Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2) (13 page)

Twenty-Six

Giulia went back to the room to change into running gear. Frank arrived a few minutes later and switched into beat-up cargo shorts. Odd-sized miniature boxes of lures went into several pockets.

Giulia adjusted a Spandex racerback shirt. “I’ll buy cheap sparkly sunglasses and run past the boat dock doing my best to look annoyed and vain.”

“I’ll tell a reasonable lie about how I refused to take you shopping last night.”

She tied her sneakers. “Was he wearing a wedding ring?”

“Don’t think so, but it doesn’t mean much. Not all men do.”

“Good point.” She strapped on her armband and Velcroed in her phone. “I’ll expect your report when you get back.”

At the end of what became a ten-mile run that looped through most of town, the only thing stopping Giulia from a dive into the lake was the thought of a soaked wedgie.

The glorious weather brought crowds to the stores, the bars, and the beach. She was the only one running at three in the afternoon. Stupid time of day for it, but when you have to squeeze things in…Her glitter-encrusted sunglasses pinched her nose and she was certain they were creating a gold-flecked raccoon mask on her sweaty face. She bought bottled water at the souvenir store before finishing the tenth mile at the Stone’s Throw driveway and plopped onto one of the patio chairs. The sunglasses came off before she drank half her bottled water without stopping for breath. Then she poured another third of it over her head and down her neck.

Mac joined her. “Is it too soon to ask if you’ve had any breakthroughs?”

Giulia gave her Polite Smile Number Two. “You know it is. I’m heading back to Cottonwood tomorrow morning to research. My computer at work is fast and powerful. It’ll keep me away from the scene here only a few hours.”

“The contractor who repaired the lighthouse retired, but his son is running the business now. He wasn’t happy when I suggested his father may have cut corners and endangered lives.”

Giulia stopped in the middle of another long drink. “Not when you phrase it that way.”

“People need to know when they screw up. I may look like a quaint old innkeeper now, but they forget that under these flowered shirts I’m still the woman who oversaw my hotel chain’s entire east coast management.”

With a wide-eyed expression, Giulia said, “So you agree with me that this incident wasn’t ghost-powered.”

Mac didn’t rise to the bait. “Not at all. I’m merely covering my bases.”

Frank met Giulia on the bocce ball court an hour later. She and Gino stopped their game for a moment.

“We’re tied at one end apiece if you want to shower, honey,” Giulia said.

“What, you don’t like my new Eau de Fish cologne?” He kissed her and she waved a hand in front of her face. “Fine. I’ll scrub up. Joel, are you playing the winner?”

Joel nodded. “Want to play the winner of my match?”

“Sure. Be back down in ten.”

Giulia aimed her ball and released. It knocked one of Gino’s out of play. She gave him her sweetest smile.

“You’re killing me. Joel, check for weighted balls, will you?”

Giulia fluffed her hair. “It’s called skill, gentlemen.”

Gino pointed up toward Heaven. “My grandfather, God rest his soul, is going to haunt me worse than the Stone’s Throw ghost if I lose this. Nobody beats me at bocce.”

“You do recall that I wouldn’t take a wager on our game,” Giulia said.

Gino threw his ball, which knocked one of Giulia’s closer to the
pallino
. He cursed. “I thought you wouldn’t bet because you figured you’d lose.”

She stared at him. “I told you I had experience.”

“People brag. Like Joel here when we first met. He doesn’t like to admit defeat in any sport.”

“Rugby,” Joel said. “I admit defeat in rugby, lacrosse, and the high jump.”

“And bocce.” Gino heaved his set of balls down to Giulia’s end and followed them with his hand out. “Good game. I underestimated you.”

Giulia shook hands. “I’m my own secret weapon. Joel, are you ready?”

He stood. “I will redeem the honor of my household.”

“Challenge accepted,” Giulia said.

They played to a tie and needed two additional ends to break it. Giulia won by putting a touch of English on her last ball, snaking it between two of Joel’s to within three inches of the
pallino
. As one, Joel and Gino got on their knees and bowed, hands and faces on the grass. A
click
made all three turn their heads. Frank lowered his phone. “For my own gallery, guys. I won’t post it on Facebook.”

Gino stood, dusting grass off his knees. “If she beats you, we want to see you kowtow to her like us.”

Giulia grinned. “Oh, yes, please, honey.”

Frank scowled. “Only if you do the same for me if I win.”

“Deal. Give me your phone.” She handed both their phones to Gino. “You’re in charge of the incriminating photograph.”

If bocce had a mercy rule, a referee would’ve called the game after the third end. Frank, muttering Irish maledictions against the balls, the wind, the court, and life in general, played the last end as though he had a chance. Giulia was gracious in victory, even when she stepped up on the railroad tie that marked the end of the court and waited for the promised homage.

Gino put the sun to his back and readied both phones. The smile on Frank’s face appeared a little forced, but he got down on the grass and made obeisance to the bocce champion.

“Thanks, guys.” Giulia hopped to the grass and retrieved the phones. “Lovely picture. I might make it into our Christmas card this year.”

She reset the balls at one end of the court. Joel and Gino took off toward the beach. Giulia waited until they were gone to drag her husband into her arms and kiss him.

“Thank you for being such a good sport. I think everyone here considers us to be nothing more than a couple on vacation.”

Frank growled. “My manhood is affronted by that beat-down you administered. I may have to endure another beer session with Walter the Whiner to regain it.”

“If you need to regain your manhood by winning a sporting contest with me, may I remind you of the last three times we played Horse, in our driveway, in full view of the neighbors?”

“Hey, a basketball hoop on the garage is meant to be used.” He scanned the yard and beach. “Everybody seems to have gone out for supper. Do you want to hear my fishing rental story?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Come over here and we’ll pull two chairs together.” When they were seated next to each other, she unlocked her phone. “Let me turn on the voice memo. Okay, go.”

“So the boat dock owner does not possess the family name and is Mac’s nephew from a Stone daughter’s marriage. He’s got a bachelor’s degree in business but quit working for The Man in January. He came here last Thanksgiving for a family reunion.”

“All those Stones?” Giulia said. “There aren’t enough beds.”

“It was a one-day party, picnic, boating, swimming binge. The boat dock business was up for sale, so Walter seized his opportunity.”

“That seems to be a Stone trait.”

A seagull flew over to the bocce court and landed on one of the railroad ties. Another settled on the sunroom roof and began a squawk-off with the one on the bocce court.

Frank lunged at the bocce seagull, yelling and throwing his arms forward. The seagull flapped to the grass and waddled away, head in the air.

Giulia chuckled. “I think you offended its dignity.”

“Too bad. Its droppings offended my car. I had to borrow paper towels and glass cleaner from Mac.”

“Yuck. So Walter bought the boat rental business. When?”

“February. I couldn’t get a handle on his finances, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s stretched pretty thin. He let me buy the beer. He and his girlfriend live over the rental shop. I gather the spectacular view doesn’t offset the tiny rooms and free fish odors day and night.”

Three young women in itsy-bitsy bikinis spread out blankets below the B&B’s grass and turned on U2 at top volume. Giulia brought the phone closer to her mouth.

“What kind of person is he?” She held the phone to Frank’s mouth.

“Lazy. He’s slow to get equipment, slow to make change. He slouches like it’s too much effort to stand up. I wonder if he quit his last job before they fired him.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t playing a part? You know, life is slow and easy here at the lake?”

“Pretty sure. He really hates waiting on customers and his cheerful smile vanishes the second they walk away. Oh, and get this: He skeeves blood. He griped every time a kid interrupted us to ask him to take out a hook from a fish they’d caught off the dock.

“He must have really hated his last job.”

“Or his need to suck up to Auntie Mac overrode all other considerations.”

Creed replaced U2. Frank looked pained. “Somebody made a mix CD.”

Giulia saved the voice memo. “You still have the touch. That was everything I needed and hardly anything I didn’t.”

“You think the nephew’s pulling all this haunting stuff because he wants the B&B?”

“Actually, no, because it’s way too much effort for someone who’s allergic to hard work. I’ll check up on him tomorrow with the rest, though.”

“Tomorrow? Oh, right. Research on DI’s internet.”

“My tablet has limits too. I need my tower.”

Nickelback took Creed’s place.

Frank stood. “I’m on vacation. That means I don’t have to eat Brussels sprouts, do homework, or listen to overhyped musicians.”

They headed inside.

“What’s next for me?” Frank said.

“All the poking around possible. I’m going to search the library and the upstairs halls again for hidden switches. Could you take downstairs, the souvenir room, and the suit of armor?”

“Break’s over.” Frank walked through the sunroom and down the hall to the lighthouse entrance. “Empty. I shall seize the moment.”

Giulia went up to the third floor and started with the red-fringed light. She ran her hands over the lace panels, but felt no unusual bumps. Crouching, she slipped under the lampshade to look for extra switches or a computerized gizmo. She was disappointed that the lamp appeared exactly as it should: An ornate, old-fashioned lamp.

Next the strip of carpet. No lumps or hidden wires. Nothing had been attached to the skinny hall table either. Maybe the attic, if Mac ran her Halloween week from a different, hidden computer. At the moment, Giulia couldn’t think of anything else powerful enough to coordinate a whole-house haunting.

On her way down to the second floor, she felt under the banister and checked the newel post for a secret hinge. Clean. She headed into the library and went straight for the five bookshelves. A thin layer of dust coated the highest shelves and the books on them. All the lower shelves were slightly above or at Giulia’s eye level. No dust on them. She started at the bookshelf farthest from the door and tilted out each book one by one.

Dialogue from
Young Frankenstein
popped into her head: “Put. Ze candle. Back.” She stifled a giggle. What would she do if one of these books triggered a secret passage? Besides follow it, that is. Call Frank? No. Explore the passage and hope it came out in front of a shocked Frank’s face. Maybe the exit would be in the suit of armor. Frank’s buzzed hair would find new ways to stand up higher if that happened.

“Looking for a book, Giulia? How was your day?”

Giulia did not jump. She turned to Marion with a smile. “A lot of fun. I beat Joel, Gino, and my husband in bocce ball.”

“In all the years we’ve been staying here we’ve never tried that. Anthony?”

Her husband joined her in the doorway. “Tried what?”

“Bocce ball. You know, that narrow court on the opposite side of the patio from the croquet wickets. Giulia is quite skilled at it.”

“Really? Could you give us a lesson? If we’re going ahead with our plan to buy a bed and breakfast or two, we need to learn the best entertainment to provide the guests. Perhaps tomorrow or Tuesday.”

Giulia’s smile didn’t waver. She’d dealt with worse condescension. “I’d be happy to. Let me know at breakfast the day you want to learn the game.”

They went into their room, forcing Giulia to be stealthy.

She moved and replaced one shelf of books after another, but not a single creak or snap of a secret lock opening rewarded her search.

She gave up at eight o’clock and went to find Frank.

He was studying the suit of armor and beckoned her over. “What this needs is a mace. Raise the arm and set it at an angle to threaten visitors.”

“You’re so romantic. Find anything suspicious?”

“Not a hidden lever or a secret nook anywhere.”

“I refuse to believe that a Woman in White is actually haunting this place.”

“A sound basis on which to work.” Frank stretched his back. “It’s got to be beer o’clock by now.”

“Long past it. Want to walk to that little Mexican place by the boat dock?”

A crash of thunder cut her off. Wind and rain attacked the lakefront door.

“Check that,” she said. “Pizza, delivered?”

As they walked past the sunroom, the living room lights came on. Mac and Solana entered, accompanied by a short, middle-aged man in flowing trousers and tunic.

“Anyone down here?” Mac called.

Giulia and Frank walked into the room. Marion called down the stairs, “We’ll be right there.”

Mac continued, “Does anyone know where those truant young men are? What about Roy and CeCe?”

“We’ve only seen Marion and Anthony this evening,” Giulia said.

Joel ran in from the kitchen hallway. “Are we late? Did we miss anything? Tonight of all nights my husband wants to eat at a fancy restaurant.”

“There’s still time,” Mac said. “We’re getting everyone together.”

“There is a God. Gino! Hurry up!”

“Coming.” Gino passed Joel and ran upstairs. “Back in forty seconds.”

“Serves him right for eating all that prime rib on a hot night.” Joel used his jacket to rub most of the rain out of his hair.

Giulia watched Solana and Flowing Clothes. Solana walked the perimeter of the living room. He set five dining room chairs around the coffee table.

CeCe and Roy entered through the sunroom, laughing and kissing and only a little soaked.

“You’re my babycakes,” she said.

“You’re my honey muffin,” he said.

Gino came downstairs in time to hear the endearments and shared an eye roll with Joel.

“I hear tequila talking,” Frank said.

CeCe hiccupped. “Only a few margaritas.”

Roy kissed her again. “Four and a half, baby. We split that last one.” He looked around at the gathering. “What’s up?”

CeCe spotted Solana and jumped up and down. “It’s séance night, it’s séance night.”

Solana finished her tour of the room and said to the guests, “Is anyone easily frightened?”

“No,” Giulia said.

“Not unless you brought a box of pet tarantulas,” Joel said.

Anthony and Marion joined the group. “I’m a business professional,” she said. “The only thing that frightens me is a tax audit.”

“Good.” Solana nodded at Mac, who left the room. “I have the ability to contact the spirits of those who have passed over. The lighthouse’s Woman in White is why Mac has asked us to come here each week. She wishes me to contact her, but we have yet to succeed. Is anyone here familiar with how a séance works?”

Several headshakes. Marion said, “I have a little knowledge from movies our children begged us to take them to see.”

Solana waved that away. “Hollywood. Please. Cedar, would you draw the drapes?” To the guests again: “This is my husband, Cedar. He is also my business manager and webmaster.”

Mac returned, carrying a tray of pillar candles in several colors.

Cedar directed their placement: Two near the center of the coffee table, two on the mantelpiece, and two more on a spare card table from the sunroom.

Cedar positioned an antique Ouija board and planchette in the exact center of the coffee table and set the candles on either side of it. “Solana inherited this from her mother, who inherited it from her mother. It’s the William Fuld 1917 design. Solana’s grandmother could see complete words from the spirits in the wood grain surface.”

The thunder came nearer. Giulia glanced at Solana for a reaction to this aggrandizement.

The businesswoman was already seated on the middle couch cushion, feet on floor, hands in lap. At least she wasn’t focused on Giulia as the Veiled Woman.

“Cedar and I are accountants during our day jobs, but I have some small notoriety and some equally small fame in the spirit realm.” A brief smile. “I don’t have a set rate for my services but I do take payment. That fact sets the hounds on me. If anyone has ever heard of CSICOP?”

Several headshakes.

“They investigate the paranormal, living and transitioned. That includes people like me. I spoke at length with a kind man who did his best to prove me as much a fraud as those television preachers who pretend to heal people they’ve planted in the audience.”

“He had these prominent veins on either side of his neck.” Cedar drew imaginary lines on his own neck. “Every time Solana passed one of his tests, the veins bulged. His cameraman was supremely bored for most of the session.”

“He was, until I brought out the board and the debunker’s grandmother contacted me. She used the planchette to spell out three words in the Basque dialect.” She looked over at her husband.

“Solana was concentrating with her eyes closed, so she didn’t see his reaction. I was honestly worried that the man would have a stroke in our living room. He made a strangled kind of noise and Solana opened her eyes.”

“The poor man was staring at the planchette like it was a scorpion,” Solana said. “He repeated the words to me and asked me how I knew them. I don’t know that dialect and told him so.” She sighed. “He got the witch hunter’s look in his eyes then and I started to end the session. He put his hands on the planchette and demanded more. Before Cedar could toss both of them out into the street, the man’s grandmother took over the planchette through my hands and spelled out several more words.”

Cedar chuckled. “He shrank in his chair like a little boy who’d just been spanked. When the grandmother’s spirit left us, I asked him to translate. He got belligerent again and insisted we were frauds preying on the vulnerable. That’s when I tossed his ass out.”

After a pause, Giulia said, “Did you ever get a translation of the words?”

Solana nodded. “A few months later he emailed us with a backhanded apology. He’d researched us all that time and couldn’t find irrefutable proof we were frauds. How nice of him. He also said that on the slim chance I hadn’t tried to dupe him, his grandmother had spelled out her pet nickname for him and the location of the two-hundred-dollar Christmas bonus he’d misplaced. It was in the torn pants he’d stuffed in a Goodwill bag. The bag was in his car trunk to donate that weekend.”