Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2)

by Alice Loweecey

  Giulia switched the phone to her left shoulder and used her right hand to search faster. “Please give examples of nasty.”

  “The blame game. Lots of fingers pointing at everyone in charge. The treasurer didn’t watch the budget. The art director picked bad plays. The actors were hacks. The set designer built artsy sets their audiences couldn’t relate to. The backers took the operating committee to Small Claims Court, saying that they mishandled the funds and should pay all the members back out of their own pockets.”

  Giulia whistled. “Did they win?”

  “Yes. The judge lectured everyone about not having enough business sense and not knowing their audience. They did something called Rhinoceros with puppets. Jane says it’s like the poster child for French avant-garde. Nazi rhinos, for real. She said her ex started snoring during the second act when she took him to see it.”

  “Wait a second, Sidney,” Zane said. “Ms. D., there’s an item on Walter’s credit report about a theater. I’m reading…Mac is MacAllister Stone, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Walter was involved with that same theater group. It doesn’t say how, but maybe he’s an actor?”

  Giulia gripped the phone with her good hand and held her breath as though breathing would jinx whatever this was. “I can’t picture him on a stage. He used to be middle management at sales places, so maybe he did their advertising and marketing.”

  “Sure. Either way, because Mac and the other backers won their claim, she’s listed as one of his creditors.”

  “That must make Thanksgiving dinners awkward.”

  Sidney said, “Wait, they’re related? Does that make this Walter guy the fake ghost?”

  “An hour ago, I would’ve said he didn’t have the skill or the determination, but now that I know he’s been in contact with Lady Solana of the Ouija board, I’m revising my opinion. Thanks, guys.”

  She ran around the house out to the patio and saw Frank’s ginger head emerge from the water. She put two fingers into the corners of her mouth and whistled.

  Ten heads turned in her direction, including Frank’s. He waved and swam in.

  When he reached her, toweling his chest as he walked, she said, “If you drown from cramps because you went swimming right after breakfast, Saint Peter will clock you over the head with the Book of Life.”

  “And you’ll be an eligible widow.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Thank you, no. I’d like to enjoy marriage for a few decades. Listen to what my exceptional staff found out.” She told Frank about the credit reports, the defunct theater company, and the connection between Solana and Walter.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it’s like a soap opera.”

  “Come down to the boat dock with me, please? I’m not sure yet what to say to Walter, but something will ping in my head to make him spill.”

  “I repeat: A confident woman is incredibly sexy.” He avoided her butt swat. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

  Giulia didn’t have to think of the perfect leading question after all. When they reached the boat dock, all the windows were boarded up. Two sets of adults and five kids were clustered around the door, chattering.

  A printed notice in big black letters on white paper was stapled to the door.

  “BANK-OWNED PROPERTY,” it read, followed by a long paragraph about foreclosure citing several laws and subsections of laws, and at the bottom, “KEEP OUT.” An industrial-sized padlock secured the door to the doorjamb.

  “Dad, I wanna go fishing,” a young boy said.

  “Ma, me too,” a young girl said, pulling on a brunette’s skirted bathing suit. “Dad promised.”

  Giulia tapped the shoulder of a woman in shorts and a tank top. “Does anyone know what happened?”

  “It was cool,” an older boy said. “This black Lincoln drove up and two guys in suits got out. They knocked on the door and the boat guy opened it looking seriously shit-faced.”

  “Edward, language,” the brunette said.

  Edward ignored her. “They said he had fifteen minutes to get out and that they would inspect anything he took with him.” A delighted grin appeared on Edward’s face. “He cursed them out like he was on an HBO special.”

  A girl with short blonde braids and a fluorescent bikini said, “The guy in the black suit held up his watch so the boat guy could see it and the boat guy slammed the door in their faces. Then we heard banging and slamming and the boat guy and his girlfriend yelling at each other. The guy in the blue suit went back to their car and came back with a toolbox. Ma said their suits were, like, super cheap ones, didn’t you, Ma? And the blue suit guy took out a drill and started drilling holes in the wall next to the door.”

  Edward said over her last words, “When the drill guy finished, the other guy yelled up into the open window there, ‘You’ve got five minutes.’” He pointed to the upper floor of the shop.

  “No he didn’t,” Blonde Braids said. “He was, like, super polite. He said, ‘Five minutes left, Mr. Sattling,’ or Saddler, or whatever.”

  “Who cares?” Edward said. “The blue suit guy brought out that gonzo padlock right when the boat guy and his girlfriend came out with two big suitcases. The boat guy tried to shove the suit guys out of his way, but they grabbed the suitcases and opened them up right here on the dock. We saw his girlfriend’s underwear and everything.”

  “Guys are so gross,” Blonde Braids said. “I think it’s sad they had to pack up all their stuff so fast. What if they forgot something important?”

  The tall man next to Edward said, “Then they should have saved their money and paid their bills on time. Remember that the next time you whine about mowing the lawn for five bucks.” He poked Edward’s arm.

  Edward rolled his eyes at Giulia. “So anyway, the suit guys dumped the suitcases on the dock and shook out everything, even the underwear. Then they told the boat guy he could pack it all up and made him hand over his keys. Man, I was sure he was gonna deck both of the suit guys.”

  A younger boy said, “I heard one of the suit guys talking into his phone to somebody about getting ready to call the police. But nothing happened.”

  Disappointment filled his voice and face.

  Blonde Braids said, “So the boat guy’s girlfriend shoved everything back into the suitcases and they walked toward the street.” She pointed. “People just stopped everything and watched them fight. She yelled at him about the mess he made of her clothes and he told her to shut the—” She glanced over at the woman in the tank top and revised. “He told her to shut up and get back to washing dishes because it’s all she’s good for. She heaved the suitcase right at his head. It was epic. It busted open and her stuff fell out and she turned her back on him and walked that way.” She pointed back the way Giulia and Frank had come. “She left all her stuff there, right in the middle of the sidewalk.”

  “He picked it up for her,” Edward said in a superior voice. “I bet his girlfriend dumps him because they’ve got no place to live. Who cares about her old stuff? Girls are so stupid about clothes.”

  “Boys are stupid about everything.” Blonde Braids stuck out her tongue.

  “You’re just a dumb—”

  Edward’s father cuffed the back of his head. “I don’t care what you heard today, young man. You will not repeat any of it.”

  The woman in the tank top took the hand of a small girl in a bright pink one-piece and beckoned to Blonde Braids. “We’ll go back to the hotel and ask if there are other places to rent boats.”

  Edward stopped trying to surreptitiously rub his head. “Can we do that too, Dad? Can we?”

  “Sure. Let’s go exploring.” He walked away, followed by Edward, the younger boy, and a teenage girl who’d been texting during the entire conversation.

  Giulia stared out at the water for
maybe half a minute. When she turned back toward land and Frank, she was already moving.

  “You go look for Walter, okay? Are any bars open at this hour? No, of course not. The library or a coffee shop, then. Any place that will have a newspaper or tabloid with apartment listings for the customers to read. I’m heading back to Stone’s Throw to talk to Lucy.”

  Frank followed her for a few steps. “Why her?”

  “Washing dishes.”

  Frank kept after her. “I’m not stupid, but what connection did you make? Lots of places have dishwashers.”

  “Not dishwashers who worked in theater and are the housekeeper for one of their boyfriend’s creditors. Go, Frank.”

  Forty-Nine

  The house was empty of guests. Even the animals weren’t in their usual spots on the porch. Giulia knocked on the carriage house door, but it was locked.

  Neither Mac nor Rowan nor Jasper answered the doorbell or her repeated calls up to the open window. She backed up far enough to see the entire parking area. A Jeep was missing. Rowan and Jasper must’ve returned to Cottonwood after breakfast to run their own business.

  She ran back up the porch steps. There were the cats, pretzeled together under one of the wicker chairs. Tweedledee hissed at her.

  No Mac in the office; no one in the kitchen. No Lucy in the second- or third-floor bedrooms. Giulia stopped at the top of the first flight of stairs to catch her breath and strategize.

  A whimper. Faint. Giulia leaped down the stairs and used the newel at the bottom as leverage to careen around the corner toward the lighthouse.

  But it wasn’t Mac fallen at the foot of the stairs. Jabberwocky the beagle lay there in a crumpled heap, blood matting his brown and white coat. He looked up at her with watery eyes and whimpered again.

  “What happened to you, boy? Never mind; you can’t answer me. Listen, Jabber, I have to find Mac. She’ll know the vet’s number.”

  The beagle’s tail gave a weak thump.

  “The fucking bank foreclosed on us this morning. They took everything, and it’s all your fault.” Lucy’s voice above her, but muted. Out on the Widow’s Walk; must be.

  Giulia ducked under the spiral staircase and peered up through its central opening.

  Nothing, again.

  This “nothing” business was getting on her nerves. She put a foot on the bottom step and climbed as silently as though she was sneaking up on that phosphorescent clown doll.

  “We want what’s coming to us, dear Auntie.”

  Clearer now. Even angry, Lucy supported her voice with her diaphragm like a well-trained actor.

  “It’s not my fault Walter can’t keep to a budget or retain customers.” Her sentence ended in a sharp cry.

  “Why didn’t you take the easy way out, you old bitch? You’re so into that psychic crap you should’ve turned tail and ran a week ago.”

  Giulia reached the catwalk around the light. She raised the top of her head and peeked over the edge with one eye.

  Lucy kept ranting, her thin legs pacing two steps left, two steps right and back again. “The gas leak and the fire would’ve scared off anyone with half a brain. But no, I had to keep playing the supernatural game and put up with spoiled food in our apartment for two whole weeks. After I moved it into your fridge even that damn fish air smelled good.”

  Another set of legs was visible on the gallery outside, the feet in deck shoes without socks. That meant Walter was up there too, and Mac was probably cornered against the railing. The mostly sawed-through railing. And Giulia had sent Frank away on a useless hunt.

  “Shut up, Luce.” Walter, whining. “Tell us where you hid the gold, Aunt Mac.”

  Mac’s voice came steady, but weaker than usual. “There is no gold. Great-Grandpa made up that story to entertain us kids.”

  “No!” A thump and another cry from Mac.

  “Walter, you useless turd.” Lucy’s voice, speaking the way Giulia expected her to sound when she dropped her helpful face. “Your idea of supernatural terror wouldn’t scare a roomful of brats at a Chuck E. Cheese’s. I should’ve ignored everything you said to try. My old theater company would’ve haunted this place empty in a week and MacAllister Stone the Great Hotel Keeper would have had to bring out the gold to keep the bank from foreclosing. Just like you should’ve been able to do if you were a real man.”

  Giulia slid onto the catwalk butt-first to avoid anything like the sound of a footstep. From that angle she could see Mac’s legs. Lucy and Walter were between Giulia and Mac, but they weren’t blocking the doorway to the gallery.

  Okay. She could slip sideways through the opening behind those two. The odds of achieving that without Walter or Lucy hearing her: Slim to none.

  The odds didn’t matter. She started creeping around the catwalk to the right, as Lucy and Walter were both angled slightly to the left.

  “This is how it is, Mac,” Lucy said. “Marrying your nephew might have been one of my stupider decisions, but I’m going to drag him up with me, not the other way around. No self-important bank manager is going to take my things ever again. Since you didn’t die like you were supposed to three damn times already and leave your family treasure to us, you’re going to tell us where you hid it. My ball and chain here is going to get his feeble hands dirty digging it up, and then we’re taking it. I suggest you play nice, or I won’t stop him from bashing in your turkey-wattled throat.”

  Giulia reached the doorway. Walter and Lucy faced three-quarters away from her.

  Mac faced her full-on. A dark bruise discolored Mac’s left cheek. Blood dripped from her swollen mouth.

  She looked alert and furious, but not frightened. Impressive, since Walter hefted some kind of wrench discolored with blood. From the size of the wrench, Giulia expected Mac’s teeth to be embedded in it.

  Walter moved closer to Mac. “Don’t be stupid. Tell us where you hid the gold.”

  Mac opened her swollen mouth and winced, but that was all. “Walter, for the last time, there is no secret pile of stolen gold coins.”

  “Bullshit. Great-uncle Luke showed me a piece of it when I was ten.”

  Mac shook her head and regretted it, from the look on her face. “He showed it to me too. He got it at an antique shop. I found the receipt.”

  “You lying bitch!” Walter swung the wrench, but Lucy blocked it.

  “Sweetheart, you’re not thinking.” Her voice dripped corroded honey. “Auntie Mac is playing a long game. She’s hoping someone will hear us talking and come see who’s up here. She forgot that she told her guests the lighthouse was off-limits. All those lazy morons are off playing tourist. It’s just Auntie Mac and her loving niece and nephew. And her loving niece has a year of menial labor to pay her back for.”

  Giulia got to her feet during this speech, moving in slow motion. When she finished, she stood in the open doorway an arm’s length away from Walter and Lucy.

  “You’re freaky, Luce.”

  “You’re not used to women with brains, Walter. I sure as hell wouldn’t have screwed up the boat business and lost everything.”

  Walter gripped the wrench tighter. “You’re a ball-buster, too.”

  “I’m confident. There’s a difference. I want a real home and no debts and my very own children’s theater, and I’m going to do it with your family’s lovely gold. You’d know that if you’d ever listened to me instead of treating me like your other bimbos.”

  “Christ, shut up.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Someday I’ll figure out what I saw in you.” Her voice was rueful. “Oh, I remember. You told me about the Stone family gold when you got drunk on our first date. Which reminds me—” She grabbed Mac’s dislocated arm and yanked her up so they were face to face. Over Mac’s cry of pain, Lucy said, “Tell me where you hid it. Now.”

 
Giulia lunged out of the door and grabbed the wrench from Walter’s hand. Walter said “Hey!” and tried to grab it back. Lucy dropped Mac’s arm and dived at Giulia. Mac stumbled out of the way. Giulia dodged Lucy’s attack and tripped Walter as he made another snatch at the wrench. Walter fell against Lucy. Lucy overbalanced and crashed into one of the sawed-through railings. The railing cracked apart. Lucy’s momentum took her through the broken wood and off the Widow’s Walk. At the same moment, Frank leaped through the opening and tackled Walter. A wet thud cut off Lucy’s scream.

  “Lucy! Lucy!” Walter shouted his wife’s name over and over.

  Giulia dropped the wrench and went to help Mac. Frank dragged Walter back through the opening and onto the catwalk. Giulia got Mac onto her feet and blocked her view of the patio as she walked her through the doorway to the catwalk.

  Frank wrestled Walter down the spiral stairs, Walter sobbing and struggling and running through a limited repertoire of curses. They banged and crashed all the way down.

  Mac didn’t say a word as Giulia eased her downstairs. Mac’s good arm supported her dislocated one, but she winced with every step. When they reached the bottom, Giulia took out her phone to call 911, but heard the first siren before she input her password.

  “Come on, Mac. We have to go out to the patio. The police are coming.”

  Mac said nothing, but didn’t resist Giulia as she led her past the suit of armor and outside. Several adults in bathing suits crowded together on the grass at the far edge of the patio. Two more adults herded a handful of children away from the scene. The siren got louder. Another siren joined it.

  Five feet away from the crowd, Gino lost his breakfast on the grass. Joel knelt next to him, pale and with closed eyes. Marion pushed through the crowd. When she reached the front of it she fainted in the best Method Acting tradition. A woman in madras plaid shorts and a tank top stepped over her for a better look at Lucy’s body.