Veiled Threat

by Alice Loweecey

  Only three other cars were in the narrow parking lot, and the little Escort maneuvered into a salted space without a hitch. The wind hit her when she stepped onto the asphalt. She wrapped her candy cane–striped scarf around the bottom of her face and headed for the front doors: the church’s red-tiled spire was the only roof on either side of the street not decorated with three-foot icicles.

  “Gotta love those roof ice-melters. Can’t have the faithful entering the church door in fear and trembling of imminent death.” She paused at the end of the walkway. “Although that’d make a great sermon illustration.”

  Giulia was sole occupant of the steps this early on a Wednesday. The lingering blackness of the sky might have had something to do with it. Or the wind that picked up the latest snow crusts and flung them like sharpened fingernails at her face. Or the greedy winter that reminded her too much of the unseasonal cold snap back in October, around Saint Francis Day.

  The shivers clawing at her spine as she pushed against the wind weren’t just from the weather. The four days she’d spent in her old Motherhouse back in October had rebooted all her convent nightmares.

  “Stop griping, Falcone. Taking down Father Ray the scumbag drug dealer and Sister Fabian his accomplice was worth these sleepless nights, and you know it.”

  Besides, she’d been slacking off ever since she’d jumped the wall. Back in the convent, six hours of sleep was the norm. Some cloistered Orders still kept up the ancient tradition of praying the Canonical Hours, and that included two a.m. Cut the six to five and a quarter.

  “I was never cut out for the cloister.” She brushed snow off her eyelashes. “Or the convent. That last stint proved it. Time to get over myself.”

  She climbed the steps to the front doors of Saint Thomas, passing the statue that most of the time was of Saint Thomas kneeling before the resurrected Christ. Under its new load of snow, it looked more like a polar bear in front of a sasquatch.

  The wind gave her an unnecessary hand with the double doors, but it failed before the strength gained in her four-days-a-week gym schedule. The slam as they closed echoed even through her earmuffs.

  She stamped her boots on the runner in the vestibule, then unbuttoned her coat, pulled off her hat, and stuffed it into her coat pocket. As soon as she freed her face from the scarf, she breathed a long, slow, deep, relaxing breath. Incense, lemony wood polish, and candles. The day’s knotted muscles and nerves began to unkink.

  The holy water in the font was cold enough to raise goosebumps when she touched it to her forehead. Only the two hexagonal ceiling lamps at the front and the ones above her head illuminated the oak pews. The darkness chilled her until she heard the heat kick in and realized the temperature had to be at least sixty. One older woman knelt in the pew across from the Confessional, but the light from the dogwood, blossom-shaped opening in the central door didn’t reach farther than the floor in front of it.

  When Giulia entered the nave, she heard faint voices from the Confessional. The woman’s rosary clacking on the back of the pew made more noise than her rubber soles did on the carpeted central aisle. As she neared the sanctuary, the always-burning candle in its red glass lamp cast an unsettling glow over the tabernacle. Giulia genuflected at the head of the aisle, facing the consecrated Hosts inside their small mother-of-pearl house. A five-tiered bank of tall votive candles stood off-center to the Blessed Virgin statue in its niche on the left. Giulia moved silently to that side of the nave.

  She couldn’t hear any voices now; good. Privacy for everyone. Her wallet gave up a dollar bill. She folded it into a rectangle narrow enough to fit into the offering slot before lighting a long wick at an existing candle. A puff of smoke mingled with the odor of hot candle wax and the permeating incense. With another deep inhale of the mixture, the last knot in her chest loosened.

  As she lit a new candle in the topmost tier, she breathed a prayer to the Virgin for Katie’s safe return. Then she knelt. The week had been too long and stressful to try and pray a Rosary on her fingers. I’d lose my place before the second decade. She settled for wordless prayer. The Lord knew her intention. Her job was to show up and make herself available to Him.

  A kneeler banged behind and to her right. Footsteps headed to the door and vanished. Giulia lost track of time.

  “Are you here to pre-Confess again?”

  She started, and a large, square hand touched her shoulder.

  “It’s only me.”

  Giulia smiled up at Father Carlos, the priest in charge of Saint Thomas Catholic Church and one of the few people she trusted enough to confide in. “Causing parishioner death by heart attack? Are you trying to get on a reality TV show?”

  The priest laughed. “It’s seven forty-five. Everyone else is gone. I was about to head out for my Wednesday nursing home rounds, but I have some wiggle room. If you need it, there’s more than enough time to hear your pre-Confession for sins you might commit in the line of duty.”

  “It’s that late? It’s a good thing I have the rental car.” She scooped up her purse. “I didn’t come in here with that in mind, but I could use a pre-Confession.”

  Father Carlos’s thin black eyebrows disappeared into his wavy salt-and-pepper hair. “I was joking. Come walk back to the vestry with me.”

  She gave Father Carlos the bones of the story as they walked up the small front aisle and across the sanctuary. “I’ve got two potential suspect couples and an envelope full of employee information that may give me more. I’ll be telling them whatever I think will convince them I’m the best listener in Pennsylvania. Anything to get them to drop their guard.”

  “I freely grant you permission to deceive evildoers to protect the innocent. He raised his right hand and Giulia inclined her head. He continued, “I absolve you from all sins you may commit in this investigation, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  When Giulia raised her head, he was smiling. “My own Confessor thinks this is an interesting interpretation of the sacrament. Now, you: how are the nightmares?”

  Giulia smiled. He tried to maintain formal speech, but his true self usually kicked that aside within a few minutes, revealing the caring, everyone’s-brother he really was.

  “I’m dealing. They’ll get better soon. It took about six months for them to loosen their grip the first time.”

  He gave her an admonitory frown. “Take care of yourself so you are better able to help others. Did I hear you say that you have a car?”

  “Just a rental for this job. But I’m so happy to be free of the city bus that I’m taking the used-car plunge right after Christmas.” She armored herself for the outside again.

  “I wish you many years of self-propelled happiness. Drive carefully to work. I’ll see you for Midnight Mass.”

  The wind clawed at her hair the minute she hit the steps and didn’t loosen its grip till she shut herself into the Escort. While the heater rattled its way up to a livable temperature, she searched for one of the all-Christmas radio stations.

  Oh, I could get used to this.

  TWENTY

  GIULIA PARKED IN THE alley behind Common Grounds. The coffee shop covered the entire first floor of the skinny brick office building; Driscoll Investigations took up the front half of the second floor. Giulia had never seen the people across the hall. A brass nameplate next to the solid door read Walters and Griffin, Ltd. One slow morning she and Sidney had created a two-column list of possible occupations for the mysterious firm.

  The 8:20 bus passed without stopping. Giulia mock-saluted it and opened the coffee shop door.

  “Hey, you,” Mingmei the barista said from behind the glass counter and pastry display. “I haven’t seen you in days.”

  “Saving my pennies to buy that car.” Giulia unbuttoned her coat. “However, it’s nearly Christmas so I will splurge on a candy-cane cappuccino, please.”

  “An excellent choice.” She measured coffee.

  The only other customers were engr
ossed in each other in the farthest corner, the faux-Tiffany lamp above them shedding the bare minimum of light on their kiss-sip-kiss-sip exercise.

  Giulia leaned on the counter, Christmas-party aftermath pushed to the background, Katie’s rescue uppermost in her mind again. “I have an ulterior motive for coming in today. I need hair advice.”

  Mingmei continued the multiple-step brewing process. “You want red and green stripes for Christmas? Please say yes.”

  “With this mop? Please. I’d look like a candy-factory explosion.” Giulia glanced again at the couple in the corner.

  “Come around to this side.” Mingmei lifted the hinged wooden flap on the wall. “You used to work here. Eleanor won’t care.”

  Giulia scooted through. “Did she marry off her nephews yet? I feel sorry for whoever gets the one who said I had a nun aura.”

  “Nah. He’s gone back to nature—heads a wilderness retreat at the far end of Raccoon Lake. Winter and summer.” She shivered hard enough for her short, straight black hair to ruffle.

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Hey—don’t be stingy with the whipped cream, please.”

  “I am a queen among baristas—I memorize all my regular customers’ preferences.” She mounded whipped cream on top of the cappuccino and sprinkled it with bits of mint-chocolate candy.

  Giulia closed her eyes and savored the first swallow. “Dear Lord, that’s good. I suppose you deserve a tip for this.”

  “You suppose right.” She executed a precise bow after Giulia paid her. “Tell me what’s up before the eight-thirty crowd hits.”

  “I’m going undercover again.”

  “Not in another convent!”

  “Not in this lifetime.” Giulia shuddered and sipped coffee to take away the phantom chill from the thought. “No, at the Wildflower.”

  “No way. Really? My family went there for years when we were kids. It was a family-type place back then, called Pine Candles. Swimming, archery, canoeing, tennis, campfires, the works. We loved it.” Mingmei unwrapped a piece of gingerbread and nibbled it. “What’s going on, or can’t you tell me?”

  “You know I can’t. Here’s the problem. I need to change the way I look, but not anything drastic. I’m working housekeeping, so it has to be simple.” She took a deep breath. “What do you know about chemical hair straightening?”

  “Ugh, it smells like that stuff they use for permanents and it doesn’t last forever.”

  “That’s great. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.” She ran her fingers through her curls. “I love my hair. I don’t want to change it forever.”

  Mingmei gave Giulia a calculating look. “Your timing on this is too accurate. I planned to waylay you when you got off the bus today. I need moral support.”

  Giulia switched into “Sister Regina the counselor” mode automatically. “What’s up?”

  “I’m getting my navel pierced.”

  She relaxed, switching back into “Giulia the regular person.” “You’ve got three piercings in each ear. What’s so different about your navel?”

  “My sister says hers hurt like twenty bee stings. I don’t do pain. But my sweetie gave me the most gorgeous lapis lazuli belly button ring for my birthday—look.” She took a small jewelry box from her pocket. On a piece of jeweler’s cotton lay a gold-veined blue sphere on a curved stainless-steel bar with a smaller sphere at the other end.

  Giulia touched the lapis. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I know. I’m dying to wear it, but I’m a big sissy. However, you just gave me the most awesome idea: My best friend for, like, ever works at Glitz, and she does amazing things with hair. If you come hold my hand while their piercing lady punctures my stomach, I’ll get Jeanie to work her magic on your hair.”

  A little of the worry lifted from Giulia’s shoulders. “Would she? But I have to be at the Wildflower this afternoon.”

  Mingmei put the jewelry box back into her pocket. “Piece of cake. My appointment’s for eleven forty-five. Glitz is ten minutes on foot if we cut through a bunch of parking lots.”

  “That’s prime time. How will she fit me in?”

  Mingmei finished the gingerbread. “That’s the thing. She just switched shops and she’s rebuilding her client list. She has the time. Here. Wait a minute.” She woke up her cell phone and dialed. “Jeanie? Get out of bed, you slug. You got anyone for quarter to twelve today? … Spare me. You know you should’ve got up half an hour ago … Excellent. You do now.” She gave Giulia a thumbs-up. “I’m bringing my friend the ex-nun, and she needs her hair straightened … You can ask her that. How much should she bring? Whoa. Okay, thanks. I’ll tell her. See you in a few hours.” She put away the phone. “Good news and bad news. Good news is she can do it. Bad news is it’s ninety bucks. She’s cutting twenty off the price because she wants tons of convent dirt.”

  Giulia grinned. “I can satisfy her. Honest, I thought it’d cost more than that. There’s an ATM for my bank in the convenience store next to the post office.” She pointed to the coffee cup. “This is Heaven in a twelve-ounce cup.”

  “Too sweet for me. I’ll take jasmine tea any day.”

  “If only I were better at forcibly converting people to … anything.”

  “If you were, we wouldn’t be friends.”

  “Then I’m happy. Here.” Giulia reached into her purse and handed Mingmei a square, flat box. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Ooh, presents. Buddhism’s only failing is it doesn’t have anything like Christmas.” She ripped away the ribbon and paper. “They’re perfect! They match the navel ring.”

  She held the chandelier earrings up to the overhead light. The rows of dark blue crystals glittered against her hair. “I am so wearing these to the All Night Santa Disco.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “SIDNEY, COULD YOU HAND me another piece of tape, please?”

  Giulia placed a sheet of the multipage report on the Wildflower employees at the top corner of the collage she’d already created, and taped it down. The connected papers covered half the floor between the window and her desk. Barbara had been more than generous with confidential information. Part of Giulia was appalled at this flagrant breach of confidentiality, even as another part was thrilled at the wealth of knowledge on Katie’s behalf.

  “How many more?” Giulia said.

  “Two.” Sidney held one page over Giulia’s shoulder, more tape in her other hand.

  “Good. This one can go here … and the last … here. Can you help me lift it?”

  Together they raised the crazy quilt of information. Several edges flapped, but they walked it over to the bulletin board and pinned it up without incident.

  Sidney looked it over. “This is what you call a clue collage?”

  “Someday I’ll patent the idea.” Giulia took six different colored highlighters from the Penguin Santa pen holder on her desk. “Now I’ll color-code important points in each employee’s information.”

  “Isn’t this against some kind of privacy law?”

  “Nope. Captain Reilly had a warrant and the resort owner wants to help.” Giulia tapped the pink marker against her bottom lip. The clock was ticking. Katie needed her.

  Frank came out of his office. “Nice collage. Where are you going to hide it when clients walk in?”

  “The bottom drawer of the file cabinet. Everything else goes in there.” She drew pink lines over the housekeeping names.

  “Sexist.”

  Giulia made a face at him. “It was the first color in my hand. Most of the employees are women anyway, so your point is moot.”

  Sidney squinted at the printouts. “They have male employees at a women-only resort? Oh, wait, they’d have to at least interview them because of equal opportunity and all that.”

  “Heavy lifting and general maintenance for one. You know, the handyman position. Also cross-country ski instructor.” She used green for maintenance and yellow for the chef. “I saw one more male name … nope, two. One of the sous che
fs and the head of recreation.” Blue for athletics and purple for games.

  The phone rang. Frank took Sidney’s place over Giulia’s shoulder.

  “The masseuse—she’s married to the ski instructor—gets purple.” Giulia highlighted as she spoke. “Back office gets orange. Billing, desk clerks, telephones. Wait staff … yellow like the kitchen. Head chef. Sous chef number two. Table bussers, dishwashers, bartender. Oh, my, one of their chefs specializes in desserts.”

  “Don’t get distracted by the presence of high-class sugar.” Frank lowered his voice. “Look ahead to the all-natural desserts at Sidney’s wedding.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with expanding your taste horizons,” she whispered back.

  “I’ve seen her ‘save the planet’ menu. I’ll be spending my time at the groom’s food stations.”

  Sidney hung up the phone. Giulia returned to her collage.

  “Equipment rental, blue. There are only two other housekeepers. You were right, Frank. I’m going to fall asleep on my keyboard tomorrow morning.”

  “I will tuck a blanket around you and close the blinds.”

  “What an understanding boss.”

  Sidney giggled at her monitor. “They have a gift shop. I bet they have X-rated movies for the rooms.”

  “I’ve seen it, but I didn’t have time to look at the shelves.”

  Frank came over to her desk. “If it was a guys-only place you know they would. This website looks like a cross between a gardening-

  club show and a girls’ night out.”

  Giulia came around to Sidney’s other side. “The rooms are just as beautiful in person. The bathrooms are to die for. I haven’t seen the indoor pool yet. Oh, those menus. If I were gay, I’d go there once a year forever.”

  Sidney giggled again. “They have in-room massage. I know what that means.”

  “Maybe not,” Giulia said.

  Frank and Sidney both stared at her. “Yes, it does,” they said.

  She held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll take your word for it. I shall now retreat to my sheltered corner and learn more about the employees.”