Nun Too Soon (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 1) Read online

  Praise for the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series

  Books in the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series

  Copyright

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  About the Author

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  DINERS, DIVES & DEAD ENDS

  PORTRAIT OF A DEAD GUY

  FIT TO BE DEAD

  THE AMBITIOUS CARD

  MACDEATH

  CROPPED TO DEATH

  Praise for the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series

  NUN TOO SOON (#1)

  “Exciting and suspenseful.”

  – Publishers Weekly

  “For those who have not yet read these incredible mysteries written by an actual ex-nun, you’re missing out...Brilliant, funny, a great whodunit; this is one writer who readers should definitely make a ‘habit’ of.”

  – Suspense Magazine

  “With tight procedural plotting, more flavoured coffee than you could shake a pastry at, and an ensemble cast who’ll steal your heart away, Nun Too Soon is a winner. I’m delighted that Giulia–and Alice!–left the convent for a life of crime.”

  – Catriona McPherson,

  Agatha, Macavity, and Lefty Award-Winning Author of the Dandy Gilver Mystery Series

  “You’ll love Giulia Falcone-Driscoll! She’s one of a kind—quirky, unpredictable and appealing. With an entertaining cast of characters, a clever premise and Loweecey’s unique perspective—this compelling not-quite-cozy is a winner.”

  – Hank Phillippi Ryan,

  Anthony, Agatha and Mary Higgins Clark Award-Winning Author of Truth Be Told

  “Grab your rosary beads and hang on for a fun ride with charming characters, amusing banter, and a heat-packing former nun.”

  – Barb Goffman,

  Macavity Award-Winning Author

  “We’re hooked! Entertaining characters and a twisty plot make Nun Too Soon a winner.”

  – Sparkle Abbey,

  Author of the Pampered Pet Mystery Series

  “Colorful characters and a unique, lovable heroine make for another enjoyable read from Alice Loweecey. Nun Too Soon is a funny, snappy, well-paced mystery with a whodunnit that kept me guessing till the end.”

  – Jennifer Hillier, Bestselling Author of Creep, Freak, and The Butcher

  “I love Giulia (I’ve always been a sucker for kick-ass nuns), and Loweecey really knows how to turn a phrase. The sense of detail is deft; the timing is exquisite, the characters are real.”

  – James D. Macdonald, Author of The Apocalypse Door

  Books in the Giulia Driscoll Mystery Series

  by Alice Loweecey

  Novels

  NUN TOO SOON (#1)

  SECOND TO NUN (#2)

  (Fall 2015)

  Short Stories

  CHANGING HABITS

  (prequel to NUN TOO SOON)

  Copyright

  NUN TOO SOON

  A Giulia Driscoll Mystery

  Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection

  First Edition

  Kindle edition | January 2015

  Henery Press

  www.henerypress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2014 by Alice Loweecey

  Cover art by Stephanie Chontos

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Related subjects include: cozy mysteries, women sleuths series, whodunit mysteries, whodunnit, private investigator mystery series, humorous murder mysteries, book club recommendations

  ISBN-13: 978-1-940976-67-9

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my fans.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s been a long and interesting road here to the Hen House. Never give up, folks, and never surrender.

  Huge thanks to my awesome agent, Kent D. Wolf. And thank you, Henery Press. Giulia loves her new home. Thanks as well to all my writing friends who encouraged me with virtual hugs and chocolate. The trenches are better with good people to share them.

  One

  Giulia Falcone-Driscoll—formerly Sister Mary Regina Coelis—slammed open the door to her private office.

  “Sidney, I’m going to kill my husband.”

  Driscoll Investigations’ pregnant assistant jumped a whole inch out of her chair. “Don’t startle a woman in her thirty-seventh week, please.”

  “Sorry, mini-Sidney,” Giulia said to the almost-ready baby. “I didn’t mean to scare your mama. Make sure you spit up on Frank the first time he holds you.”

  Sidney—named for a rich uncle who had the gall not to leave all his money to Sidney’s parents—giggled. “If you kill him, cover your tracks, okay? I don’t want to get dragged into a murder investigation while I’m nursing.”

  Giulia slumped against the doorframe. “No jury in the world will convict me when they hear his latest gem, assuming the lawyers select twelve married women for the trial.” Her curly brown hair bounced over her shoulders. It was distracting, but still preferable to trapping it beneath a black veil.

  Across the sunny room, Giulia’s admin stared at her from beneath white-blond bangs. Sidney glanced at Giulia, then drew Giulia’s gaze toward the admin.

  “Zane,” Giulia said, “please stop shrinking into your chair like a cornered rabbit.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Driscoll.”

  He began typing at an alarming rate. Recently hired away from a gigantic accounting, loan, and paycheck processing company, Zane still tended to react like an escaped prisoner.

  Giulia huffed. “Zane, stop. You are allowed to take part in our conversations. You’re not in Cube Hell anymore. I’m not micromanaging you. You’re here because you have incredible analytic skills and because you fit in with our group dynamic.”

  “Sidney said it’s because I sound like Humphrey Bogart when I answer the phone.”

  “Sidney has a big mouth and she will need to go to confession this Saturday.”

  The phone rang. Zane turned away from both of them before picking up the receiver.

  “Good morning, Drisco
ll Investigations.”

  “Schweethaht,” Giulia finished in a whisper. Sidney spluttered into her hands. Giulia bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t do the same.

  “Why are you planning Frank’s funeral service this time?” Sidney asked in her stage whisper.

  “He called to say he invited his oldest brother and his wife and their three kids for dinner. Tonight.” Giulia kept her voice low so Zane wouldn’t be distracted.

  “It’s almost noon,” Sidney said.

  “I pointed that out to him. He said he knows I can do it and whatever I make will be fine. I wonder if broiled Leg of Frank Driscoll will taste good with a garlic and red wine sauce.”

  Sidney put her hand on her phone. “I’ll call The Scoop and tell them to be at your house at...seven-thirty?”

  Giulia made a gagging noise. “That pack of TMZ-wannabes gives pond scum a bad name. If they stick their camera in my face I might forget my Franciscan ideals of peace and reconciliation.”

  Sidney adjusted her position in her chair. Pregnancy hadn’t altered her college athlete physique much. And nothing could change her perky disposition—not even a baby kicking her ribcage.

  Zane put the call on hold. “Ms. Driscoll, Colby Petit of Creighton, Williams, Ferenc, and Steele is on line one.”

  Giulia’s eyebrows disappeared into her too-long curls. “Solid law firm. I don’t know that particular lawyer’s name...wait...”

  Zane’s fingers worked magic on his keyboard. “He successfully litigated the ‘bus stop pickpocket’ trial last November.”

  “Right.” Giulia came around behind Zane’s desk. “Got the guy’s sentence reduced to probation and restitution,” she read from the news report on his screen, “and got himself a commendation from the judge. So he’s a do-gooder with a smooth tongue. I’ll take it on my phone. Thanks.”

  Giulia closed herself into her half of Driscoll Investigations’ office space. When her husband had run the business, the room’s only personalization had been a basketball hoop attached to the off-white wall above the wastepaper basket. Seven months earlier he returned to the police force as a detective and Giulia became the owner of Driscoll Investigations.

  Now the walls were painted a soft lemon yellow, linen-like curtains covered the blinds on the window, and every piece of visible wood glowed from hand-polishing and buffing. “You can take the gal out of the convent,” Giulia used to say, “but the convent still tries to cling to the gal.” That clinging included ten years of manual labor skills learned at the altars of stovetop cooked starch, Lime-Away, and Wood Preen.

  She sat in her ergonomic secretary chair—secretaries did all the real work so their chairs gave the best support—and pressed the button for line one on the phone.

  “This is Giulia Falcone-Driscoll.”

  “Ms. Driscoll, this is Colby Petit.” His voice blended a nasal quality with the melodious tones of a trained elocutionist. “I’m representing Roger Lambelin Fitch. Does the name mean anything to you?”

  “Uh...it’s a fancy frilled rose that won first prize at last year’s home and garden show.”

  “Jesus Chri—sorry. Sorry.” He inhaled and coughed. “Those leeches from The Scoop tried to catch me with that reference at six this morning. Hadn’t even had coffee. I nearly said something that would not have looked good on the news. Anyway. Mr. Fitch is accused of murdering his girlfriend, Loriela Gil, last April. The Silk Tie Murder?”

  Giulia typed the phrase into Google. “Of course. Roger the pianist. We’ve worked in the same community theater orchestra a few times.” She picked out highlights of the news summary. “Roger was released shortly after the murder. What’s changed since then?”

  “I don’t want to go into details over the phone. Can you meet me for lunch? I have a proposition for Driscoll Investigations.”

  Giulia chewed her bottom lip. She shouldn’t. They were in the middle of that discreet embezzlement investigation for AtlanticEdge in which Roger Fitch’s name was prominent. Plus the Diocese of Pittsburgh’s background checks. Plus two interviews this afternoon for a temp to cover Sidney’s maternity leave.

  “Ms. Driscoll.” The attorney’s practiced voice became brisk. “I’m only asking an hour of your time. Did I mention lunch reservations at Airi?”

  Visions of homemade wasabi plus ginger ice cream danced in Giulia’s head. Well, she needed lunch. And she could pay for it herself. She wouldn’t bring up the conflict of interest. Client privilege, plus she trusted no attorney. If she said the words “conflict of interest” to this one, he’d be all over it like a rash.

  “All right, Mr. Petit. Half an hour, then? I’ll meet you there.”

  She regretted her decision half a second after she hung up the phone. “Falcone, you’re not as devious as you pretend.”

  She opened the door between the offices. “Guys, I’m meeting that lawyer for lunch.”

  Sidney nodded, deep in a transfer of handwritten notes to her computer.

  Zane said, “I sent the background documents for the new Seminarian candidates to your iPad.”

  “Excellent. Thank you. One of the best things to come out of my years at the convent was the Diocese trusting an ex-nun with their private business. I should be back by two at the latest. Go ahead and stagger lunch.”

  “I can eat at my desk, Ms. Driscoll. We all had to inhale our food at PayWright.”

  Giulia glared at Zane. “Get out of here and breathe different air. Walk. Enjoy a warm early March day because we’re bound to get snow by the end of the week. The brain works better with different stimulation.” She wrinkled her nose at herself. “Why do you make me feel like I’m your Scout Leader?”

  Zane smiled, wiped it from his face, then raised his right hand. “On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty.” When Giulia groaned, he said, “I got to the rank of Star before I rebelled.”

  “If next winter is as bad as the one a few years back, we know whose house to descend on for heat and shelter.” She grabbed her houndstooth blazer from the coat rack by the door. “Sidney, no labor pains ’til I hire a temp, please.”

  Two

  Giulia parked her eight-year-old copper Saturn Ion—secretly dubbed the Nunmobile—in the last open space in Airi’s parking lot. The deceptively beautiful March day appeared to have lured out every office worker in Cottonwood, Pennsylvania.

  The decibel level of the combined conversations in the small Japanese restaurant stopped Giulia cold in the doorway. There wasn’t a free booth or table in the place. She inhaled garlic and tuna and ginger and barbecued beef.

  A hostess appeared before her just as she saw a close-shaved black man in a sober gray suit waving from a booth near the front windows.

  “I think I’m with him,” Giulia said, pointing.

  “Right this way, miss.” The hostess weaved through the tables and Giulia followed, apologizing twice to diners for bumping the backs of two chairs.

  The lawyer stood and held out his hand. “Ms. Driscoll. I’m Colby Petit. Pleased to meet you.”

  They shook hands and Giulia slid into the other side of the two-person booth. A waitress set glasses of water and menus in front of Giulia and the lawyer. They studied the Guaranteed Ready in Five Minutes lunch specials without conversation until the waitress returned.

  “Tempura vegetables with miso soup, please,” Giulia said.

  “Spicy beef with seaweed salad, thanks,” Petit said.

  The moment the waitress turned away, Petit smiled at Giulia and she understood how he charmed judges and juries.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice. I don’t know if you’re aware of the history of the case?”

  Giulia debated on taking out her iPad to make notes. Too deceptive. Instead, she put on her polite face. “Not any longer, no.”

  He nodded. “That might be good. You’ll have a fresh perspective. In brief, last April first my client and his girlfriend went to sleep together and when he woke up she was out on their balco
ny, strangled with one of my client’s neckties.”

  Their food arrived. The ambient noise remained at a level above one of Frank’s rec league basketball games. Good thing Giulia’s ears had two years of navigating that kind of racket.

  She started her soup. Petit talked through his salad.

  “He was arrested immediately and called me that same morning. Forty-eight hours later, the police released him because all the evidence was circumstantial.”

  Giulia resisted the temptation to tilt her soup bowl up against her lips to catch every drop. Instead she dipped a battered slice of bell pepper into the restaurant’s signature wasabi and closed her eyes against the moment of flame in her sinuses. Wonderful.

  “You eat their wasabi? You’re a brave woman.” Petit blinked at his first mouthful of spicy beef. “This is as hot as I can take. It’s delicious, but I’ll be eating plain rice and Maalox for dinner.” He swallowed. “Every bite is worth it. To continue. For the past eleven months, the police have been, shall we say, less assiduous than I would like in trying to discover the actual killer.”

  “Did you think they were convinced your client was in fact the murderer?” More wasabi. Giulia breathed through her mouth for a few heartbeats.

  “Damn skippy. For my part, I’m convinced my client is innocent.” He chased a particularly saucy rib with several gulps of water. “After the usual tests and evidence gathering,” he panted slightly from the spices, “my client was indicted for first-degree murder twelve weeks ago.”

  Giulia finished the last piece of tempura with regret. On any other day, this quirky, charming man might convince her to add another case to DI’s two-ton workload. This despite his disparagement of the local police, since she assumed good intentions on his part. He must have done his research and known that Frank’s knee rehab and return to the police force as a detective—and transfer of DI to Giulia’s control—happened last June first. A smart lawyer like Petit would surely have those facts and would not include Giulia’s husband in his blanket condemnation.