Nun After the Other

by Alice Loweecey

  Kathryn snickered.

  “Go ahead and laugh. The little rat didn’t try to dislocate your shoulder.” Olive glared at Steve, who covered his eyes with his paws.

  “Dorothy can fix you,” Kathryn said. “The Scoop is on the second floor,” she added.

  “They are? Both of them?” Olive produced a burst of speed and disappeared up the stairs.

  “Squirrel!” Giulia murmured again.

  Kathryn set down her mug and laughed into her sleeve. Her face when she raised it became ten years younger. “I agree. We’ll take the offer.”

  “I’d like to have Eagle invade your house tonight to make it official. She’s eager and we all want to get this over with, correct?”

  “Correct. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

  Giulia opened her phone. “Ms. Beech, it’s Giulia Driscoll. Are you still willing to confirm sale tonight?…Good. We’ll see you in a few minutes.” She hung up and grinned at Kathryn. “She just happens to be running an errand within a mile of here.”

  “Good. I think I’ll hover around Ken Kanning while I wait.” Kathryn’s face sloughed off another five years when she said it.

  When Kathryn was safely upstairs, Giulia called Sidney from the cellar. “It’s me, and yes, clock this as overtime. What did you unearth about Barbara Beech?”

  “Olivier,” Sidney said to her husband on the other end, “I’m on a quick work call.” A pause. “Olivier and Jessamine are watching Sesame Street. He says he’ll use the time to teach her how to psychoanalyze Cookie Monster.”

  “That child will be scarred for life.”

  “Or she’ll earn her Ph.D. in psychology before she turns twenty-one. Let me put you on speaker while I log in.” The sound acquired another dimension with Sidney’s keyboard clicks. “Got it. Did you know she sky dives?”

  “Yes, and that she’s the Pomeranian version of a Crazy Cat Lady.”

  “Ooh, I missed that.”

  Giulia put Sidney on speaker at low volume and opened the dogster site. “Here’s a sample discussion post from the new CEO of Eagle Developers, and it is not couched in standard business language: ‘Mr. Fluffy Pants survived a scare today. He ate a spider!!!’ Three exclamation points after spider.”

  “No judging here. I’m not a fan of multi-legged creatures.”

  “Now I know what to dress as for Halloween. To continue, ‘I had to MacGyver it out of his mouth. Good thing I had a spare poop bag in my pocket. Neither of us was bitten, but when I use this in a story it will add drama. Stay tuned.’”

  “Mr. Fluffy Pants? Really?”

  Giulia wasn’t listening. “A story.” She scrolled down. “Several more comments amounting to requests to write faster.”

  “She needs a punctuation refresher.”

  “No, wait. I’m going to join this site right now. Keep talking, please.” She blew through the registration process, using the dummy email she reserved for undercover work.

  “Beech went to Catholic school up to eighth grade.”

  “Franciscan? Please say yes.”

  “Yes. Saint Anthony of Padua elementary. The school was one of a cluster on the south side before the area demographics changed and they were closed one after the other starting fifteen years ago. But that’s not the good part.”

  “It might be, but keep going.”

  “Tease. Ms. Beech has always used her maiden name in business, for which we should thank her. She made the news in a minor way when she was in eighth grade. Her homeroom nun teacher got suspicious of the excuse notes her parents kept sending instead of showing up at parent-teacher conferences.”

  “Please don’t tell me she murdered her parents and kept their bodies in lifelike poses around the house.”

  “Ew. Olivier watched Psycho the other night too. No, thank God. Her homeroom nun and her parish priest showed up at her house unannounced one Saturday morning. It was a huge old house falling apart at the seams. Here’s the icky part. Her father had walked out on them when Beech was in sixth grade and her mother was—to be polite—working as an escort. Out of the house.”

  “Ew.”

  “I know, right? Beech tried to keep them out and her mother came into the kitchen wearing not much and walloped her. Then Mommy’s man of the night came in, cursing everyone for waking him up and walloped Mommy and Beech. At this point the parish priest chose not to allow the women to turn the other cheek and assisted the thug into unconsciousness with a left hook.”

  “MacGyver again,” Giulia muttered, reading threads.

  “Giulia, speak up.”

  “Sorry, I’m trying to find a link. By the way, excellent sleuthing on Beech’s childhood. Tomorrow or Thursday please show me the rabbit trail you followed.”

  “Will do. It was like one of those Family Circus cartoons where the little kid takes a dotted line path all over the neighborhood. To continue, the nun called the cops and Child Protective Services. The cops hauled Mommy and her paying customer away and CPS started Beech’s five-year foster home odyssey.”

  Silence.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Picture me waiting patiently for you to say, ‘Got it.’”

  “Got it,” Giulia echoed. “Wait, what?”

  Sidney was laughing. “Go ahead. Tell me the connection.”

  “Two connections. One, she writes overwrought stories about Pomeranians with the skills and intelligence of Gromit. One of them rescues MacGyver.”

  “Please bookmark this and read it to us tomorrow.”

  “I will, but after we’ve all finished our coffee. That’s not the important part. In a thread about therapy dogs, she refuses to join another Pom owner on a trip to a retired nuns’ nursing home. She gets quite emphatic…oh, look. She says she’ll never name one of her dogs Agatha. It’s apparently a long-running joke, because two people in the thread made snarky comments about penguins.”

  Sidney said, “I believe the word is ‘bingo.’”

  “It is indeed. I will now spring a trap on Eagle Developers’ new CEO. You are a treasure. Go rescue Jessamine before Olivier starts in on Oscar the Grouch.”

  “I’m already there.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. The time of my arrival in the office will be a surprise to us all.”

  Sixty-Nine

  Only Barbara Beech’s silver Lexus sedan disturbed the quiet of the empty street. The emergency vehicles were long gone and the rubberneckers had dispersed in search of new thrills. Giulia rose from the front stoop and met Beech on the sidewalk. They shook hands.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “The workday doesn’t stop at five p.m.” Beech’s business suit illustrated her words.

  “Indeed.” Giulia preceded her inside. Both of them waved away a snootful of cigarette smoke. Beech’s manicured eyebrows rose, but she didn’t comment.

  Steve came to the rescue. Giulia stood back while the Chihuahua provided the entertainment. Unlike Ken Kanning, Beech resisted Steve’s piteous charm. Perhaps her affections were reserved for Pomeranians.

  Giulia looked around for the ghost, but the smoke appeared to be her only manifestation for the moment.

  Kathryn came down the hall to meet them. “Steve, go to your blanket.”

  The little dog obeyed, and Beech reacted to his sudden access of health.

  “He puts on a wounded act for visitors? Smart dog.”

  “He thinks he is.” Kathryn and Beech shook hands. “I’m Sister Kathryn, Superior of this convent. Please excuse our kitchen, but it has the only practicable table.”

  Beech sat on one side, Giulia and Kathryn on the other. Beech opened her briefcase and summarized the three-page document as she passed it over. Giulia and Kathryn read it together.

  “This is quite clear,” Kathryn said.

  “Eagle
Developers was one of the first adopters of plain language contracts.” She winked—a stiff attempt at camaraderie. “The practice also saves us excess legal fees.”

  “We understand frugality.” Kathryn made a face. “I forgot to bring in a pen.”

  Beech whipped one out of the briefcase. “Please use mine.”

  The Superior initialed the first two pages and signed and dated the third. As she repeated the initials and signature on the second copy, Beech did the same for the first. In another minute the transaction was complete.

  More handshakes.

  “Sister, the money will deposit into the convent’s account within a week. Our project for these two blocks is in final planning stage, but we all know how quickly local government moves.”

  Polite chuckles.

  “Contractors are responding to our call for bids, and after we choose, we’ll need to negotiate purchase of materials. Permits have been applied for. We were surprised not to see ambulatory skeletons staffing the permit office. All of which is to say you have a good month or two to find new living quarters.”

  Olive poked her head into the kitchen. “I beg your pardon, Sister Kathryn. Sister Eugenie is awake and asking for you.”

  Kathryn stood. “Please excuse me. One of our Sisters is ill.”

  When they were alone, Giulia sprang part one of her trap. “Ms. Beech, I understand you went to a Catholic school staffed by this Community of Sisters.”

  The slightest of shivers rustled Beech’s linen suit. “Those were not happy years. Oh, I don’t blame the nuns, but I certainly haven’t attended any school reunions.” She began repacking her briefcase. “To tell you the truth, I wondered if I’d recognize anyone here. It’s hard to be sure who is who since they’ve been allowed to resume their normal names.”

  What a lovely opening for Haunted Convent Trap Part Two. Giulia brought up the photo of Agatha she’d taken earlier. “By any chance do you recognize her?”

  Beech glanced, then stared. “Every rule has an exception. She’s older in this picture, but she was Sister Agatha back in my day. She did a lot for the class outcasts.” She took refuge in an awkward laugh. “I wasn’t always a well-dressed, confident business professional.”

  Giulia smiled. “None of us were. Sister Agatha lives here and is dangerously ill. Would you mind paying her a short visit?”

  If ever a human resembled a trapped animal, Beech was that human. She gathered herself together in a moment and attempted a light laugh. It failed.

  “I didn’t know closing tonight’s deal would end with me facing an old phobia.” She snapped shut the locks on her briefcase. “The nuns used to quote the Bible to us impressionable pre-teens. It’s been a long time, but I believe the appropriate quote in this instance is something about when we visit the sick and feed the hungry and such, we’re tallying up good deed points in heaven.” She pushed back her chair. “I can spare time for a brief visit.”

  Giulia preceded her up the stairs, texting Frank as she climbed: Meet me at nuns’ house?

  An immediate reply: Not even going to ask what I discovered?

  Giulia: In the middle of something.

  Frank: Are you about to show me up?

  Giulia: Maaaaybe.

  Frank: 30 minutes.

  Giulia kept climbing, leading Beech closer to the trap. If “Clarence” in Agatha’s rant was Pit Bull and Agatha had also taught Beech in middle school, then the odds the “Barbara” from the same rant was the new CEO of Eagle Developers were looking pretty good.

  Agatha’s browbeating had startled Pit Bull into more honesty than Giulia had ever seen in either half of The Scoop. If Agatha were to tyrannize nun-hating Beech, she might just get Beech to cough up damning information on why Victor Eagle ditched his henchmen and tried to torch the convent himself.

  Seventy

  Another cloud of invisible cigarette smoke assaulted their nostrils as they reached the landing.

  Beech said in Giulia’s ear, “Nuns sure have changed since I was in school. Back in the day we’d get detention for a week if we got caught smoking. The nuns didn’t give study hall detention either. We had to scrub the classroom floors and vacuum the hall carpets.”

  Giulia tallied the times the nuns had smelled Florence’s cigarettes plus the times she only had smelled them, plus tonight’s two instances. The nuns had never seen or heard Florence. Only Steve had. Without letting herself get distracted by the school of thought which held that animals were inherently more sensitive than humans to the Other Side, Giulia came to a logical conclusion: Florence chose when and to whom she manifested her tricks.

  “Excuse us, please.” Kathryn said from behind them.

  They stepped aside. Kathryn and Olive toiled sideways up the stairs, Eugenie slung between them, complaining all the way.

  “My head is killing me. Olive, quit bouncing me. I’m going to throw up again if you don’t hurry. Oh, my head. Where’s Dorothy? I need a dozen aspirin.”

  Dorothy ran toward them with the wheelchair. She parked it behind Eugenie and the other two lowered the passive nun into it.

  “That sucked.” Eugenie’s shirt rucked into her armpits as she landed. She squirmed and tugged the cloth into a smoother position.

  “You’re welcome.” Olive leaned panting against the wall. “Lose a few pounds before you try going walkies again, will you?”

  “Ever hear of offering it up?”

  “I didn’t know I’d need to practice Olympic weightlifting for the offering.”

  “Sisters, we have guests.” Kathryn’s voice caused ice crystals to form on the walls.

  Barbara Beech nodded at the group of nuns. Giulia escorted her around the wheelchair. Ken Kanning came out of Helena’s room. Pit Bull followed, poking buttons on his view screen. The camera bumped into Beech’s arm.

  Pit Bull backpedaled. “Sorry, Sister.” He looked up.

  Beech stopped. “Angel?”

  “Barbie?”

  “Angel?” Giulia and Kanning said.

  “Clarence was the name of Jimmy Stewart’s guardian angel in It’s a Wonderful Life,” Beech said without taking her gaze from Pit Bull.

  “Bull, you must have been adorable in grade school.” Kanning’s laughter underlay his remark.

  “The nuns showed us the movie every Christmas before break.” Pit Bull’s gaze also remained locked with Beech’s.

  “Why are you here?” Beech said.

  “Sister Agatha asked for me. Why are you here?”

  “Ms. Driscoll asked me to visit Sister Agatha.”

  They both turned on Giulia. “Is this some kind of trick?”

  Agatha came to Giulia’s rescue with an epic wail. Every head snapped toward Agatha’s still-open door. Dorothy dashed from Helena’s room into Agatha’s. Giulia followed, pulling Beech in the room with her.

  The cool, professional head of Eagle Developers with years of successful business deals under her belt did not hide her revulsion fast enough. Her hands slid over her mouth. She backed away from the bed until she came up against the wall. White ringed her ice-blue eyes.

  Agatha wailed and moaned and howled, but looked no different tonight than she had for the past several days. Dorothy stroked her head and neck. The howling continued. Dorothy said above it, “I’m sorry. She’s having a bad evening after her earlier episode. I don’t think she’ll come out of it for several hours. We had too much excitement today.”

  Beech scurried into the hall, looked around in panic, and bolted for the bathroom. She removed her hands from her mouth in time to vomit into the toilet. Ken Kanning snapped his fingers and Pit Bull filmed Beech’s toilet worship. Giulia’s stomach flip-flopped, but she found a washcloth in the linen closet and soaked it in cool water in the bathroom sink. The breeze from the open window dissipated the smell somewhat.

  After several dry heaves, Beech
sat on her heels. Giulia wiped her forehead, mouth, and chin, then rinsed the cloth, and Beech took it for a second wipe down. Giulia filled a tiny paper bathroom cup with water and handed it to her. She swirled and spat, then flushed the toilet.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you all right now?” Giulia realized Pit Bull was probably still filming. Asking him to stop wouldn’t cut any weight with Kanning, so she settled for keeping her back to the camera. She leaned over and whispered in Beech’s ear, “Pit Bull is filming this.”

  “Who?”

  “Clarence. He’s half of The Scoop.”

  Beech stiffened, but kept her mouth shut. She spent a few minutes at the sink, frowned at her wrecked makeup, and turned to the door. With a large smile she said to the camera, “Clarence, did you get the tattoos to cover up the scars from the beatings your foster parents gave you?”

  Filming stopped.

  Eugenie maneuvered her wheelchair between Beech and Pit Bull. “You greedy, heartless excuse for a human being! How dare you show your face in our house?”

  Seventy-One

  Beech looked down in surprise. Eugenie kept rolling her wheelchair forward until she trapped Eagle Developers’ CEO against the peeling wallpaper.

  Eugenie in full-on rant mode started to spit on hard consonants. “This is our home. We teach the underprivileged. We help the homeless. The few of us too old or ill to work have earned these lousy rooms and substandard health care with decades of hard work. You’re a parasite and a thief and a piece of human offal.”

  She stopped to catch her breath. Beech’s mouth was hanging open. Pit Bull’s camera was capturing it all. Out of Eugenie and Beech’s line of sight, Kanning was all but rubbing his hands together in ratings-induced glee.

  Kathryn broke the speechless tableau. “Sister Eugenie. Cease this harangue at once.”

  Eugenie glanced over her shoulder at Kathryn bearing down on her. “I won’t. Someone in this house has to stand up for what’s right. Since you don’t have the spine, I’ll take over the job.”

  Kathryn took one of the wheelchair’s push handles and Dorothy grabbed the other. Together they dragged Eugenie away from Beech. Eugenie fought them by gripping the hand rims and pulling against their backwards motion. “Stop moving me! You have no right to censor me!”