor deny the rumor that I spread wet Cheerios in the downstairs hall right where seven-year-old Salvatore liked to slide into the kitchen.”
Frank chuckled. “Three Our Fathers and three Hail Marys as penance.”
The Chihuahua dragged Giulia up a short, cracked sidewalk and sprang up two cement steps. A traditional statue of the Virgin Mary with open hands in blue dress and white veil was the only decoration in the weathered brown house’s front yard. Four useless square windows in the front door were set too high to allow the person inside to see who was knocking. Two tall, narrow windows to the left of the door could be used as a fortress’ first line of defense. Giulia rang the doorbell.
When footsteps reached Giulia’s ears, the Chihuahua relaunched its vocal frenzy. The door opened on a gray-haired woman in brown slacks and short-sleeved white blouse who was already talking.
“Matilda, this hairy beast’s barks are worse than a car alarm.” She frowned at Giulia. “Who are you? Where’s Sister Matilda?”
“Good evening. Is your Superior in?”
“Where else would she be at this time of night?”
Another woman entered the hall. She looked at the dog, at the nun, at Frank and Giulia.
“Where’s Sister Matilda?”
Four
A large trestle table took up most of the convent’s kitchen. Fourteen people could have fit around it with elbow room to spare. The six people who gathered at it kept to the end near the back door.
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