Nun the Wiser (A Deadly Habit Cozy Mystery Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter 7
.

“Rose, you’re killing me!” Gemma gave a dramatic groan through the phone. “Killing me! I’m going to lay right here on the couch and croak — you’re too much.”

I listened to Gemma as she continued to lament her own passing, complete with a rather strange funeral arrangement. Then afterward she was going to come back and haunt me for good measure.

“Gemma, you’re making it sound like I held them up at gun point,” I finally said when I could get a word in. I could practically see Gemma through the phone, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and mouthing a rant at it, her hair bouncing as she paced her living room in her overly high heels.

“Do you know how many legal cases I work with on people photographing other people’s property?” Gemma gave another dramatic groan. “You and this fellow are both really tip-toeing that line. You go flying over the city with the hottest man in town. People would kill to have a boyfriend take them on a private flight, you know. And you two obsess over work, and at that, just three hairs shy of stalking-type work. I hope he’s finally taking you out to dinner.”

“Actually —” I gazed over at the pan simmering on the oven, and gave it a quick stir. “He’s coming over to show me the pictures. We’re going to eat together while we look them over.”

I pulled my ear away from the phone as I listened to a high pitched, gleeful squeal from my friend. Both cats even stopped their tussling, their ears perked as they tried to figure out what the noise was. All at once Bernard seemed to remember that he had decided not to get along with Sasha. He swiped at her and darted under the table, only to have her prance after him.

“Are you serious?” Gemma demanded. “You two are finally having dinner together?”

“Sort of.” I stirred the dinner again.

“And — it’s a business type thing? Rose, what am I going to do with you?” Gemma sighed loudly and dramatically. “But it’s a start! What are you making? Those rosemary noodles?”

“Actually, I’m making vegetarian Thai green curry.” I said as I lowered the temperature on the pan.

“Thai green curry? The man is so hot he should be illegal. You have walked all over town together. You faced a murder mystery and cross-dressing nuns together. He took you on a private flight over the town in a helicopter. You finally get him home, and you’re using your amazing cooking skills to make Thai green curry?”

“He said he likes Thai green curry.” I bit my bottom lip uncertainly. I hadn’t wanted to make it awkward by working on anything too elaborate. Maybe Gemma had a point. I had been hesitant to call for second opinions. Gemma, as expected, wanted me to prepare a four course meal. And the last time I asked Janet for dessert advice, she lectured me on the evils of sugar and fructans. I didn’t want to live through that lecture again.

I checked the clock. No time to have something ordered. I’d have to roll with it.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Gemma mumbled dramatically. “Ah well, it’s a start. At least you’re learning his food preferences, to look on the bright side. But why Thai green curry, though?”

“Well, he said he liked it,” I said defensively. “I already told you that.” What on earth was wrong with Thai green curry anyway? I thought it was a good idea — well, I had. Now I wasn’t so sure. Now I was even more nervous than ever.

There was silence for a moment, and then Gemma spoke again. “So, when is he going to show up?”

“In about ten or fifteen minutes.”

“You’re dressed to knock him dead, right? That cute little cocktail dress you never wear? Please say you aren’t in sweatpants just ‘cause it’s a casual thing? There is such a thing as too casual.”

“No! I’m not in sweat pants. What do you take me for?” I glanced down at my black slacks with worry. Too plain?

Gemma groaned again. “Honey, we have got to get you some practice, before you get stuck with some man living in his mama’s basement, or end up like Janet and marrying some overgrown Ken doll on steroids.”

“Gemma!” I frowned at Gemma and then realized she couldn’t see me. I really was stressed.

“We’re all thinking it. No human body should look like that — it isn’t natural. God made us to have pot bellies and muffin tops, not bowling ball sized biceps. My proof? They don’t do anything with those things! When was the last time you saw a body builder save someone from a burning building? Do construction? Bale hay? No farmer looks like that, and they do more physical labor than most. That muscle-bound stuff is unnatural!”

I sighed and let Gemma get her latest rant about slanted body images out of her system while I turned my attention to the table. At least Gemma had changed the subject from my lack of prowess with men.

Sasha hopped up on a chair and looked at me questioningly, pawing at my hand to insist on special attention. I gave her an ear scratch while waiting for Gemma to breathe long enough so I could interject. Gemma had a talent for being able to talk without pausing to breathe. I figured it was from long practice in the courtroom.

There was a knock at the door and I was sure my heart stopped for a second. My eyes darted at the time. Was that him? He was early! Oh no! Table? Clothes? Food? Any clutter left out earlier? “He’s here, good bye! Send me good vibes,” I hissed urgently into the phone as I hung up.

I opened the door to see Adam, his work-bag slung over his shoulder. He brandished an enormous box of expensive-looking chocolates with that gloriously handsome grin of his.

“I didn’t want to come empty handed,” he said as he handed me the box.

“Thanks so much,” I gushed.

“No problem.” Adam was doing his best to appear nonchalant, but I could tell he was pleased that I was thrilled with the chocolates.

An irrational wave of panic shot through me as I let him into my apartment. My eyes darted here and there to make sure everything was picked up while Adam scanned the area with apparent interest. There was nothing that could be a problem apart from the two cats. Bernard was glaring at me suspiciously, no doubt wondering if I was going to put him in the laundry room. Sasha darted over to check out the new company. She purred loudly as she wove between Adam’s legs, rubbing against his ankles. Bernard looked on in disgust.

Adam made the mistake of leaning over to pet her. He now had a furry stalker friend for life. Sasha purred loudly as she proceeded to try to climb up his leg. Before he knew what was happening, he had a chocolate Burmese cat lounging in his arm, the perfect picture of contentment.

“She’s friendly, huh?” Adam laughed as he stroked the insistent cat.

“Seems that way.” I had to smile as Sasha decided that the human was to pet her and pay her attention. If only humans could deal with their feelings in such a straightforward manner. I drifted off into a quick fantasy about purring and trying to sit on Adam’s knee. Nope. He’d likely run out and get a restraining order. Cats had an enviable life.

“I’m glad you invited me over,” Adam said after some small talk. “It feels like we’ve really gotten to know one another well lately. I would invite you over to my cottage, but I need to find a more long-term place to stay first.”

He looked sincerely sad that he hadn’t invited me over. I thought the sheepish smile looked adorable on him.

“It’s fine! I’m sure you’re glad not to be staring at the same four walls for a little bit.” I smiled, glancing at Sasha, who had draped herself happily across Adam’s feet.

“I’m in great company,” he agreed, as he gently nudged Sasha, sending the cat into a stretch and a contented purr. He reached over to his bag and pulled out the envelope. “I had the images blown up and printed. I didn’t see anything at a glance, but hopefully between us something will catch our eyes.”

“Right.” I cleared away the plates to one side and scooted closer. I tried to keep my mind on the pictures and not on the fact that our shoulders were almost touching. It had been such a long week that it was hard not to take Sasha’s example and lean on him for just a moment.

I stared at one picture after another, remembering the flight as I stared at the buildings and walkways. It was disturbing to think of how familiar the convent was starting to become to me.

Unfortunately, there was nothing of interest in the pictures. Absolutely nothing. Not even a broom was out of place. There were no strange boxes, no recently dug garden plots. What were we looking for anyway?

Whatever it was I wanted to see, it wasn’t there. There was nothing but plants, a fountain, some walkways and other assorted bits of Gothic architecture. There was nothing suspicious about it at all. Judging by Adam’s frustrated expression as he carefully studied the pages, he was running into the same problem.

After we carefully poured through the images for some time, I sighed and tapped my stack into a neat pile. “They’re all starting to look the same. I’ve got nothing. You?”

“Same here,” Adam said as he leaned back in his chair and stretched with a light groan. “I hate to say it, but if there’s anything odd about the place, they aren’t keeping it out in the open.”

“Well, that was a waste of time,” I said, setting the pictures down.

“Not really,” Adam said with a quirked smile. “I got to spend some time with you, and I’ve been craving some real home cooking that wasn’t out of a restaurant for a couple months now. And like I said —” He leaned over slightly, pressing our shoulders together gently as he turned to look in my eyes.

There was something warm there, tender even. It made my heart race.

“Rose! Are you home?”

I jumped in alarm at the screeching voice, sending the papers to the floor and startling poor Sasha into a short dash to the couch for safety. Adam and I quickly scooted to a polite distance as we both looked toward the door, which to my shock suddenly opened a crack.

Bunny’s head peeked around it. She was smiling widely. “Sorry! Your door was unlocked so I invited myself in. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“Hi, Bunny,” I said. Talk about timing! “Did you need something?”

“I locked my keys in the store again. Could I borrow the spare set I left with you —” Bunny froze, her eyes bulging wide in horror at the sight of Sasha, who was standing in the middle of the floor purring, her tail swishing happily in greeting.

“Meow,” she said, and moved toward Bunny.

Bunny let out a blood curdling scream. Sasha stopped and fluffed up in alarm. There was a loud slam as Bunny jumped away from the door, leaving it wide open. As Bunny turned and ran, Sasha ran after her.

“Bunny!” I called, as I gathered my wits. I lunged for the fleeing Sasha as she bounded for the door, determined to catch up to the loud screaming woman. “Sasha, kitty, kitty! Sasha, no!”

I managed to grab Sasha before she got to the door. I handed her to Adam, grabbed Bunny’s spare key, and ran after her.

Chapter 8.

The doorbell was more of a buzzer in my apartment. Whenever someone pressed the small white button that sat in between my apartment door downstairs and the door to my shop, a white box that sat on my living room wall buzzed audibly and annoyingly.

When it went off, I was in bed. It was Tuesday, the one day of the week I had planned not to open the shop. I normally stayed closed on Sunday, but the festival the last weekend had a lot of foot traffic along the main street and I couldn’t have afforded to miss the customers.

I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. I was going to ignore the bell, and hope whoever was at my door went away, but when the bell rang again, I figured I had better at least see who it was. I climbed out of bed and crept to the living room. I could look out one of the windows there and see straight down to my door if I craned my neck forward far enough.

A cop car was parked at the curb, and the larger of the two town officers was standing there, holding his beefy finger to the button. I sighed. I never enjoyed a meeting with either of the two cops.

Still, he was an officer of the law, and I didn’t think I could hide from him. It would be better to get whatever he wanted over with. I hurried to my room and pulled on jeans and a tee shirt. I then went to the front door, hurrying down the narrow staircase.

When I pulled open the door, the cop had turned around, apparently giving up. He was halfway back to his car when he turned.

“Hello, Ms. Tyler,” the cop said.

“It’s Taylor,” I said, for the umpteenth time. How could he catch crooks when he couldn’t even get my name straight?

“Mind if I come in?”

“Sure.” I stepped back to allow him to pass me.

“Have you just woken up?” Sergeant Barnes asked in an accusing tone. He checked his watch. “It’s almost ten.”

“It’s my day off,” I said, suppressing the desire to go ahead and shut the door in his face.

The cop just shrugged and stepped inside. He followed me into the back room behind the shop.

“Have a seat,” I said, waving my hand toward the couch. “Mind if I make coffee? I get a caffeine deficient headache if I don’t get some into me quick, as soon as I wake up.” I realized I was babbling, but I didn’t care. I switched on the coffee machine before he answered.

I turned back to him, leaning against the countertop, while inhaling the heavenly aroma of the coffee. “What’s going on?”

“Well, the family, Mrs. Sutton’s family, they’re really pushing us to find the perpetrator.”

I nodded. “I thought you said it was a fall down the stairs?”

“Well, that’s what it looked like to me at first, but the family said otherwise. I guess you know about the husband who died some time back?”

I nodded. Mrs. Sutton’s husband had been a famous player in AFL way back in the early days. He was still talked about these days. His name had been Bert Sutton, and he had made quite a name for himself, having played for twelve years.

“Well this has gotten out a bit. The family doesn’t live around here, not anymore. They all moved to Victoria when they got old enough, the kids and that, but the story of Mrs. Sutton being found dead has been picked up. Sports blogs and all that,” Barnes said with obvious distaste. “I don’t go for the internet much, but this thing is picking up steam, and we’re getting pressured on both sides. There’s only two of us here, you know.”

“Where is your partner?” I asked as I poured coffee into my cup. “Would you like some coffee?”

Barnes shook his head and screwed up his nose. “He’s working on another lead.”

I sat opposite him, holding my mug in two hands, watching the soft winding line of steam rising from the hot liquid.

“I’m just doing some follow up. Some questions.”

I nodded.

“You were going to see Mrs. Sutton about some antiques?”

“Not antiques as such,” I said. “Second hand furniture.”

“But she called you, and mentioned something?”

“About the nuns,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t like that answer.

Barnes sighed, and ran a finger through his mustache. Nevertheless, he didn’t respond, but nodded and wrote down something on the small pad of paper he had resting on his knee. “Right, anything else?”

“I went over and she was dead. The front door was locked; the back door wasn’t. I went in and found her by the back door, holding Rosary beads.”

“And she wasn’t Catholic, you said?”

“No,” I said. “Definitely not. She was Protestant. She always used to go to the church opposite the vet clinic on the main road.”

The cop nodded and wrote some more. “Well, I gotta say, we got some prints there, and we took yours so we didn’t spend any time going after you, and we found some of yours there, on the back door and stuff, but we found a partial print on the Rosary beads, that didn’t belong to you or Mrs. Sutton. Now of course it could have been someone else, from before the death.”

“The murderer?”

Barnes narrowed his eyes. “I’m not convinced of that, yet. I’m just trying to cover all of the bases,” he said. “But there was a partial fingerprint, and we ended up getting what could be a match. It’s hard to tell without the whole thing, and so far we haven’t found any more of these prints there to pull a whole one, but we got a seventy something percent match from a lab in Sydney.”

“Whose is it?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

“Slim Eddie,” he said, “or so he’s known.”

My mouth fell open. I knew the name. Slim Eddie was one of the members of the Shadow Gang.

“You know him?” Barnes asked, fixing me with a glare.

“Of course — you know what I’ve been telling you about these nuns around here.”

Barnes held up his beefy hand. “I don’t want to hear about it — I know your complaints. I just thought I would share that with you.”

I was puzzled. “Why are you telling me any of this?”

“Well, I know you felt like something was going on, and as we’re looking into it, it’s turning out that you might be right.”

I was surprised by his admission. “Have you found anything else?”

Barnes hesitated for a minute, as if he were weighing up how much he should tell me. I was a civilian after all. “Did you go into the basement, or the barn for any reason?”

I didn’t even pause. I wouldn’t tell him Adam and I had gone back later that night. “No,” I lied.

“Well, we found evidence that someone was in both. We found some small windows open. I sure couldn’t ever fit into them, but someone else — someone your size, or maybe even a little bigger, could.”

I wasn’t sure if he was insinuating anything. I wanted to know if he had found the black cloth on the rose thorn, but I knew I couldn’t ask that.

The cop continued. “And, you know, the barn, well, there were some boot prints in a muddy corner. It looked like the mud there had been disturbed, maybe dug up. We’re trying to pull some prints there, too, but it’s a mess.”

“I know. I’ve been in the barn, but Mrs. Sutton never let me go through it. But yeah, it’s a mess,” I agreed.

The cop took a moment and then stood. “In any case, I just need to ask you to stick around town. You didn’t have any plans to leave, did you? No vacations coming up?”

I stood as well. “No.”

“All right.”

“Sergeant Barnes, am I a suspect?” My heart was in my mouth.

The cop paused for a moment and then he shrugged. “Person of interest, I guess. You found the body. And like I said, if someone came in through the windows, there was a window there that wasn’t quite shut, but if someone had to go in that way, it was someone small. I don’t know many men who could fit.”

“There are plenty of small men,” I said. “Slim Eddie is a small man, hence his name. Skinny and short.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“I think a band of famous bank robbers are living under our noses posing as women. You better believe I’ve done my homework.”

The cop was going to say something, but he didn’t. He smiled thinly and nodded, placing a finger or two on the brim of his hat. “Thanks for your time.”

“Of course,” I said. I followed the police officer downstairs and shut and locked my door behind him. I climbed up the stairs and peered out the living room window, watching as the cop sat in his car for a few moments before cranking the engine and driving off.

I returned to the back room and poured more coffee into my mug. I sipped slowly as I thought.

I was shaken to be a suspect — or rather, a ‘person of interest’ as the cop had called it.

I thought of Slim Eddie. It wasn’t a complete match of course, but it had been enough to have him ding in the system. It had to be him. I had seen him before, the small man in a habit, posing as a woman. If anything, he was the most successful at it. The other guys were too big, too broad, too manly. Slim Eddie was somewhat feminine. He was pulling off the disguise wonderfully.

I washed my cup and then went back to my bedroom. I was surprised to see I had a missed call from Adam. I called him straight back.

“What are you doing Sunday?” he said by way of greeting.

“Nothing much, why?”

“I have an idea.”

I took a deep breath. I knew I was about to get into some trouble on Sunday.