Nun But The Brave (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 3)

by Alice Loweecey

  “This is what’s called a Tiny House, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. You interested in the movement?”

  “The movement?”

  “Smaller footprint. More in tune with nature instead of subduing it. Off the grid.” He gestured with his thumb at the Penelec meter on the side of the house. “I’m stuck with city power while I live here, but it won’t last forever.”

  Sidney might once have fallen in with this movement, but not now that she and Olivier had Jessamine. Giulia couldn’t picture two adults and a baby in this minimalist house.

  “What about storing clothes and all these vegetables canned for the winter?” She wondered if he was a reader and did a quick calculation of the house’s square footage. She and Frank would have to build furniture out of their book collection to fit them all in.

  “I dug out a space underneath. It’s small, like the house. Has enough room for canned-good shelves and storage bins.” He moved onto the grass invading the next row of beans.

  Giulia seized the point of connection. “My grandmother’s house had a fruit cellar. If I could add to my own house, one of those would be first on the list.”

  “Yeah, my canning skills are limited, but I supplement them with the right girlfriends.” He tossed more inedible growth into the compost bin. “So the whole Facebook thing. Josie and I dated for a while but split up. I’m not going into details. It’s my business, not yours. The problem was all her friends who hated hunting decided to hate me too.”

  He spoke slower than Marjorie and Diane and she kept up with ease, even one-handed. “I’ve seen pictures of Joanne on hunting trips.”

  “Trips? Are you kidding? Josie worked two jobs, and I’ve been at my current place less than a year. A bunch of us like to get together for a weekend out in the woods around here. Josie and I would render the kill and we’d all share the meat.”

  Giulia’s stomach shuddered at the mental movie of gutting, skinning, and carving up a deer. “So the hunters weren’t the ones making veiled threats on Facebook.”

  “Not a chance. When you share death with people you get real tight. Josie’s shallow college friends are the ones who had it in for me.” He stood and stretched, giving Giulia a better view of his tatted muscles. “I didn’t know Josie was missing until her sister posted on Josie’s Facebook page.”

  “What did you think happened to her?”

  A shrug.

  “Dunno, but if I had to guess, she got carjacked or mugged and the mugger hid her body. Josie was in okay shape, but she never took self-defense seriously.”

  Giulia cast a lure. “Joanne was somewhat overweight in the pictures I’ve seen.”

  “You’re looking at old pictures. Josie dropped some flab last spring. Made her a better hunter.” He took a step forward. “Are those—” He appeared to rethink his choice of words. “What are those friends of Josie’s on Facebook accusing me of?”

  Giulia stopped typing and brought up the Facebook conversation. As he read, Larabee’s tanned face darkened and his jaw clenched.

  “Stupid bint couldn’t even manage the classic limerick rhyme. If I knew where she lived, I’d do a hell of a lot more than post bad poetry on the Net.”

  Giulia put a few microns more distance between them. He saw and backed off.

  “Okay. Coming clean because it’s no secret anyway. I’ve got a record. Hung out with a bad crowd in high school. Drugs, you know? I stole money from my mother and cold-cocked my father when he tried to stop me. He called the cops and my gang threw me under the bus. I ended up with six months in juvie plus three years’ probation. Try finding a job after that. I joined the Marines, but they were too much like juvie for my stomach. No freedom and too many higher-ups ordering me around. Now I work second shift at one of those big shipping warehouses. When you have muscles, people will hire you no matter what.”

  Giulia typed it all up.

  “A female police detective showed up here a couple of months ago,” he continued. “She wore authority like Dracula’s cape. We didn’t get along.” A short laugh. “She looked real disappointed when I told her I hadn’t seen Josie in weeks and we were still friends after our breakup.”

  His watch beeped. “I have to leave for work. Here’s why I think Josie was offed by a stranger: Nobody argued with Josie. I mean, not ever. The only disagreements we had were over gun versus bow hunting and those were more like professional debates. Josie gave a crap about people. She listened to you when you talked. She didn’t give you half an ear while she thought up what she was going to say next.” He knocked more dirt off the trowel and walked between the houses to the front garden. Giulia pretended she didn’t recognize his power game, saved her document, and followed him.

  “Before you get any ideas, remember what I said: Our breakup was mutual. Our work schedules didn’t match, and I like a woman who’s more assertive in bed.” He glanced at a teenager walking two poodles and texting at the same time. “Who’s paying you? Her sister? Tell her if she wants to do something useful, she should set up a cooking scholarship in Josie’s name. She would’ve liked that.”

  Eleven

  At eight thirty Wednesday morning, the Nunmobile entered Sunset Shores’ circular driveway. Diane had described Sunset Shores as a huge complex of buildings. Apparently Diane indulged in the occasional understatement.

  Sunset Shores was a miniature city. A four-story apartment building faced the street. Along the left and right sides of the driveway, rows of single-story condos. As she drove farther around the circle, a smaller building came into view. Its manicured gardens with wide flagged paths were enclosed by a tall wrought-iron fence. The driveway curved in front of the fence and branched into ten handicapped parking spots. Giulia continued past those to another branch behind the back of the main apartment building with forty empty parking spots.

  The double entrance doors slid open on their own. Frosty air enveloped her. Talk about winter in the middle of summer. The air-conditioning here would keep polar bears comfortable. A few steps farther into the lobby and her nose inhaled a complex mix of bacon, coffee, flowery air freshener, and disinfectant. The sand-colored wallpaper complemented the carpet design of primary shapes in maroon, navy, and mustard.

  The clatter of silverware and buzz of multiple conversations came from a huge dining room on her right. On her left, she noted a craft boutique and four unisex bathrooms. Facing her, a receptionist more than twice Giulia’s age sat at a kidney-shaped desk crocheting a baby blanket.

  “Good morning,” Giulia said. “I’d like to speak with Milo Chapers, please.”

  The receptionist set down her crochet project. “May I have your name?”

  “Giulia Driscoll.”

  “One moment. I’ll see if he’s in his office.” She picked up the phone, but instead of speaking into it waved it at a thin, balding man coming out of the dining room. “Mr. Chapers, you have a visitor.”

  He squinted at Giulia. “Can it wait? We’re near the end of the breakfast rush.” He vanished through a swinging door down the hall.

  The receptionist changed a brief frown in his direction into a smile at Giulia. “You can have a seat in the visitor’s lounge.” She pointed to a doorway next to the craft storefront.

  Giulia made it halfway there when a plump old woman blocked her way with a metal cane.

  “Mary Ellen, why aren’t you in school?” She scowled at Giulia’s…clothes? hair? makeup?

  After a moment’s hesitation, Giulia said, “We have today off.”

  The cane thumped a dark blue circle on the rug. “Schools mollycoddle you kids these days. You need more homework, not more days off.” She pulled a lace-edged handkerchief from her sleeve and snorted into it. “Back in my day, Sister Mary Catherine beat the catechism into us with a wooden pointer.” She stared at Giulia over the handkerchief. “Did Sis
ter Immaculata put you in detention again?”

  A middle-aged woman in a nurse’s uniform hurried up to them. “Hortense, it’s quilting time. We have to get your puppy quilt supplies from your room.”

  The old woman huffed. “Nag, nag, nag.”

  The nurse put a knobby hand on Hortense’s arm, but the cane came up and the nurse backed off a step.

  “Leave me alone. I’m not feeble yet.” She reversed the cane and banged it on a crimson carpet triangle.

  The nurse made an apologetic face at Giulia, who smiled.

  A moment later, Hortense hooked her cane around the nurse’s elbow. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

  “I’m going with you to find your quilting basket.”

  “What are you waiting for, then?” She tugged the nurse closer with the cane. “Help me balance. Do your job.”

  “Ms. Driscoll?” Milo Chapers took the nurse’s place as she led her charge away. “What can I do for you?” He had the harried air of a middle manager saddled with an inexperienced staff.

  Giulia didn’t need Lady Rowan the psychic to tell her this man needed minions. “Is there an office where we can talk for a few minutes?”

  “What’s this all—” He glanced around at two wizened ladies a foot away comparing knitting patterns and a man looking at the daily activities sheet while adjusting his hearing aid. “Let’s use my office.”

  He led Giulia past the swinging door and opened the door after it. A bronze nameplate at eye level read “Food Services.”

  At least two managers shared the small office. On the right-hand wall hung several photos of a man and woman with a baby and a Scottie dog: in front of a Christmas tree, on a beach, at Halloween. On the left-hand wall two photos of Milo with an older man and woman: at a birthday party and crossing the finish line in a bicycle race. The top of the desk couldn’t be seen under in-out files, an outdated computer, and stacks of paper in various colors.

  Giulia sat on the edge of a doctor’s waiting room type chair and explained her purpose at Sunset Shores. Chapers changed his hassled expression for an annoyed one.

  “At first I was worried Ms. Philbey had met with foul play or an accident of some kind. But when her landlord and I entered her apartment, it appeared more like the living space of someone who had left for an extended vacation rather than of someone who expected to return home at any time. Do you see what I mean?”

  Giulia’s impression of him from his police statement had been correct. The man might have been born with a pole up his butt.

  She played a disingenuous card. “What exactly did the apartment look like?”

  “Every surface had been scrubbed clean. The refrigerator was empty. There was no open mail or an unfinished book on a table or even a newspaper in the recycle bin.” His narrow chest swelled.

  Giulia typed in her iPad as cover. Indignant Chapers looked way too much like the famous National Geographic photo of the angry bluebird. She said, “You assumed she simply walked away from her life here?”

  The bluebird’s feathers ruffled. “It was perfectly obvious to me. Her landlord disagreed, but he was likely thinking about the rent. The police agreed with my conclusion. I said as much to Ms. Philbey’s sister when she came here.”

  This hallway of an office would have been too small for such a confrontation. Giulia had to resort to the note-writing smokescreen again.

  A pager on Chapers’ hip went off. He frowned at the message on its small screen.

  “I’m afraid I have to truncate this interview. If you’ll come with me, I’ll introduce you to our morning chef. He was much more intimate with Joanne than I was.” His pale face flamed scarlet. “I mean, that is, I—”

  Giulia tucked her iPad in her messenger bag and stood. “I understand. Thank you.” She watched the back of his pulsing red neck as they passed through the swinging door.

  Interesting.

  Twelve

  Head morning chef Edward “just Eddie, please” Marstan looked like a young Colin Firth but without the charisma. Or the voice. An irregular pattern of bacon grease dots marred his uniform, but beneath it lurked the body of a weightlifter. He slumped in the wicker chair opposite Giulia as they sat in the gazebo on the lawn in front of the condos.

  “I don’t get out here often enough. Joanie liked to come here on break to breathe air that didn’t smell like fry grease.”

  Giulia knew a disappointed lover when she saw one. They always wanted to talk. She wrote a header on a new document in her iPad and counted to herself: Five…four…three…two…

  “Joanie and I were equals here. Before she disappeared, I mean. Last month the head chef won two hundred grand in Powerball and quit. If Joanie had been here, the promotion would have been hers, no question. Angie would’ve tried to stab her in the back, but Angie is a hack. Joanie could make this food service glop taste like real food. I’m not up to her level, but I’m working on it.”

  Two women using walkers moved past the gazebo, talking in high-pitched voices about the women in the latest episode of The Bachelor. Eddie waited for them to cross the parking lot to the other row of condos.

  “I’m glad Joanie’s sister hired you. She got all in Chapers’ face when she came here. Did you know he didn’t call her for a whole week after Joanie stopped showing up? The cops guilted him into telling her. We could hear her in his office even through two closed doors. His hairline receded half an inch out of fear. We compared impressions of it after she left.”

  A skeletal woman opened the back door of the main building. She lit a cigarette and indulged in a long, slow inhale and exhale. Then she dragged two bulging trash bags over to a dumpster concealed behind a privacy fence. After a plastic lid slammed, she walked closer to the gazebo and said, “Marstan, the boss says he needs the canned good reorder list ASAP.”

  “Will do, Angie.” In a low voice to Giulia, he said, “If she’d eat something besides kale smoothies and boiled quinoa, she might learn the difference between savory and over-spiced. She’ll never be more than an assistant until she stops being afraid of food.”

  Giulia picked up the tangent and ran with it. “Judging from her specialty cakes, Joanne appreciated food.”

  Eddie frowned at Giulia as though she harbored an ulterior motive. “Just because Joanie didn’t starve herself—”

  Giulia stopped him. “No. That’s not what I meant at all.”

  Eddie relaxed. “Good. I’m sick to death of everyone assuming Joanie was fat and unloved because she didn’t wear a size zero. Joanie was—is—a great person. She listened—listens—when you talk. She even helps out this crazy cat lady from her church. She can hunt with a rifle and a bow and arrow and gut a deer. But she can get all girly-girled up when she wants. For Sunset’s Christmas party she put on sparkle nails and everything. She’s got it all.”

  Giulia typed: Joanne either had no idea Eddie worshiped her or he had made an overture and she turned him down.

  He took an antique pocket watch out of the shirt pocket beneath his uniform. “I can give you another twelve minutes before the ten o’clock group meeting.”

  Giulia leaned forward. “What do all her coworkers think happened?”

  “It was like this: About three months before she disappeared, Joanie started to change. She dropped a bunch of weight and got all ‘I know something you don’t know.’ It got under some people’s skin. When the cops showed, the tall, hot one got some of us to talk, but the Alzheimer’s patients freaked out her minion. He couldn’t even look them in the eye.” He sat straighter. “Sorry. Derail. After the cops left, Chapers couldn’t stop the gossip.” He took out his cell phone and showed Giulia a screenshot. “They started an office pool, like when someone’s pregnant and everybody puts in a buck to guess the time and date of birth.”

  Giulia took a picture of the screenshot and read: />
  “Pregnant.”

  “Won the lottery.” Someone had written next to that, “Lightning never strikes twice.”

  “Secret reality TV show contestant.”

  “Spy called out to a covert rescue mission.”

  “Eloped.” Three different names followed; Eddie’s wasn’t one.

  She handed back his phone. “It that all?”

  He shook his head. “We make decent money here, but Joanie started to hit the casinos. She never did before. Chapers went with her a couple of times. They never let on whether they won or lost. Sometimes Joanie would play poker with some of the more with-it residents. I got the feeling she let them win.” He stood. “One more thing. Joanie changed the way she dressed too. She used to wear plain pants and tan or black shirts. I used to tell her she’d look good in red or yellow, but she only altered her pattern for the summer picnic and the Christmas party. When all her other changes happened, she started to wear camouflage and Army-Navy surplus stuff. I asked her about it, but she switched on her new attitude and wouldn’t answer me.”

  Giulia walked back to the parking lot with him. “The police are convinced Joanne vanished voluntarily.”

  “No!” Eddie glanced up at the windows and lowered his voice. “Chapers said that too, and so did the police who came here. The rest of the staff gave up on Joanie. Never mind all the times she listened to them and helped them out with some trouble or other. I don’t know why everyone’s pretending she doesn’t matter. She got in an accident and is in a coma in a hospital in the sticks somewhere. Has to be.” He put a hand on the doorknob and said in an even lower voice, “When you find Joanie, tell her she matters to me.”

  Thirteen

  After Giulia spoke with the other breakfast staff, she learned the big pool money was on Joanne either having an unknown boyfriend’s secret love child or eloping with a billionaire who’d met her while visiting one of the residents. Third in line was a James Bond scenario from the nursing students, who were thrilled to talk to a real-life private eye.