Hit and Nun (Nun of Your Business Mysteries Book 2)

by Dakota Cassidy

  Again, I looked to Higgs, who was likely thinking what I was thinking. Lucinda sounded very bitter, even though Grady backed her up. Maybe she was jealous of Suzanne’s beauty? Tired of living in her shadow? You know, the usual wallflower/prom queen BFF complex? I couldn’t figure out why she’d stayed with Suzanne so long if she didn’t like her.

  “How long have you been friends with Suzanne?” I asked quietly.

  Lucinda pursed her crimson lips. “I’ve been her stylist for what feels like a hundred years, and at least a hundred men have passed through her doors in that time. I love Suzanne. I really do. I swear I do. She’s opened doors for me that never would have opened without her. We’ve been friends since college, and I’ve followed her all over the world. But I know her almost better than I know myself. I’m calling it as I see it, and if the goal is to help find out who murdered a man as nice as Agnar, I’m going to tell you the truth, and the heck with Suzanne’s snowflake feelings. Agnar deserved better than her. Period.”

  Higgs drew in a breath, his wide chest heaving. “So you knew they were having trouble in their marriage, Miss Ferris?”

  Lucinda’s lips thinned in distaste as she looked down at her perfectly manicured hands. “I know what I saw, and I saw Suzanne treat him poorly all the time. She’d stay out till all hours of the night, ignore his phone calls and texts. She belittled him at every turn. Yet he pandered to her constantly. All she had to do was say jump and he would ask how high, when he was really the one who needed someone to be there for him.”

  I didn’t understand what that meant. So I asked. “Meaning?”

  Myer reached over and grabbed Lucinda’s hand, giving it a squeeze. I didn’t know if it was a signal for her to stop talking or if he was consoling her. “Meaning, Agnar had asthma. He had a horrific attack about a month ago and it landed him in the hospital, but Suzanne was too busy on a set somewhere to come be with him.”

  Lucinda scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “Too busy? Is that what we’re calling sleeping with the grip on set? Then sure. She was too busy.”

  Okey-doke. There was definitely some bitterness there. After hearing Lucinda, I’m surprised it wasn’t Suzanne who’d ended up dead.

  “It’s true,” Grady confirmed in a quiet voice, scratching his bushy, graying beard. “Suzanne ran around behind his back with whoever she thought had the most money.”

  “A movie grip hardly qualifies for the Forbes richest list, Miss Ferris,” Higgs pointed out.

  She barked a sarcastic laugh, her eyes narrowing. “Please. That quickie was only to confirm she’s still got it. It was a throwaway in her trailer on set, and likely only happened because he couldn’t shut up about how much he loved her in Machete Man, and how he’d been a fan ever since. He fed her enormous ego, nothing more. She forgot about him the way she does everyone else, two seconds after she threw him out of her trailer. That’s always how that scenario plays out.”

  Now I inhaled, deeply. Talking to Suzanne’s friends wasn’t going the way I’d expected. The tension was thick enough that I could cut it with a knife. But this was for Knuckles. I wouldn’t stop until I was satisfied I’d gotten everything I needed.

  “So were you all aware she’d get nothing if Agnar found out she was unfaithful or if she wanted a divorce? Is what the article said true about the prenup?” I looked to Myer, his oldest friend, for the answer.

  “It is,” Myer confirmed in a hushed tone. “Agnar had those precautions put in place because his first divorce was so ugly. He lost everything to his ex-wife, and he waited a long time to remarry, but it wasn’t without the sting of a reminder from his first divorce.”

  “Are there any children involved?” Higgs asked.

  Edwin shook his dark head. “No children for either of them.”

  “As if Suzanne would ever allow her body to be sullied by carrying a child,” Grady scoffed on a huffy breath.

  Yet, Myer gave him a scalding glance. “Knock it off, Grady. She’s an actress, and she’s not the first woman who doesn’t want to have downtime from her career to raise children. She’s many things, but don’t crack wise about her resisting procreation.”

  “No, of course, Myer. You’re right. I should thank her for not bringing someone like her into the world,” Grady said, each word like a bullet shot from a gun.

  “Grady!” everyone whisper-yelled at him, making him slump in his chair, his thick lips thinning.

  As I typed some of this information into my phone, I liked Suzanne less and less, if that was at all possible. But if I wasn’t a fan, Grady really wasn’t going to head up her fan club.

  Finally, I asked, “Then I guess the question is, did Agnar know she was running around behind his back? Did he suspect?”

  “Well, obviously, Miss Lavender,” Edwin drawled, looking very bored. “He did see an attorney, didn’t he?”

  Edwin, for all his attractiveness, was rubbing me the wrong way. I didn’t like his condescending tone. “I meant prior to his visit to the attorney’s office, Mr. Garvey. Lucinda’s statement suggests Suzanne has always played around. Did he know she’d been doing this for the entirety of their marriage—or did he happen upon this information just recently?”

  Myer steepled his hands in front of him, his eyes distant. “I think he first realized, or at least finally believed what he saw with his own eyes, when we were in Brazil. I was visiting a restaurant I was opening there, and Suzanne was doing one film or another—”

  “Born in Blood 2,” Lucinda spat with a roll of her eyes, repositioning herself in her chair.

  “Yes. That’s the one,” Myer confirmed with a nod of his dark head. “There was a lot of talk amongst the crew about Suzanne’s behavior, and unfortunately, Agnar overheard some unsavory rumors on set one day. Of course, I did my best to reassure him they were just that—rumors, because we had no confirmation. But the seed had been planted. There was no turning back from there.”

  Nodding, I typed the information into my phone. “And when was this, Mr. Blackmoore?”

  “A year ago,” Lucinda provided, though she appeared less angry now. “If you want schedules or dates and times for Suzanne’s shoots, events, whatever, I have them all on my tablet for at least the last five years. I can send them to your email, if you’d like.”

  “That would be terrific,” I said. And then I made mention of something that had struck me as Lucinda talked about Suzanne. “It sounds like you were more than just her stylist, Lucinda. You sound more like a personal assistant.”

  Her laugh was filled with wry sarcasm as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I was whatever she needed me to be whenever she needed me to be it.”

  Gosh, to be so angry with her friend, to have harbored so much resentment for so long…again, I was surprised Suzanne wasn’t the one who’d ended up dead.

  Cupping my cheek in my hand, I asked, “Do any of you have any idea who could have done this to Agnar? Did he have any enemies? Any altercations, big or small? Could it have been someone Suzanne had an affair with? An overzealous fan? Everything counts at this point, even something you might have thought insignificant at the time could mean something.”

  “I can’t think of a stinking thing, Miss Lavender,” Grady groused, obviously growing weary of my questions. “Suzanne was Suzanne. We accepted that Agnar loved her with blinders on. She came with him as part of the package.”

  When everyone else shook their head in the negative, I decided it was time to ask if I could sift through Suzanne and Agnar’s room, and whatever was left of her belongings that she hadn’t packed and had Higgs cart around as though he were her personal butler.

  “Do any of you have access to their room? I promise not to touch anything. I just want to take a peek. Maybe something will jump out at me.”

  “The police have already done that, Miss Lavender,” Myer assured me. “They were here early this morning, rummaging through both their rooms. As far as we’ve been told, they’ve cleared both rooms. Though, Suzanne hasn’t officia
lly checked out.”

  “Sometimes a fresh set of eyes, uninhibited by certain restraints, can help,” Higgs said, surprising me. I thought the last thing he’d want me doing was rifling around in their personal belongings.

  Lucinda dug around in her beautiful handbag—one that matched her equally beautiful outfit perfectly. “They had separate rooms. I have Suzanne’s key because we had an adjoining room.”

  That information made me pause. “They didn’t stay in the same room? Is that normal for them as a couple?”

  Lucinda’s sigh grated its way out of her lungs. “They never stayed in the same room. Suzanne said, and I quote, ‘Agnar’s wretched wheezing from his asthma keeps me from getting a restful night’s sleep.’”

  Man, one more nail in Suzanne’s coffin. She certainly wasn’t the most compassionate of women.

  I reached over and took the key card, looking to the group once more. “Does anyone have Agnar’s room key?”

  “No, but I’m sure I can get you one,” Myer offered. “I own one of the restaurants in this very hotel. They’ve been very accommodating. I’m sure it’ll be no problem.” He made a quick exit to the front desk, his steps long and sure.

  I pushed back the cushioned chair I’d been sitting on and stood up, extending a hand to each of them. “Again, my condolences to you all. I’m sorry your trip to Portland turned out so poorly, and I hope I didn’t make it worse by being so intrusive.”

  After we all shook hands, Lucinda, being the last of the bunch, pulled me off to the side and whispered, “If you ever want to tap into the absolute gorgeousness that you hide behind your thrift-store clothes, give me a call. I’d be happy to do it pro bono, if only to see what it does to your insanely good-looking cop friend’s insides.”

  I gave her a confused look. First, these were a brand-new pair of jeans, thank you very much, and my T-shirt was clean as a whistle.

  “Oh, no, Miss Ferris. You’ve misunderstood. We’re just friends. Neither of us is in the market for a relationship.”

  Or at least I didn’t think we were. I mean, I sure as heck wasn’t. I was still trying to figure out how not to be a nun.

  “Says you,” Lucinda said on a sly smile and a wink. “You didn’t see him looking at you the way I did.” She gathered up a strand of my very unremarkable shoulder-length hair and held it up to the sunlight. “You have lovely hair, thick and shiny. With the right stylist and coloring, a little lip stain, and you could be a whole new woman. But do yourself a favor and get rid of the blue streak. It does nothing for you. Either way, the offer stands.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured. At least I think I was supposed to be thanking her. Do you thank someone for insulting your clothing?

  Myer brought the key for Agnar’s room to us and once more offered his help if we needed him, and with that, they were gone, leaving Higgs and I to wander off to the elevator in stunned silence.

  When the elevator dinged, we hopped inside, and all at once, my thoughts came rushing out. “Wow. With friends like that, who needs enemies?”

  Higgs leaned back against the wall of the elevator and shook his head with a grim smile. “She’s some piece of work, huh? If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’d be the target, not Agnar. By all accounts, he was a good guy. Even her best friend liked him better than Suzanne.”

  I jabbed a finger in the air to make my point. “See? I told you she wasn’t very nice. They just confirmed my assessment.”

  Higgs grimaced, his expression skeptical. “Yeah, but did she murder Agnar? I have my doubts.”

  I snorted, pinching my temples with my fingers. I had a real headache on the way. “Well, she must have known what they’d say about her wasn’t going to be favorable. She can’t be that blind, can she? If she did murder her husband, she’s hiding in plain sight after that conversation—which takes chutzpah.”

  “I think we both know Suzanne’s got plenty of chutzpah, but it’s suicide to think you can pull something like that off. I vote Suzanne’s not our killer.”

  As the elevator stopped, I checked the time on my phone. I had an hour to look through their rooms before I needed to get to the shop. “I vote you’re the expert. Now, I’ll take Agnar’s room, you take Suzanne’s? If there’s anything left in there, that is. I can’t imagine after five bags worth of luggage there’s much to sift through, but for the sake of thoroughness, we’d better leave no stone unturned.”

  “Agreed,” Higgs said as he stepped out of the elevator and headed down the long, plush hallway, stopping two doors ahead of Agnar’s. “Text me if you need me. Oh, and Trixie? For the record—I like the blue streak in your hair.”

  “You heard her?” I squeaked, hoping the floor would swallow me whole.

  “Just the tail end about your hair.”

  I hid my face, but my cheeks were on fire as I slid the card in the door and stepped inside the cool interior of Agnar’s room, grateful for the air conditioning to ease my embarrassment. Higgs’s comment after Lucinda’s words had me in a tizzy I couldn’t afford to be in right now.

  Sighing, I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts, taking a peek around the opulent room. At first glance, Agnar’s room looked neat as a pin. The bed was still made with foil-covered candies left by the maid service on the pillow. He had but one suitcase and a lone briefcase, and by the looks of it, the police had already tossed both.

  I knelt down and eyed the jumbled pile of clothing, but I didn’t see anything unusual, just a bunch of underwear, a pair of jeans and a couple of polo shirts. I was afraid to touch anything, but then, the police had already been here and done their jobs. There probably wasn’t anything left to sully.

  So what would be the harm if I picked through his clothes and his briefcase?

  I can talk myself into almost anything, and that’s exactly what I did as I plucked his clothing up one by one and dropped them on the floor until the suitcase was empty. I was doing this for the good of my cherished friend Knuckles, who I didn’t want to see sucked into the web of infidelity and deceit that is Suzanne.

  Next up, the bathroom. Crossing the room with its thick white carpet and deep mahogany furniture, I entered the bathroom and flipped the lights on, where I encountered a marble sunken tub with jets, a long vanity, and two sinks with gold faucets. There wasn’t much to see but the guest shampoos and soap, as yet unused. I imagine the police had taken any personal toiletries to test them for this toxin.

  Darn.

  I caught a glimpse of my defeat in the lighted mirror and lifted my hair, holding it up to the lights. There was nothing gorgeous about my hair, or me, for that matter. In fact, if I were to rate myself objectively, I was quite average, and I was at peace with that.

  I shook off Lucinda’s comments. I didn’t need a makeover, and I didn’t need to focus on my insecurities. I needed to catch a killer, and so far, I was having no luck.

  My phone buzzed, signaling a text. I pulled it from my back pocket and went to the door to open it for Higgs.

  He poked his head inside, wrapping his hand around the door. “Anything?”

  “Not so far,” I said, crossing the room to open up Agnar’s briefcase. “You?”

  Higgs shook his head and walked toward the big window overlooking Portland. “Not a darn thing. I think what we saw last night really was all of it.”

  Popping the briefcase open, I doubted we’d find anything in it, simply due to the fact that it wasn’t locked. Clearly, Agnar wasn’t concerned about anyone finding anything of importance. But I was going to give it a look-see anyhow.

  As I lifted the papers inside, I discovered I was right. There wasn’t anything but a receipt for a chain for his bike and some kind of modern art magazine.

  With a ragged sigh, I said, “Nothing. You check the nightstands and I’ll look under the bed.”

  Kneeling, I lifted the heavy white duvet cover, throwing it up over the bed and using my phone’s flashlight app in order to see, but again, I came up with a big fat zero. My shoulder
s slumped in defeat as I sat cross-legged on the floor and closed my eyes.

  “Being an amateur sleuth is hard, ex-undercover police officer, Cross Higglesworth.”

  Higgs came and sat next to me and patted me on the shoulder. “I know, Nancy Drew. But you asked some great questions back there.”

  I gave him an odd look. “Ya think? I had no idea what I was doing. I feel like I should have asked more or gone deeper.”

  “You pretty much covered it all, Trixie. It’s some of the same stuff I would have asked if I were officially investigating Agnar’s murder.”

  I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to the mattress, my tension headache worsening “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Higgs. I wasted your entire morning for nothing. Go on. Call me a fool. I can take it.”

  He laughed his husky chuckle. “You’re not a fool for trying to help Knuckles. I want to help him, too.”

  Okay, enough feeling sorry for myself. Did I really expect to solve this mess in a matter of hours, being the novice I am? I mean, we still don’t know who Jack The Ripper was, and that happened over a hundred years ago, right? So why would I know who’d killed the naked biker one day into an investigation? I was becoming as bad about instant gratification as anyone in this day and age of technology.

  So, in essence, suck it up, Lavender.

  I popped my eyes open—and that’s when I saw it.

  It was just a small discoloration against the snow white of the mattress, but it was enough to grab my attention. I pushed the heavy mattress upward a little and my eyes widened.

  “There’s something in there—under the mattress!” I almost yelped, hopping up. “Help me lift, please, Higgs?”

  Using two hands, Higgs hoisted the mattress up and right there, for all to see, were what at first glance looked like pictures. I grabbed at them, just some flimsy pieces of printer paper, and held them up.

  My eyes went wide with shock and my stomach rumbled in discontent. “Holy ham and cheese!”

  Higgs let the mattress go and moved closer to me. “What is it?”

  Blood coursed through my veins in my excitement as my hands shook. “Well, well, would you look at that.” I flicked the paper with my fingers as I danced around. “Somebody wasn’t telling us everything downstairs, because Suzanne was definitely having an affair—and someone in the group knew it.”