Nun After the Other

by Alice Loweecey

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it before. Look, meet me for breakfast, okay?”

  “You and your camera and your boss?”

  “No. Me and you. Nobody else. The Pine Duff Diner on—”

  “On the corner of Pine and Oak. I know it.” She weighed the benefits of insight into The Scoop with her ability to fence while sleep deprived. “It’s three fifteen now. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

  Ken Kanning’s charm hadn’t flagged. Shepherded by Dorothy, he walked toward Giulia and Pit Bull, sympathy creating one transient wrinkle on his forehead.

  “Bull, the Sister has graciously agreed to a brief interview.”

  The camera was up and running as soon as Kanning said the magic word. Eugenie wheeled herself into the shot. Kanning began with a heartwarming introduction and in the same sweet voice asked Dorothy, “Do you think this event tonight is related to the dreadful death of your fellow Sister?”

  “Yes.” Eugenie beckoned Pit Bull’s lens down to her. “The connection is obvious to anyone with reasoning powers.”

  Dorothy temporized. “I think it would be wise to avoid speculation until the police have investigated further.”

  Giulia had reached her Daily Kanning Limit an hour ago. She headed downstairs where Frank and Nash were finishing with the Superior. Surprise filled Kathryn’s face when she saw Giulia.

  “Are those men still upstairs?” Her practiced authority asserted itself. “Help me get rid of them, please.”

  Giulia’s fatigue abated. “With pleasure.”

  Years of getting booted into the street apparently gave Kanning a sixth sense of when he’d worn out his welcome. He wrapped up his double interview as soon as the combined forces of Giulia and the Superior reached the second floor.

  The Scoop left as they’d entered, by the back door. Only then did Giulia remember Steve the Chihuahua.

  “Your deceptive dog missed his chance to perform for the camera.”

  Olive said from the cellar doorway, “He’s cowering behind the fridge. See his tail? Tonight was too many strangers and too much noise for his sensitive soul.”

  Bart coaxed the dog out with a Milk-Bone. “I wish I could hide when I want to.”

  Giulia sat next to her on the kitchen floor. “How are you holding up?”

  A breathy laugh. “I sprayed a dead guy with CO2. The only thing I want in the world right now is an obscene amount of Jack Daniels to keep me from dreaming. And being obedient to my vow of poverty, it’s the one thing I can’t have.”

  Thirty-Five

  Giulia slapped her phone until the alarm stopped. Frank didn’t even stir beside her. Her head fell back on her soft, welcoming pillow and she closed her eyes.

  Five minutes later the snooze alarm startled her into sitting straight up. This time she shut down both alarm and snooze functions and did not lay down again.

  When they’d finally returned home from the convent crime scene at four a.m. they’d been so exhausted they fell on the bed fully clothed. Anne’s couch-shaking snores from the couch downstairs didn’t keep them awake more than a minute.

  Now Giulia stumbled to the bathroom unrested, wrinkled, and somehow feeling grimy. She left her clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor and brushed her teeth, took a four-minute shower, then brushed her teeth again.

  No one stirred in the spare room when she padded from the bathroom back to her bedroom. Frank’s only movement had been to sprawl across both sides of the bed. With minimal noise she pulled on a shirt and the loosest pair of pants she owned.

  The Pine Duff Diner was only half full at seven a.m. on a Sunday. Pit Bull waved her over to a booth by a window facing the side parking lot. Giulia approved the choice. Passersby on the street-facing sidewalk wouldn’t notice them.

  “You’re not late. I came early. Gonna need a lot of extra coffee to function today.” He drained the mug in front of him and caught the waitress’s eye.

  “Good morning.” Giulia slid into the padded vinyl seat across from him and picked up a menu.

  “Got any juicy insider details you can share? Like did that nun with the braids off Eagle herself?”

  She set down the menu. “Mr. Bull, if you requested this meeting to pry information from me, I’ll leave now.”

  His hand reached out, but stopped before touching her. “Don’t go. Sorry. Force of habit in the news business.” He held up his menu. “Their home fries are a national treasure.”

  She accepted the change-of-subject peace offering. “So I’ve heard.”

  The waitress refilled Pit Bull’s coffee. “A fine Sunday morning at the Pine Duff to you, Miss. This charmer would marry me if I slipped him our home fries recipe, but my mama always told me to keep the men guessing. So what can I get for you besides an order of home fries?”

  Giulia wondered if Sidney knew she had a long-lost twin. The waitress was a little shorter and a little darker, but the level of perkiness was all Sidney. Giulia’s morning improved.

  “May I add coffee and one egg over easy?”

  “Absolutely.” She took both menus. “Your usual’s already frying up, Tat-Man.”

  “You know the way to my heart, baby.”

  An old man turned on his stool at the counter. “You never flirt like that with me, Glenny.”

  “Jonesy, you’re like a cat. You only sweet-talk me when you want freebies.”

  “You’re too smart for me.” He held out his mug. “Let’s start with coffee.”

  “’Long as you pay for it.”

  When the waitress attended to her other customers, Giulia went on the attack. “How long before your boss shows up here for breakfast? Not that his arrival would have been planned, of course.”

  The cameraman shook his head. “We’re not ambushing you. He doesn’t know about this meeting.”

  Giulia reserved judgment. “Mr. Bull, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  His nose wrinkled. “Call me Bull, would you?”

  She drew back a fraction. “Perhaps I should say Mr. Finch?”

  He grimaced. “I had my name legally changed when I graduated high school.” His shoulder muscles bunched. “I was bullied something fierce in school. Sister Agatha taught me to defend myself.”

  Glenny approached, balancing three plates on her arms. “Here you go.” Her left hand gripped the plastic handle of a round-bellied coffee pot. “Home fries and one over easy. If you ask for ketchup we’ll have to show you the door.” A wink softened the ultimatum. “Sunday Morning Special for you, Tat-Man.” Before Pit Bull she set one plate with hash browns, sausages, and roasted tomatoes and a second with a stack of pancakes.

  “Marry me.”

  “And leave paradise on earth?” She poured coffee into both mugs. “You need anything else, holler. Like those guys.”

  She jerked her head toward the rest of the diner. From three different tables came “Glenny, I’m dying from hunger.” “Coffee, Glenny, coffee.” “We’re out of pancakes, Glenny.”

  Giulia grinned at her. “As long as they don’t cheap out on the tip.”

  The waitress high-fived Giulia. “An extra good morning to a Sister in the Sorority of Arch Support.”

  “Not for a few years, but you never forget.”

  When she faced her breakfast, Pit Bull had already demolished two sausages and was sawing through pancakes so fluffy they should have been strapped to the plate lest they float away. Since he wasn’t going to talk for a minute, she tasted the celebrated home fries. The stories didn’t exaggerate. Even the coffee was almost good enough to be worth half her daily ration.

  The circle of pancakes became a half moon before the cameraman slowed down. “My dad ditched us when I was born. My mom slammed her junker car into a city plow when I was seven.” A mirthless smile. “Kids, don’t drink and drive.” He raised his coffee and downed half the scalding bev
erage in one gulp. “Tam and I got passed around foster homes for the next eleven years. I’ve been told some foster homes aren’t practice for your time being tortured in Purgatory to expiate your sins. We weren’t so lucky.”

  Giulia sliced her egg with her fork. If Pit Bull was making this up to win her to The Scoop’s side, he was working hard at it. He must know she could check up on his story using his real name.

  Another quarter of the pancakes vanished. “Tam mixed vodka and Ecstasy at her senior prom and the loving couple pocketing money from the state for ‘raising’ me didn’t bother to tell me about the first phone call from the ER. The gutless wonders she got foisted off on found a conscience and called me themselves. I got to the hospital in time to hold her hand while she died.” He raised his voice. “Glenny. Coffee.”

  Like a rabbit from a magician’s hat, the waitress materialized fresh coffee into his mug. “You ready for a refill, sister?”

  It would be too much of a distraction from the purpose of this breakfast to explain why calling Giulia ‘sister’ was funny. “Thank you, no. I’m good.”

  He swallowed a tomato. “I’ve got to remember to eat these first. They’re better hot. So you’re thinking I’m giving you a sob story so you’ll get all motherly on me or something. Yeah, I’m older than you, but you know what I mean.”

  She finished the egg. “The thought occurred to me.”

  “Ken thinks that way. Don’t get mad. You’re nothing like Ken, but you both have analytical minds.” Another tomato. “I’m telling you this because of Sister Agatha. The people who got me when I was eleven finagled extra money to send me to Catholic school. You should’ve seen me then. I was half a foot shorter than most of the class, I weighed about fifty pounds, and I had thick, cheap hipster glasses before hipsters were a thing.”

  Giulia tried and failed to picture this tattooed six foot plus of solid muscle as the “before” half of one of those ads about bulking up to gain confidence. She used her energy on the home fries instead.

  “Do they live up to the hype?” He pointed to her plate with his fork.

  “They do.” She turned in the booth to view the rest of the diner. “I can see why every seat in this place is filled now.” She stabbed another forkful. “You were telling me about your first year in Catholic school. Did your sister pass when you were in Sister Agatha’s homeroom?”

  “No. Sorry. I’m telling things out of order. Tam was a year older than me. We were in different high schools because the families we bunked with lived across town from each other. You’d think the system would check to see if a brother and sister wanted to be together.”

  When Giulia didn’t gush sympathy, he continued. “Sister Agatha’s class was my first and only year in Catholic hell. The school was small enough for the nuns to know most of our names, but big enough to play host to multiple bullies. I got the jocks. Their refined sensibilities expressed their offense at my underdeveloped physique by beating the shit out of me once a week after gym class. They were just smart enough to keep the bruises to places the school uniform would cover.”

  Years of experience with talkative witnesses helped Giulia keep her mouth closed. She wasn’t interested in Pit Bull’s history. She was interested in augmenting her scant two hours’ sleep. The word prompted a yawn, which she stifled.

  He stacked his empty plates. “Back then Sister Agatha was one of the cool nuns. She played basketball. She brought sandwiches from the convent kitchen to supplement lunches for kids like me. She liked Prince and Duran Duran and U2. Kids with Walkmans would share their headphones with her before school.” He swirled the remaining coffee in his mug. “I was one of the low-key problem kids. I kept quiet, but I slacked off on tests and homework. One day she kept me after school and read me the riot act. The day before had been one of the worst weekly after-gym beatings and I’d had enough. I told her exactly what I thought of her school, her God, and her opinions.” A warped smile. “I remember blowing a great exit line by banging my leg against the corner of her desk, right where bully number one had kicked me with his hard leather wingtip shoe. I hit the floor and only shut up because I didn’t want to blubber in front of a nun.”

  Glenny performed her rabbit and hat trick again. “Y’all finished? More coffee? Pie?”

  Little Zlatan perked up. Giulia said with reluctance, “Pie?”

  “Apple or strawberry? Baked last night so all the flavors are at peak blending.”

  “A slice of strawberry, please.” She intended to pay for her own breakfast, so adding pie didn’t trigger any guilt.

  Pit Bull waited. The pie appeared in less than a minute. If Giulia harbored matchmaker tendencies, these two might be a job for the famous Dolly Levi. It was perceptive of Glenny to discern Giulia wasn’t a romantic threat.

  “I won’t say our pie is better than our home fries because the boss would fire me, but it’s a close second.” She scooped whipped cream from a stainless steel bowl. “We serve the real thing here. No soybean and chemical concoctions at the Pine Duff. Enjoy.”

  Giulia scooped the first bite. Zlatan wriggled with happiness. Her attention dived inward. She’d felt Zlatan wriggle. Her hand reached for her phone to text Frank, but stopped. Not at this hour. He must still be asleep. Besides, she was working.

  Pit Bull was saying something. She dragged herself back to the reason for her presence in this vinyl booth.

  “…she kept telling me to take off my pants and I kept telling her she was a pervert. To shut her up I told her what my school days were really like.” He tipped his mug upside down and stuck his tongue under it to catch the last drops of coffee. “She backed off and I dragged myself into my chair, the kind with a desk attached. I rubbed the giant bruise to get the throbbing to slow down. After a few minutes, I realized she still wasn’t talking. When I looked up at her, she was writing something. She shoved it across her desk at me and told me to go home.”

  “I have experience with organized bullying. Let me guess. She didn’t force you to go to the nurse and she didn’t go after the bullies.”

  The wry face reappeared. “I forgot you used to be a teacher. Right on both counts. The note was for my foster assholes telling them she required my services for an after-school job.” His expression became nostalgic. Some of the strain faded. “She taught me self-defense. She taught me how to throw a punch to the gut and chin and nose. And she did it all in secret so I wouldn’t get branded as the nuns’ pet.”

  “And get beat up even worse.” Giulia set down her spoon. “If she meant so much to you, why did you lose contact with her?”

  Thirty-Six

  A new Pit Bull revealed himself: a shamefaced one.

  “I did everything I could to forget my suckfest of a childhood. After sixth grade I got sent to a new foster home. They were too cheap to pay for Catholic school, which was fine with me. They dumped me back in the public school system. I got in trouble all the time for fighting, but the bullies learned pretty quick to find easier meat. I quit going to church. I quit everything except the gym and A-V class. Tam died when I was a junior and after graduation I shaved my head, changed my name, and never looked back.”

  “Were you worried Sister Agatha would track you down and lecture you?”

  “Maybe. But I can help her now.” He brightened. “I can pay her back.”

  Giulia savored the last bite of pie and whipped cream before answering. “What do you expect from me?”

  “Jesus, a little sympathy?” He looked over at the air conditioner a second later. “Damn, did the temperature drop in here?”

  Score one for still being able to frost an errant student without uttering a word.

  He transferred his gaze to her face. Giulia reminded herself neither half of The Scoop lacked insight. Tact, maybe. Definitely.

  “Sorry. Been working with Ken too long.” He smiled. “Please, call me Bull. We’ve been fencing like t
he Scarlet Pimpernel and Chauvelin. I have nasty memories of arguments over meals. Truce, okay?”

  “Again, no.”

  “Not even…Okay. Never mind. We’re both professionals and we have the same goal here. We want to help these nuns.”

  Giulia inclined her head. “Do you really think the mugging and death of Sister Matilda is related to Eagle’s death, or was your boss fishing for a melodramatic teaser promo?”

  The cameraman didn’t pause to think. “Ken shot a bow at a venture, but his instincts are good.”

  “And?”

  “Ken will play this to the hilt. We have contacts in mainstream news. If Ken pokes them, they’ll cough up anonymous source material for him.” He signaled the waitress.

  “What about Eagle’s second in command?”

  “Who?”

  Glenny took their plates. “All set? How was the pie?”

  “Worth every calorie.”

  She gave Giulia a thumbs-up. “A compliment all women understand. I’ll bring the check.”

  Giulia continued their interrupted conversation. “Barbara Beech, Eagle’s partner. I met her at their office. She’s capable, intelligent, skilled, and respected in the business community. My guess is the business will be hers.”

  Pit Bull appeared to be taking mental notes. “No wife? No kids?”

  “Not in the picture.”

  “She’ll be running it. At least until the ex decides she wants a piece of the pie.” He leaned across the table without getting too close. “I’m not Ken’s puppy. Take down my cell number please.”

  She input it to his dictation and pretended not to see the relief on his face.

  “If I find anything, I’ll call you. If I find anything hot, we’ll meet again. Okay?”

  The check arrived. Giulia set her portion of the bill plus tip on it. He didn’t argue.

  “Okay,” Giulia said.

  Thirty-Seven

  When Giulia came home, her sister-in-law was making chocolate chip pancakes. Her older nephew and her niece, still in pajamas, heated syrup and poured orange juice. The lack of noise surprised Giulia.