Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2) (11 page)

Twenty-Two

At least three hours had passed and Frank was asleep next to Giulia’s piles of paper on the bed when shrieks filled the hall on the other side of their closed door. Giulia reached it first and yanked it open. The shrieks quadrupled in volume.

Marion stood on the polished hall floor covered only with a bath towel.

Brown goo oozed down her hair and glopped onto her shoulders. Tendrils of gunk stretched thinner and thinner as they dripped onto her chest and rolled off toward her feet.

“Mac! Oh my God! Mac, where are you?”

The gunk oozed onto her cheek. Marion opened her mouth again and a tendril ran into it. Her resulting shrieks threatened to shatter the stained glass window.

Anthony came out of the room behind her, towel in hand. Marion swatted it away.

CeCe and Roy, in matching bathing suits, stood on the stairs to the third floor, open-mouthed. Mac and Matthew the handyman, whose face mimicked Grumpy Cat in human form, pounded up the stairs from the first floor. Both of them stopped and stared for a few seconds.

Marion’s latest screech cut off in the middle and the eerier noise of groaning pipes replaced it. She flung out her arms at Mac and the bath towel slipped. Anthony grabbed it in time to prevent a wardrobe malfunction.

“It’s coming out of the shower.” Marion’s voice acquired the tones of a supervisor chastising an underling.

Mac deflected her guest’s wrath with action. “Matthew, the shower.”

Grumpy Cat clomped into the room and the pipes stopped moaning a moment later.

Giulia came forward and touched Marion’s shoulder. “Would you like to use our shower while yours is being fixed?”

More brown gunk hit Marion’s shoulders. She shuddered. “Thank you. Yes, I would very much like to use a shower that works.”

Mac’s expression said she was calculating the odds the couple would cancel their stay and demand a refund. Giulia led Marion past Frank into their room.

“Honey, could you maybe go check out boat rentals for tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He headed downstairs.

“Mac,” Giulia said, “may we have a few extra towels?”

“Of course.” Mac turned to Anthony. “Can I offer you some lemonade or iced coffee while your room is being attended to?”

He called after his wife, “Honey, I’ll take your purse with me,” returned to the room and came out with a tasteful white leather bag. “Iced coffee, thanks, Mac.”

Giulia repacked all the papers and sat in the room’s single chair, reading the latest issue of
Cosmo
. More clomping and pipes banging came through from the hall. When the shower stopped, she turned on her phone’s voice memo function and slipped the phone into the front pocket of her capris.

Marion came out of the bathroom, hair plastered to her head and wrapped in clean towels.

“I used both of your bath towels. I’m sorry.”

Giulia put down the magazine and stood. “That’s quite all right. Mac is bringing up some more.”

“Thank you for the use of your shower. I’ve never been so disgusted in my life.” Her voice had reverted to its usual sophistication now that she wasn’t imitating an angry crow. “Now that your husband’s arrived, do you have plans for dinner?”

“Not yet. We’ve been celebrating our first day by taking a nap.”

“Why don’t you come to dinner with us? The Oyster Shuck caters to the boating crowd. The owner knows us well.”

“We’d be happy to. I’ll track down Frank and meet you…downstairs?”

“Excellent. I’ll be only fifteen minutes. I need more than one martini tonight.”

Giulia erased the unprofitable voice memo and went in search of Frank. She found him practicing bocce on the restored court.

“You’re letting your wrist snap too much on release,” she said.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Giulia stepped into the long, rectangular bocce pit and picked up a ball. “Like this.” She raised the ball in both hands and sighted along them for the
pallino
, cocked her right arm back, and half-threw, half-rolled the ball off her hand, following through with her entire arm aligned. The larger ball stopped three inches to the right of the tiny target ball.

“Bah. I’m out of practice.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you call that out of practice? Let’s find someplace to eat so I can drown my athlete’s sorrows.”

“We already have dinner plans. Marion invited us to dine with them at the restaurant all the boating people patronize. They know the owner.”

Frank stepped onto the grass. “Dine, huh? Guess they don’t serve regular old fried fish and beer at this joint?”

“Oh, but of course. Overpriced imported beer and panko-crusted trout with truffle sauce.”

The waiter seated Frank, Giulia, Marion, and Anthony, and handed them menus. Giulia opened hers to the clipped-in paper with today’s specials and almost lost it when she read the top one: Panko-encrusted smallmouth bass with a Guinness reduction.

“Giulia, I forgot what business you said you were in,” Marion said after she’d partaken of the life-giving elixir called martini.

“I manage a coffee shop.” Giulia sipped a Guinness.

“Oh, how nice. Do you have much employee turnover? Anthony has such a difficult time finding a manager whom he can trust to keep the workers in line.”

Giulia put on Polite Smile Number Three. Marion had slotted her into a lower social sphere, which was fine with Giulia. Whenever people considered Giulia beneath themselves, she took it as a gift. People didn’t bother to censor their discussions around the lower classes.

“Our turnover isn’t too bad. It’s worst when college starts up every August.”

Anthony and Frank were talking network configurations over Coronas. Like at the boat dock earlier, Frank once again proved himself the perfect partner. He ranked Corona a notch above “lite” beers; in other words, only to be consumed under extreme duress. Yet here he was, using it to bond with a possible suspect to pump information.

Marion patronized Giulia as they ate panko-encrusted bass. Giulia asked her advice on hiring high school seniors versus college students. Marion instructed. Giulia splashed hot sauce on her hand-cut fries. Marion’s expression patted Giulia on the head for her plebian tastes.

Giulia struck. “Thank you for recommending this restaurant. The food is excellent.”

“We eat here at least twice every time we stay at the Stone’s Throw. This is your first time, you said?”

“Yes. We’re both so busy we had to find a place on short notice. We seem to have chosen well.”

Marion finished her second martini and signaled for another. “This is our fourth year. Stone’s Throw is our exception. We stay at Westin resorts as a rule.”

The martini arrived along with the dessert menu. Giulia nudged Frank. “Split a brownie sundae with me?”

“I’m ready to do my duty as a husband.” He ordered coffee for both of them.

Marion ordered strawberry shortcake and a small kirsch. Anthony chose coffee and brandy. Giulia hadn’t felt this bourgeois in years. No, in ever.

“Stone’s Throw is roughing it,” Anthony said, “but it’s also research. There’s money in a bed and breakfast if the location is right. The historic value and the personal touches are what we’re looking for.”

Dessert arrived. Marion poured the kirsch over her shortcake. “A chef who wants to be away from the pressure of a four- or five-star restaurant or a recent graduate of a good school is necessary.”

Giulia swallowed a mouthful of brownie, ice cream, and real whipped cream. “So you’re not looking to run a B&B yourself?”

“Oh, no. I don’t cook.”

She sure drank, though. Three martinis and one liqueur and not a slur in her voice. Giulia’s limit was two beers.

Anthony sipped his brandy. “We’ve recommended Stone’s Throw to several friends. No one’s been disappointed. Frank, tell me more about using terminals instead of separate towers.”

The couples split after dinner. Marion and Anthony had an appointment with a local artist whose lake views Anthony was considering for one of his offices. Frank took Giulia by the arm in a proper protective manner and turned toward the beach.

“My cheeks ache from keeping up that empty smile,” Giulia said after a few minutes when they’d walked far in the opposite direction.

“That coffee didn’t wash out the taste of Corona.” Frank squeezed Giulia. “I haven’t seen you work for quite a while. I rather enjoy you as a Stepford Wife.”

She shuddered. “That’s the scariest movie ever made.”

“Still, good call on letting her patronize you.”

“If there’s one thing I do well, it’s stealth mode. Wait a sec.” She took off her sandals. “Come walk along the water’s edge with me.”

He kissed the top of her curls. “You are such a romantic. All right, I’ll play.” He removed sneakers and socks, stuffed the socks in the toes, tied the laces together, and hung them over his left shoulder. “I’m reliving my childhood.”

“It’s a beach. It’s calling to us. Ooh, chilly water.” She opened a voice memo on her phone. “Back to business. What did Anthony have to say?”

“He was less patronizing than his wife. We talked of manly things: Basketball and scotch. Then he switched the discussion to network builds. Probably wanted free advice; doubt he was trying to see if I’m for real. There’s no reason for anyone to think we have ulterior motives.”

“I’ll make a note in your employee file. Marion holds her liquor well, but it makes her talkative. I first learned all about how difficult it is to hire competent managers.”

“Ouch.”

“I switched to full-on Barbie doll female after that. I conveyed all eagerness to receive her wisdom and experience. She gave me advice on how to choose employees and then told me how they’ve been coming here for years and recommending it to their friends, because it’s quaint.”

Frank said, “Yeah. Quaint.”

“Oh, stop. This is not a hardship. Anyway, after she impressed me with her patronage she confided they have a plan to buy their own bed and breakfast.”

“Do they now?”

“Indeed. Behind my empty smile I was measuring her for a saboteur hat. What if she or her husband put that gunk in the shower themselves?” She danced away from an aggressive wave.

Frank followed her. “You can’t capture my wisdom if you take away the recording device. Do you think she’s capable of making herself into a mess on purpose?”

Giulia tried the waves one last time and quit. “I’ve got goosebumps in places that shouldn’t have goosebumps. I’m not sure how driven she is. That’s what’s holding me back. If image is more important than acquiring what she wants, then no. But we have a few more days to get under their skins. At least one of our first possible suspects walked right into our shower.”

Frank angled them toward the lighthouse’s beach fence. “If you give that to Zane to transcribe, he’ll freak out.”

Giulia laughed. “I’ll warn him first.” She stopped recording. “I have to scrape the sand off my feet before I go inside.”

Frank sat her down on the grass. “Let me see.” He faced her feet to the setting sun. “Allow me, ma’am.” He brushed her feet clean with his hands, then started tickling.

Giulia gasped and shrieked and squirmed. “Stop—stop—stop.”

“Kiss me in public first.”

“Stop first.” She butt-walked farther up the grass. Frank sat next to her and kissed her. Giulia didn’t keep her eyes open to make sure no one was watching, either.

When Frank broke the long kiss, he said, “Honest answer: Did you check to see if we were alone?”

“I did not.”

Frank stared into her eyes.

“I only lie to catch a suspect. You know that.” She pecked his nose. “Maybe I’m mellowing.”

“Excellent.” He pulled her to her feet. “Next we’ll find a secluded corner of beach and have sex outside.”

Giulia squeaked.

Twenty-Three

Giulia ran into the sunroom, laughing, with Frank a step behind her.

The glowing twilight outside didn’t extend to inside. Frank groped along the wall and switched on the sconces.

“So what do we do here in the evening? Get the game on the radio and sit around playing bridge?”

Giulia shook her head. “You never had to make your own entertainment, did you? Not with your huge family.” She walked through to the music room and turned on the fringed lamps.

“
A
Dhia
dhílis
.
”

“Frank, please don’t blaspheme.”

He brought his face closer to a floor lamp with six different crochet panels in shades of rose terminating in gold fringe. “‘My God’ is a simple reaction to unexpected events. Trust me, when I blaspheme, you’ll know it. This lamp is like something out of a time travel nightmare.”

Giulia lifted the piano’s fallboard and played an arpeggio. “If my relatives still spoke to me I could take you to visit Aunt Cherubina. The last time I saw her, six years ago, her entire house was packed with furniture like this. Gloomy old paintings of Christ Crucified and Our Lady of Sorrows covered the walls.”

“I’ve never been so glad my relatives chose to become as American as possible. The worst I remember was Uncle Fionn. He mashed Auld Country styles with kitsch from the nineteen fifties.” A shudder. “It was like a flea market dumpster unloaded in his house.”

Giulia played the opening bars to “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”

Frank stalked over to the piano and banged out the beginning of the Tarantella.

Giulia countered with “How Are Things in Glocca Morra” from
Finian’s Rainbow
.

Frank blew her a kiss and began “That’s Amore.” Giulia started singing by the second verse and they finished the duet together. Without a beat in between, Giulia segued to “The Wells Fargo Wagon.” Since they’d spent several weeks rehearsing and performing this musical in the Cottonwood Community Theater orchestra pit, both of them could sing it like loud karaoke.

Applause after the last chord made them both jump. Everyone except Marion and Anthony had squeezed into the music room.

“More, please,” Roy said. “Do you know anything from
Hello Dolly
?”

Frank tried “Before the Parade Passes By.” CeCe and Roy sang along. The instant that song ended, Mac asked for “Ten Minutes Ago” from
Cinderella
. Giulia played that one as well as she could with Frank holding her by the waist and waltzing in place. She glanced sideways once to see two of the couples waltzing. Not Marion and Anthony, who’d arrived when she’d been concentrating on the keyboard.

Lucy said with a slight duck of her head, “By any chance do you know the marionette song?”

Frank said, “You mean, ‘The Internet is for—’”

Giulia elbowed Frank. “I am not playing anything from
Avenue Q
.” To Lucy: “Do you mean ‘The Lonely Goatherd’ from
The Sound of Music
?”

“Well, yeah, of course.”

Giulia gave her the smile she used to reserve for the students whose mouths she wanted to wash out with soap. “I don’t know that one by heart. What about ‘My Favorite Things’ or ‘Edelweiss?’”

“My Favorite Things” won the vote. Frank took the left-hand part and Giulia the right-hand. She could play this song in her sleep, so under the cover of adjusting her position on the piano seat, she sneaked glances at everyone.

Joel and Gino sang along with their arms around each other. Next to them, Marion and Anthony tried not to enjoy themselves. Giulia could tell by their facial expressions. Every year she’d taught English literature a few students fell in love with the Gilgamesh and Beowulf unit but pretended not to because it wasn’t cool.

When the song ended, Frank changed keys and vamped the opening to “Singin’ in the Rain.”
Mac said something to Lucy and they both left. Before the song finished, Lucy returned with a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of glasses and Mac carried a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

More applause at the end of the song. Giulia glanced at Frank, who nodded.

“Just one more, okay?” Giulia said to the room.

“‘Cabaret?’”

“‘Everything’s Coming Up Roses?’”

“‘Brush Up Your Shakespeare?’”

“Yes!”

“Yes, please.”

Frank started the intro and Giulia scanned her memory for the order of verses. The guests divided themselves into two groups on their own and tried a proper call-and-response but they kept messing up the order of Shakespeare plays.

Halfway through the second verse Gino pulled up the lyrics on his phone. Everyone crowded around the tiny screen to sing. By the last verse they all had their arms around each other’s shoulders and were swaying in time to the music. Even Marion and Anthony joined in.

Laughter and applause followed the final chorus.

“That’s thirsty work, everyone,” Mac said. “I’ve got lemonade and fresh-baked cookies set out on the coffee table in the living room.”

The party shooed themselves into the other room. Mac stayed in the music room. Frank went to get Giulia something to drink.

“Matthew found a long mesh bag filled with sludge in the Haswells’ shower pipe,” Mac whispered to Giulia. “It looked like one of those lint traps you see on washing machine hoses.”

In a low voice, Giulia said, “No ghost did that.”

Mac looked doubtful, but Anthony and Marion returned to the music room before she could answer.

“Thank you both for that impromptu concert,” Anthony said. “You must be in theater as well as coffee and IT.”

“Yes, we both work in the orchestra pit on occasion. We know a lot of standard musicals.”

Frank slipped a warm chocolate chip cookie into her hand.

“Thank you, honey.”

Anthony jogged Marion’s elbow. “Come on; let’s top off our coffee in our room.” He winked at Giulia and Frank. “We have a stash of liqueurs. It’s our not-so-secret vice.”

“I missed a possible drawback to this place,” Frank said when they were in their own room.

“Which is?” Giulia said from the tiny round nightstand. Her iPad took up half its surface.

“The cute element.” Without raising his eyes from his phone, he said, “That video of you only has a hundred and thirty-four views. You’ll never go viral that way.”

“I would love to wring CeCe’s neck.” She typed a set of bullet points while Frank texted one of his fantasy league rivals, from the gloating sound of his chuckle. “I can think of at least four different ways that sludge got into the shower pipe, and none of them involve otherworldly intervention. Also, I want to wangle lunch or dinner with the psychic tomorrow.”

“Sure. I’ll run out and buy you one of those big rectangular swimsuit cover-ups and you can wrap yourself in it. See if that brings out any more about the Veeeiled Woooman.”

Giulia facepalmed. “Seriously, why couldn’t she see me as my Italian great-grandmother far in the past? Lady Rowan back in Cottonwood did it too. If I’m going to give off psychic vibes to total strangers, how much longer will it take for the signals from my old life to fade?”

Frank set his phone on the nightstand next to the iPad. “Come to bed and we’ll work on it.”