Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2)

by Alice Loweecey

  Rowan dismissed her with a wave of one many-ringed hand. “Go pee on a stick.”

  CeCe stood motionless for a long moment. Then she ran past them all, the screen door banging in her wake.

  Rowan’s finger aimed at Giulia again. “What happened to Mac?”

  Despite being fed up to her eyebrows with people ordering her around, Giulia gave her a brief explanation of that morning’s accident. When she finished, Rowan turned on one heel, allowed Jasper to steady her, and headed out the screen door.

  Mac appeared in the carriage house doorway. “Rowan?” Her voice and eyes drooped. “What are you doing here?”

  “MacAllister Stone, your aura is the color of a swamp in winter.”

  Mac held onto the doorframe with her good hand. “It’s the pain meds.”

  Rowan beckoned to Jasper. “Help me down the stairs, dear. We have to work on Mac. Ms. Driscoll, I expect you to use the power I see in that veil aura to stop Mac’s troubles immediately.”

  Giulia stalked through the house and out to the patio, where she picked up a bocce ball and smashed it into the grouping at the far end of the court. Three large balls flew into the air and landed on the grass.

  Her right shoulder and back screeched at her like nails on a chalkboard. She crouched on the grass, breathing through the pain. Stupid her. Stupid Rowan. Stupid ghost.

  Frank sat next to her. “If I mention the Veiled Woman, you won’t be able to chuck the next ball at my head, right?” He massaged her shoulders with a light touch.

  Giulia clenched both fists. If Rowan could see her aura now…

  And then she let it go. A deep breath. Another. A long look at the lake shimmering in the sun. A smile for three preschool kids building a My Little Pony out of sand.

  She sat up, rotated her shoulders and back, and nodded at Frank. “Thanks. Because my throwing arm is on the injured reserve list, it would be unsportsmanlike of you to mention that particular entity.”

  “Fine. I’ll play fair.” Frank retrieved the three balls and set them in the court. “Between possessed psychics, bloody writing on the walls, and this ongoing game of pin the tail on the ghost, I want to install a deadbolt on our door.” He tossed a fourth ball into the grouping. “Oh, right. Locked doors won’t stop a ghost.”

  “But they’ll stop a living human. I vote for a chair shoved under the doorknob.”

  Frank’s phone rang. “Driscoll. Yeah, Owen, what’s the word?…What? Are you serious?…Come on, you know I’m not dissing your skills…All right. Thanks for letting me cut the line. The rest of the tests will be ready when?…Sounds good. I owe you.” He returned the phone to his pocket. “It was duck blood.”

  “What?” She made a noise of pure frustration. Then, “Thank God it wasn’t human.”

  Frank kicked the pallino to the opposite end of the court. “A nice, juicy murder would be just the thing to wrap this mess up fast.”

  “You are a sick individual. You’re also missing the good news here: Who has easy access to ducks? The guy who spends ten hours a day at the dock.”

  Frank made a rude gesture at a seagull diving on something in the grass. “Get out of my face, useless bird. I have only a minor problem picturing Whining Walter slashing a duck’s throat and draining its blood.”

  “Hold it.” Giulia whipped through her mental catalog of facts for this case. “Drat and drat. He can’t stand blood. You said so yourself.”

  Frank stared with blank eyes at the bocce court. “You’re right.”

  “However, I have no problem picturing Walter sawing through the gallery railings so Aunt Mac will fall to her death on the patio stones. I have less of a problem picturing Solana or Cedar or Rowan or Jasper doing the same.” Giulia studied the seagull with more intensity than it deserved “Well, not Jasper, really. But that would mean Rowan’s feeble old lady shtick is as put on as her community theater outfits.” She worked her shoulders some more. “About the mysterious bloody message. Let me see if I can turn Rowan’s theatrics to our advantage.”

  Forty-Five

  Frank went for a walk along the beach to that bench in the center of the rapid Wi-Fi triangle. Giulia headed inside for water and to formulate a Rowan attack strategy.

  A metallic crash came from the kitchen as Giulia passed the doll carriage.

  She ran into the narrow room. Lucy, on her knees, was picking up little frozen cookie half-dollars. An upside-down cookie sheet lay on the floor behind her.

  “Can I help?” Giulia said.

  Lucy looked up. “Oh, Ms. Driscoll. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? Mac’s in the carriage house with her crazy friend and she can’t lift anything anyway, and I wanted to get tonight’s cookies baked now because I’ve still got cleaning to finish and those stupid cats are trying to kill me.”

  Giulia joined her on the floor and together they found all the cookie bits. “Shall I get more from the freezer?”

  “Two dozen, please, thanks. Tonight is sugar cookies with M&Ms. All the boxes are labeled.” She soaped a dishcloth and wiped up the smears and crumbs from the floor while Giulia set the cookie sheet on the counter and counted out twenty-four frozen cookie buttons.

  Lucy slid the tray into the oven and brought out iced tea mix. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces about this morning. What exactly happened up on the Widow’s Walk?”

  Giulia retold the story, downplaying her own part in the rescue, while Lucy filled the glass dispenser with water and ice and added the powdered mix.

  “Wow,” she said when Giulia finished. “I thought those railings were sturdy as iron. Mac spent so much on the restoration. Wonder why she cheaped out on that one thing.”

  Giulia gave her a neutral reply. She wasn’t falling for this passive, sweet Lucy, not when she’d seen angry, frustrated, sneering Lucy so many times these past days. Granted, she’d been looking for discontent, but why be surprised it existed? She ought to give herself more credit for detecting essential clues.

  The oven timer buzzed. Lucy took a hot pad out of one of the drawers and set the cookie sheet on top of the oven. Giulia, being an adult and all, did not snatch a hot, fragrant, chocolate-studded delight the instant Lucy turned away to get a spatula.

  “What else can I do to help?” Giulia said.

  “Oh, no, really, I’ve got it from here. Tea in the fridge, cookies in a basket with the red cloth, set them both out at seven.” She looked at the oven clock. “Oh, geez, it’s twenty to five and I haven’t set the table for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

  “I’ll get out of your way, then.”

  “Thanks a bunch, Ms. Driscoll. Some of these guests don’t see me at all.”

  Giulia allowed herself a moment of grunt-to-grunt empathy. “Like you’re furniture. I know.”

  Lucy set the tea in the refrigerator and studied Giulia. “You do know, don’t you? Dishwasher?”

  “Also laundry and housekeeper.”

  Lucy held out her fist and Giulia bumped it. “You’re a guest, so please don’t offer to help with breakfast. Mac will be in here directing everything.” Her smile turned sarcastic. “Some people don’t think it counts as work if your clothes aren’t covered with oil and fish scales by the end of the day. It’s a good thing I know how to use a hammer and saw and manly tools like that, right?”

  “Testosterone kills too many brain cells.”

  “That and booze.” With a muttered, “Men,” she ran water into the sink and added dish soap.

  Giulia tossed the rules of polite society into the trash and walked across the parking lot to the carriage house. “Mac? I’m coming in.” She opened the door and entered without an invitation.

  Rowan’s purples and greens complemented the seafoam couch like she’d planned it. Maybe she’d given Mac feng shui advice for her personal space. Jasper stood at one of the windows lookin
g out at the lake. Mac sat in one of the coral chairs, her arm on a seashell pillow and her face less gray, but with tiny pain lines at the corners of her eyes.

  “What do you want?” she said in a faded voice.

  Rowan jumped into the conversation. “She has waves of determination pouring off her. I do believe she suspects me of playing a part in your troubles.”

  Polite Smile Number One appeared. “I think we all agree that the situation has escalated from vandalism to life-threatening.”

  “Oh, very well.” Rowan patted Mac’s uninjured hand. “You leave this to me. The pain pill should kick in anytime now. Jasper, come help me with the stairs. Ms. Driscoll, come along.”

  Giulia walked behind Rowan and Jasper, every shred of willpower focused on letting the scene play out rather than shouting, “Stop leading me around like a dog on a leash.”

  Rowan paused when she reached the inn’s living room. “I sense residue of a strong spiritual contact.” She looked over her shoulder at Giulia.

  “Solana held her weekly séance on that couch. This past Sunday, her Ouija board spelled out several messages and at the end she appeared to be possessed by a ghost who claimed to be Mac’s ancestor.”

  Rowan’s hands stroked the air, the couch, the coffee table, and the mantelpiece as she stuck her tongue out like a snake sensing what it couldn’t see.

  “Let’s get to the lighthouse now.” She held out an arm for Jasper.

  Giulia kept behind them so she could drop Polite Smile Number One. When they passed the sunroom, Joel and Gino were pressing their faces against the windows. They came inside a moment later.

  “What’s up, Giulia?” Joel said.

  Rowan butted in again. “”I’m here to help Mac and attune myself to the spirits in her house.”

  Gino coughed. Joel turned and took the stairs two at a time, returning with CeCe, Marion, and Anthony.

  Rowan moved into the lighthouse tower and paid no attention to anyone living except Jasper. She touched the painting on the wall. Giulia held her breath, but Rowan passed it by and ascended the first few steps. Jasper kept one step below her, but Rowan remained steady. Her hands came up again, palpating the air.

  “Dorothea Stone, why are you making trouble?”

  Silence.

  Rowan’s voice scolded. “Dorothea Stone, you come out this minute and talk to me.”

  Silence from the heights of the lighthouse. At its base, feet shuffled and voices whispered. Jasper turned his head and made a shushing motion.

  “I protect this house.”

  Everyone jumped. Giulia crowded next to Jasper and twisted her head to see up the spiral stairs. Hot breath tickled her neck. She elbowed backwards and Joel’s voice whispered, “Sorry.”

  Rowan recovered the next moment. “We are not here to harm this house.”

  “You come to defraud and despoil.”

  Rowan tsked. “You mustn’t paint us all with the same brush, Dorothea.”

  “Leave this house. Leave it. Leave it.” The hollow voice came nearer with each repetition. A bare foot appeared at the third turn above Giulia’s head. A long white skirt followed, then a vintage Van Halen concert t-shirt.

  Forty-Six

  Marion tittered.

  “A ghost with modern taste in music,” Gino said. “That’s a new one.”

  Another step and Solana’s head topped off the incongruous clothing.

  Rowan’s voice didn’t alter. “Dorothea, your host knows me. Allow her to speak to you. She will tell you my purpose here.”

  Solana/Dorothea stopped her descent. Her face turned to the group at the foot of the stairs.

  Her arm rose slowly, slowly, until one finger pointed at Giulia. “The Veiled Woman must…” Her voice faded and her eyes rolled completely back into her head.

  “Gross,” Joel whispered.

  Solana/Dorothea’s legs buckled. She fell against Rowan. Jasper caught them both, staggered, and his heel slipped on the step below.

  Giulia, Joel, and Gino made themselves into a buttress and tried to break the fall of the three psychics. Instead, all six hit the floor.

  Frank walked in from the souvenir room. “Giulia? I thought you’d be…” He gaped. “What did I miss?”

  CeCe’s phone emitted a single high beep. Giulia knew that sound: The end of an iPhone recording. Oh, joy, more YouTube hits in her future. She sighed. Nothing she could do about it.

  “Jasper, you’re squashing my legs.” She didn’t mention what the triple catch had aggravated in her already-strained arms from yesterday’s rescue.

  “Sorry, Ms. Driscoll. Aunt Rowan, can you get up?”

  “If someone removes Solana’s elbows from my ribs.”

  Frank took Solana by the upper arms and heaved.

  Rowan huffed and puffed. “Much better. You. The rich one. Help me up, please.”

  Anthony’s head swiveled left and right. When no one else moved, he stepped in front of the stairs and pulled up Rowan by her hands.

  Jasper jumped up and helped Giulia. Gino and Joel got to their feet and backed away from the psychic trio.

  Frank still held Solana in a vertical position. Rowan patted the unconscious woman’s cheeks.

  “Solana, you showoff, wake up.”

  Solana inhaled and opened her eyes.

  Gino whispered, “At least they’re not all white and demonic anymore.”

  “You watch too many horror movies,” Joel whispered.

  “Rowan.” Solana’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I thought I heard you.”

  “What are you doing?” Rowan said.

  “Dorothea had a message for me. I tried to contact her at home, but she’s tied to this place. The Stones have a strong sense of family.”

  “Don’t I know it. But Mac told you not to come back. You can’t be arrested for trespassing. It’s the wrong kind of publicity.”

  “You don’t understand. Dorothea lived in this house long before Mac. The needs of our ancestors supersede our petty mortal desires.”

  “Good point. Did you receive her message?”

  Solana’s eyes tried to retreat, but they gave it up halfway and returned to normal. “I think so. I don’t remember anything after climbing up to the Widow’s Walk to speak to her.”

  Rowan put an arm around her. “Let’s go apologize to Mac, if she hasn’t fallen asleep from the painkillers. Then I’ll guide you through a meditation to help you remember.”

  Jasper took Rowan’s other arm and they left through the lakefront door.

  “That old woman treats the inn like she owns it,” Marion said.

  Gino said, “What’s up with this ‘veiled woman’ thing?”

  Giulia didn’t have to counterfeit frustration. “The next time someone points a fingernail at me, they will be in serious danger of getting it slapped down.”

  “As long as CeCe’s there to record it,” Joel said. He joined Gino, Marion, and CeCe around CeCe’s phone.

  Giulia dragged Frank out into the sunshine. “If I hear ‘The Veiled Woman’ one more time, I am going to say something regrettable.”

  Frank kissed the top of her head. “If you do, I’ll be the one capturing it on my phone.”

  Giulia shot such a dirty look at Frank he took a step back. She walked to the edge of the grass and let the beautiful, mundane beach and lake noises slough her clean.

  Frank came over to stand with her. “Allow me to inform you of two momentous events. One, I now sit atop the fantasy leaderboard. Two, Walter owns more than one tool capable of sawing through the gallery railing.”

  She took his right arm and put it around her waist. He pulled her against his side.

  “So, Veiled Woman, what news from the Other Side?”

  She pu
mmeled his chest until he wormed a finger into that ticklish spot on her ribs.

  She squealed and gasped and flailed until he stopped, which also made her shoulders happy.

  “Cheater,” she said when her voice settled. “Rowan arrived in a purple version of Cedar’s airy layered tunics and took over the world. I barged into the carriage house and allowed her to reach the conclusion that I suspected her to be in league with Solana. She paraded me to the lighthouse, picking up all those guests on the way, and tried to contact Dorothea herself.”

  “And got our friend Solana instead?”

  “No, she got a two for one. Dorothea proclaimed vague warnings from beyond and Solana’s eyes did their disappearing trick again. That has to hurt.”

  “I miss all the fun.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “If Rowan was trying to prove their innocence, Solana missed a voicemail. Today’s show makes me suspect them even more.”

  “Mac too?”

  Her lips twisted in several different directions. “No. I waffled about her before today, but she’s not the villain of this melodrama. Here’s what I’m thinking now: What if Solana and Cedar sawed through those railings Sunday afternoon when Mac didn’t expect her to be here? The Dorothea act could be a convenient excuse to wander the inn at will and paint bloody messages and grimy footprints on the walls.”

  “And spoil an entire fridge full of food?”

  Giulia hung her head. “Stop ruining my beautiful theories.”

  “I apologize. We have too many suspects for my taste.” He took out his phone.

  “Understatement of the day. I need some serious extra research time tonight.”

  Without a word, Frank turned his screen to Giulia. Today’s Rowan/Solana/Dorothea video already had eighty-four views.

  Forty-Seven

  At nine o’clock Giulia gave up on the Stone’s Throw Wi-Fi and walked to the local coffee shop. Frank, Joel, Gino, and Roy were in the middle of a beer pong version of croquet, lit by the floodlights on the second floor overhang of the B&B.