Praise for the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series
“Giulia is a sympathetic, well-drawn character who has built a full life for herself after she 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
Books in 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)
Short Stories
CHANGING HABITS
(prequel to NUN TOO SOON)
Sign up for Henery Press updates
and we’ll deliver the latest on new books, sale books, and pre-order books, plus all the happenings in the Hen House!
CLICK TO SIGN UP
(Note: we won’t share your email address and you can unsubscribe any time.)
Copyright
THE CLOCK STRIKES NUN
A Giulia Driscoll Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition | May 2017
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 © 2017 by Alice Loweecey
Cover art by Stephanie Chontos
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: 978-1-63511-215-3
Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-216-0
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-217-7
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-218-4
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
For Pat,
the best friend anyone could ever have.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Without the help of friends and experts, this book would not be complete. Thanks to fellow Hens Annette Dashofy and Wendy Tyson for answering my panicked questions about Pennsylvania highways and vehicle rules. To Natalie J. Case for the crash course and ongoing advice on Tarot reading. To Joe Nickell, Senior Research Fellow of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry: for sharing his years of expertise in finding the truth behind hundreds of so-called “hauntings.” (Plus a secret thank you to my friends who graciously allowed me to give them cameo roles.)
One
Giulia Driscoll, formerly Sister Mary Regina Coelis, fell to her knees before her admin.
“Zane, please tell me one of your friends works in cloning.”
Zane Hall, Summa Cum Laude at MIT, survivor of telemarketing hell, and Driscoll Investigations’ unofficial bouncer, gaped at his boss.
“Ms. D., please get up.”
“I planned to prostrate myself at your feet, but this one would object.” She laid a hand on her barely there baby bump.
Zane’s ghostlike complexion tried to pale even further. “You’re still kneeling.”
Giulia stood. “I spent ten years on my knees and have the calluses to prove it. Ninety seconds is a vacation.”
Sidney Martin, DI’s all-natural earth mother assistant and master unveiler of prenuptial secrets, peered over the top of her monitor.
“Why the interest in cloning? Although our farm would save a boatload on breeding fees if we could make test tube alpacas.”
Giulia raised her voice over the early morning traffic noises coming through the open window. “Because it would take three of me and two of both of you to handle every potential new client in my inbox.”
“Why are we the flavor of the month?” Sidney waved the words away the moment she said them. “Who cares? Now we can start Jessamine’s college fund way before her first birthday. Olivier’s already hinting at making her a brother or sister.”
Giulia groaned. “Please don’t have another baby until I’m back from maternity leave with this one.”
Zane’s Humphrey Bogart baritone tagged onto Giulia’s plea. “I’m sorry, Ms. D, but nobody in my circle was into cloning tech.”
“This might be the first time you’ve disappointed me.” Giulia pressed one hand into the small of her back. “I don’t know whether to send Stone’s Throw a thank you note or see if one of our prospective clients will let us borrow their ghost.”
“Their
what?” Sidney said.
After a few mouse clicks, Zane turned his screen to face the room. The home page for Stone’s Throw Lighthouse Bed and Breakfast proclaimed:
Have a Haunted Holiday!
Thanks to Driscoll Investigations, the Stone’s Throw Ghost
has been Tamed!
Can YOU sleep in the Haunted Room?
Now Taking Reservations for Halloween Weekend
and Beyond!
Luminous ghosts in old-fashioned costumes flitted across the screen. When Zane turned up the volume, a female voice moaned in time with the flying ghosts.
Giulia sagged into Sidney’s client chair. “Every single email asking us to de-haunt a house is connected to Stone’s Throw.”
“But you proved there wasn’t a ghost in the lighthouse.”
Giulia rested her forehead on her arms. “Why let facts get in the way of a good advertising scheme?”
The phone rang. “Good morning, Driscoll Investigations,” Zane said and listened. “One moment, please.” He put the call on hold.
“Do we perform exorcisms?”
Without lifting her head, Giulia said, “We do not.”
Zane gave the answer to the caller, listened a moment, repeated the answer, and hung up.
Sidney said, “Exactly how many emails this morning?”
Now Giulia raised her head. “Eight. Two poltergeists, four Ouija Board requests, and two asking for Tarot readings.”
“But we don’t do any of that,” Sidney said.
“Thanks to Stone’s Throw, the entire state of Pennsylvania thinks we do.” She raised her head. “My floor is covered with failed attempts at drawing up schedules to accommodate our regular caseload plus the possible paranormal branch of the business.”
Sidney held up a much written on spreadsheet. “I know I don’t need to refresh you on our current caseload.”
“You do not. But the wise business doesn’t dismiss a whole queue of new customers beating on its door. In a manner of speaking.” From her private office, her incoming email Godzilla roar punctuated her sentence. “I couldn’t be more popular with the ghost-hunting crowd if I added purple streaks to my head and went to work for Lady Rowan across the street.”
“You’d match the décor,” Zane said.
“I’d almost be willing if I could reverse it when I need to work on regular jobs.”
“I can change the phone greeting,” Zane said. “For Tarot readings, press two. For Ouija Board sessions, press three. For exorcisms, dial 1-800-NEEDAPRIEST.”
Giulia smiled for the first time that morning. “I will not dare you to follow through on the idea.” She turned her head toward the door. “Did you hear that?”
The barest shadow of a human being faded from the frosted glass as everyone looked.
Sidney cupped her hands around her mouth. “It’s the Driscoll Investigations ghooooost.”
Giulia buried her face in her hands. Sidney scurried out of her way and opened the door.
The woman in the hallway plastered herself against the opposite wall. Over Sidney’s shoulder, Giulia saw golden blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin.
Only the woman’s dress stood out: white with a subtle jacquard pattern, it shimmered in the cool dim hall. Giulia estimated its price equaled a month of her own salary.
Sidney glanced back at Giulia before facing the hall again with a warm, welcoming smile on her face.
A single vertebra in the scared-rabbit woman’s spine relaxed. “I’m, that is, I want to talk to, I mean, is this the Driscoll Investigations on the websites for Stone’s Throw and Lady Solana?”
Giulia counted to five in Irish, a skill learned from her husband’s grandmother. Then she walked into the hall holding out her hand. “I’m Giulia Driscoll. How may I help you?”
Two
Giulia plugged in her electric kettle. “Would you like some tea?”
The woman perched on the edge of the client chair in the temporary shelter of Giulia’s private office. Her thin hands gripped the arms of the chair like Giulia’s former Novice Mistress used to grip the arms of her seat in an airplane. Of her mental list of reasons clients this fearful knocked on her door, Giulia chose spousal abuse or a guilty conscience worthy of a tell-all biography.
“Oh—that’s Cissy’s favorite tea.” The woman pointed to the “Constant Comment” picture on the box of Bigelow’s assorted tea.
Giulia took her Godzilla head mug from the shelf under her small tea table. The woman flinched. The mug vanished under the tabletop and Giulia opened her door.
“Sidney, would you bring me two Styrofoam cups from the supply cabinet, please?”
Three minutes later, Giulia poured hot water over the orange spice tea bags in both non-threatening cups. Constant Comment was the only tea three-months-pregnant Giulia didn’t actively hate.
A few more of the woman’s vertebrae loosened at the first sip of “Cissy’s favorite tea,” but that was all. Her eyes twitched to the desk, the painting on the wall, the curtains, the filing cabinet, and back to the tea table. She didn’t come anywhere close to meeting Giulia’s gaze. Her hands clutched the flimsy cup, and Giulia, watching, could barely detect her chest rising and falling as she breathed. This woman could’ve been hired as one of those human statues she’d once seen in New Orleans.
Since her first afternoon appointment wasn’t until two thirty, Giulia accepted the challenge of drawing out the potential client.
“Would you like sugar for your tea?”
The woman started but avoided a “Caution—Hot Tea Is Hot” accident. She sipped.
“No. No. It’s fine.”
The statue returned. An evil imp on Giulia’s shoulder tempted her to check for a talking doll pull string in the woman’s back. Giulia dispatched that particular imp with a mental fly swatter. Instead, she let the silence lengthen. Despite the woman’s makeup, an ashy tinge marred her flawless skin and circles the size of dessert plates ringed her eyes. Close up, the shadow-patterned dress—real silk—and the unusual diamond and silver wedding ring confirmed Giulia’s initial impression of serious money.
When Giulia had suffered through as much of the tea as humanly possible, she said, “Have you stayed at Stone’s Throw?”
Another full-body jerk. “Oh, no.” A police siren screamed along the street and her head snapped toward the window and away again.
Giulia set down her cup.
The woman blurted, “You get rid of ghosts,” and slugged her tea like it was whisky.
Behind her polite smile, Giulia gave a point to one of the old clichés: prying information out of a clam would be easier. “Is there a ghost in your house?”
The big blue eyes finally latched onto Giulia’s. “I’m so happy you believe me. Yes, there is, or maybe there are. We’re not sure how many. The ghosts are trying to drive me out of my mind or out of my house or maybe both, and Pip is wonderful, Pip is my husband, and he’s made my life exactly like a fairy tale. The ghosts are tormenting him as well as me. They won’t let him sleep. They won’t let me sleep unless I play my nursery rhyme recordings. You don’t think I’m silly for listening to nursery rhymes even though I’m an adult, do you?”
“Of course n—”
“The ghosts must have been there all the time, even all those years ago when Mama and Daddy renovated the castle from top to bottom. We call the house a castle because Daddy always called me his little princess even though it’s only a plain old house. Do you think ghosts hide when certain people are around? I do. I think they were scared of Mama and maybe of Aunt Caroline too. When Pip and I were married and he came to live in the castle with me I think maybe they were waiting to see if Pip would scare them too.” A fleeting yet stellar smile. “You’d love Pip too if you met him. Pip is wonderful and he’s not scary at all, but now the ghosts are making our lives a living hell.�
��
“In what way are—”
“Harriet showed me her Tarot cards when I was small, but Mama sent her away. Mama wouldn’t let me have any Tarot cards, but now that the ghosts are ruining our fairy tale, I bought my own set. I’m still learning how to read them. You know Ouija and Tarot and have all kinds of occult knowledge. I read the Stone’s Throw website over and over. You banished the ghosts from that bed and breakfast. Will you do a Tarot reading for me and Pip and see what the ghosts are planning for us? Then we can form our own plan of attack—you, me, and Pip—to kick out the nasty ghosts and make the castle all our own again.” She drained the last of her tea.
Giulia’s own breathing had speeded up to match this breathless monologue.
Voices from the main office penetrated the closed door. The intercom buzzed.
“Ms. Driscoll, your client’s husband would like to join the meeting.” Zane never called Giulia “Ms. D.” when a client could hear.
This time the woman started so violently her empty cup went flying. Giulia snatched it in midair and slam-dunked it in the trash can. With her other index finger, she pressed the reply button. “Please send him in.”
If Paul Newman had smiled instead of smoldered in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Giulia would’ve sworn young, handsome, chiseled Paul Newman now strode into her office and gathered the brittle woman in his arms.
Giulia kept her Oh, my reaction to herself.
The woman launched into another monologue: “Don’t be angry, please, Pip. I couldn’t take it anymore, and when I saw the wonderful reviews of this agency I thought I’d found the one person able to help us banish the ghosts.”
The Clock Strikes Nun Page 1