Nun But The Brave (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 3) Page 8

  A shot of Kanning’s back, his head of brown hair with its perfect off-center wave bobbing as he walked into a massive department store. The camera bobbed in the opposite direction as his cameraman followed.

  “Doomsday Preppers are convinced the world as we know it will end at any given moment. The Bomb. An Electromagnetic Pulse frying every circuit on the planet. The Plague.” He stopped in front of an outdoor kayak display and affected shock. “The end of the world as we know it, indeed, Scoopers. Any one of those scenarios would mean no more of The Scoop.”

  An older couple passed him without bothering to glance at either him or the camera. A twenty-something woman stopped, looked, and snapped a picture of Kanning with her cell phone.

  Kanning continued. “Because The Scoop is dedicated to giving our viewers everything they need to know, we’re heading into the Pittsburgh REI to price out what you’ll need to survive the inevitable apocalypse.”

  He headed straight for the camping section. As he held up price tags on tents, sleeping bags, cooking gear, and more, a ticker ran across the bottom of the screen with a running total.

  “Your kids won’t need their college funds when civilization collapses,” Kanning said after completing his fantasy survival list. “It’s a good thing, because otherwise you’ll have to take out a second mortgage to make sure your bunker is zombie-proof.”

  The show cut to the sidewalk in front of a gun store as the owner refused to let the camera inside. The ticker added prices for guns and ammunition as Kanning advised his audience to buy a few hundred sand bags to barricade their fortified house against floodwaters and bullets from hostile neighbors. Giulia made a face at the screen at the knowledge she and The Scoop used the same research sites.

  “What’s that you say? Storage is a problem for that many sand bags? Use your garage. Cars will be obsolete once gasoline can’t be pumped because the electrical grid has failed. And if you haven’t found that special person to share the scorched earth with—” An inset appeared next to Kanning’s face. “There’s always the Doomsday Prepper dating sites.” He mimicked the iconic Home Alone mirror scene.

  The last segment began with Kanning walking along a tall hedge made of ivy and something deep green with berries.

  “We’re in the woods near Beaver Falls,” he whispered. “We don’t know who owns this property, but we’ll find out. The Keystone State’s very own homegrown Doomsday Prepper compound may lurk behind this hedge, or it may be nothing more than a family’s private campground. But true Scoopers know no one builds a fence like this unless they have something to hide.”

  His finger pointed to a brown spot in the deep green leaves. He reached in with both hands and created a hole. The camera lens closed in on the hedge. A spider scuttled away to the right. The lens entered the improvised opening. The image blurred, refocused, and Giulia saw people.

  Off to the far right, a man chopped wood. In the center, a woman worked a spinning wheel. Behind her, two people weeded a garden. Giulia reached for her mouse to enlarge the video. The picture went black. Then leaves and twigs slapped the lens followed by the sounds of multiple rounds being chambered into shotguns.

  Kanning’s face returned in Serious Reporter Mode. “We apologize for this abrupt ending to our search, Scoopers. Four bullies grabbed us and smashed our camera lens, but not the camera. They claimed we were on private property and chased us all the way out to the road. They may think we’re intimidated, but they don’t know The Scoop. We won’t rest until we learn what’s really happening in those woods.”

  Giulia paused the video. Was that a whole pound of pancake makeup on Kanning’s sculpted cheekbone? Why yes it was, plastered on top of a massive bruise. She tried not to smile as she rewound the video to the quick shot of the people on the inside of the hedge. One of the women in the garden resembled Joanne Philbey, but she was thinner than the photos Giulia had seen and a complex tattoo decorated her left arm.

  “Zane? Sidney? Did either of you ever use a dating website?”

  Eighteen

  Giulia’s staff appeared in her doorway as if by magic. Sidney’s brown eyes were as big as an anime character’s.

  Zane’s pale hair was trying to stand on end. “What did you say, Ms. D?”

  Giulia couldn’t answer him for a moment because she was laughing too hard.

  “Guys.” A deep breath to forestall the hiccups. “What kind of opinion do you have of me? I’m a married, pregnant, former nun.”

  Sidney tottered to Giulia’s right-hand client chair and sat. “Don’t scare us like that, even though we should have known better.”

  Zane leaned on the back of the other client chair. “My sister uses dating sites. The juxtaposition of what those sites are like with the question coming from you,” he smoothed his hair with one hand, “it shorted out my synapses.”

  Giulia tried a few more deep breaths. “I admit I didn’t think through the implications of the question when I asked it. However, I am serious.” She typed as she talked. “Joanne Philbey registered on three different dating sites, and I need to create a false profile for all of them.” She touched her bouncy curls. “Zane, you have Photoshop skills, right?”

  Zane and Sidney started to grin.

  “This is going to be fun,” Sidney said. “The captain of my college swim team met her last two boyfriends online. “

  “Excellent,” Giulia said. “Do you have time to help me with this right now?”

  Zane picked Giulia’s phone off her desk. “Smile, Ms. D.” He took several pictures.

  “You have a mad scientist look on your face.”

  “All in the name of a successful case.” His grin widened. “How do you want me to change you?”

  “I want to resemble Joanne. I should be thirty to forty pounds heavier, with straight hair and not much makeup. Small earrings.”

  “Right, like you’re repressing everything,” Sidney said. “The fake you should wear a button-down shirt in a neutral color. Like you used to wear when I started working here.”

  Giulia shook her head. “It’s a good thing I’m not too vain.”

  Zane elbowed Sidney and the imaginary light bulb appeared over her head. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, honest.”

  “I know. And I know I used to dress like the world’s biggest frump. For this experiment we should recapture the old me.”

  Zane walked out. “Magic will happen. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Sidney moved her chair next to Giulia. “Let’s create low self-esteem Giulia.”

  “With a new name.”

  “Oh, yes, right. A neutral name too.”

  Giulia logged on to the first site, the mainstream one with the largest TV and internet presence. The home page tried to lure her in with bright, upbeat copy. “I need a name before I can go anywhere. What about Maria, like in The Sound of Music? The last name should be something less suspicious than Smith.”

  “Rogers? Olson? Martin?”

  “Martin, yes. Like Mary Martin the actress. I can remember that.”

  She filled out the form using the separate Visa card she maintained for undercover work. “Blast, I need an email address.”

  “Yahoo,” Sidney said.

  “No, they want a phone number for verification.” A few minutes later, “Aha. Found a free email that won’t check up on me.”

  “Maria Martin’s” dummy email completed the entrance form and the full site opened to her. “Good Heavens. So much required information.”

  Sidney pushed her chair against Giulia’s “Let me take over. I’ve seen these places before. Zane,” she yelled. “What color are you making Giulia’s eyes?”

  “Hazel.”

  Sidney filled out screen after screen, Giulia listing Joanne’s preferences for activities, reading, and movies. When th
ey reached the personal statement page, they both worked out a lure for people Joanne may have dated.

  “I’m into the outdoors. Hunting with bow and arrow and shotgun, plus fishing and camping. I like to cook. I like cats. A lot. Sex is important too. So are sci-fi and kooky comedies. Make me laugh. Satisfy me.”

  “Oh, wow, you’re going to get major creeper activity.”

  Giulia smiled. “Good. If Joanne got involved with a sex offender or a general creeper, this profile is engineered to lure him out.”

  “Zane, we need the new Giulia picture,” Sidney called.

  “Your wish is my command,” he called back.

  Giulia’s email notification popped into the lower right-hand corner of her screen, followed by Zane in person.

  “If you don’t like it, Ms. D., I can scrap it and start over, no problem.”

  Giulia opened the attachment. “Maria Martin” had chipmunk cheeks and a double chin. Her flat blonde hair had dark roots and needed a trim. Her smile tried to be attractive but instead projected nerves and, yes, low self-esteem. Her tan button-down shirt washed out her face and hair.

  “Someone get this woman a life,” Giulia said. “She’s perfect.”

  Zane grinned again. “I have skills.”

  “Oh, stop preening,” Sidney said.

  “Jealous.”

  “We’re all working together, class,” Giulia said. “Do I have to get out my Ruler of Doom?”

  As one, Zane and Sidney said, “No, Sister.”

  “That’s better. Zane, I’m glad you chose an honest career. You could have made a fortune in fake IDs.”

  Silence. Giulia looked over the top of her monitor. A ghost of color flared on Zane’s cheeks.

  “Which you did in college?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sidney said, “I wish I’d known you then. I paid stupid money for mine, and the first night I tried to use it I got laughed out of three different bars.”

  Giulia face-palmed in mock despair. “I never expected Driscoll Investigations would also be a rehabilitation center for minor lawbreakers.”

  “You should tell your brother you’re doing such charitable work,” Sidney said. “He might approve.”

  “Not a chance. He’d find a way to make my hiring you despite not knowing your past indiscretions a sin on my part.” She waved away thoughts of her brother. “Zane, this photo looks enough like me and enough unlike me not to arouse too much suspicion when and if I meet with someone from one of these places.”

  “Meet?” Sidney said.

  “Why else would we go to all this work? Our client is certain her sister is alive. I’m almost certain. Since Joanne signed up for these meat markets, trying to find the men she may have met is my next logical step.”

  Zane came around to Giulia’s side of the screen. “Did you upload the photo?”

  “Doing it now.” A moment later, the site’s first ten suggested matches came on screen.

  Zane pointed to each in turn. “Creeper. Drunk. Creeper. Underage. Has a record. Him too. Possible. Creeper. Also possible. Lives in his mother’s basement.”

  Sidney and Giulia studied the photos. “I agree,” Sidney said.

  “Me too,” Giulia said. “Let’s see what the creeper quotient is on the next site.”

  They set up the same profile for the site restricted to twins and triplets and for the site catering to Preppers and off-gridders. Zane’s opinion of the first set of suggested contacts did not differ between all three.

  “I’ll check back tomorrow morning. What I’m really looking for are personal messages. Thank you both for interrupting whatever you were working on.”

  Sidney put the chair back, laughing. When she caught Giulia’s quizzical look, she shook her head and said, “Later.”

  Zane said, “Everything was worth dropping for this.” The phone rang and he picked it up at Giulia’s desk. “Good morning, Dris—”

  A high, hysterical voice cut him off. “I have to talk to Aunt Giulia right now!”

  Nineteen

  Giulia held out her hand for the phone. Zane closed the door behind him.

  “Cecilia, it’s Aunt Giulia. What’s—”

  “You have to stop dad! You have to come over here right away!” Sobs muddled the last words.

  “Cecilia.” Short and sharp. The sobs cut off. “What is happening?”

  “Dad’s making us pack up all mom’s clothes and things and he’s going to take everything to the St. Vincent DePaul shelter. That means he won’t let mom come back home.” Behind her voice, Giulia heard a car drive by and a door slam.

  “Cecilia, stop and think. Your dad is angry. Give him time to calm down. Your mom’s stuff can always be replaced.”

  “But he tore up their wedding pictures and buried them in the compost pile. He made Carlo throw the engraved wine glasses from their wedding into the garbage bin. It’s like he’s trying to erase her from our lives.”

  “Where are you calling from?” The last thing her niece needed was an enraged Salvatore overhearing this conversation.

  “I’m in the garage with the camping stuff. Dad says we’re getting rid of it all because we’re not going to do anything mom did with us ever again.” The sobbing restarted.

  A light bulb of her own popped on over Giulia’s head. “Cecilia, is any camping gear missing?”

  Through the sobs, the sounds of boxes and nylon bags moving around. “Um, yeah, maybe. The Scouts stuff is messed up and the cooking gear isn’t where it used to be.” More cardboard and metal sounds. “The wok is gone. That was a present from Grandma. Dad’s gonna be piss—um, mad. Oh shit.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Who is this?” Giulia’s brother said.

  Giulia closed her eyes. “Hello, Salvatore.”

  “You disgusting heretical whore. How dare you sully Cecilia’s ears with your foul mouth?”

  “What a Christlike example you’re setting for your children.”

  “What?”

  “You’re told to find the lost sheep and bring her home. Instead you’re locking the doors to keep her out.”

  Her brother’s voice cracked as he spewed out-of-context Bible verses at her. She cut him off.

  “If you don’t stop this Saint Pius the Tenth insanity, your kids will run away just like Anne did.”

  “Only if you put that disrespectful idea into their heads. They are obedient and devout, unlike you. You spit on the Cross with every breath you take.”

  Giulia slammed down the receiver. So much more satisfying than pressing “End” on a cell phone. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. All three of those kids would appear in her kitchen one morning if her brother kept this up.

  She pushed back her chair and pressed her forehead against the window screen. Traffic noises cleared the rage out of her head. When she could think again, she returned to her desk and wrote: Anne à Camping à Prepper supplies à Unknown drugs à Where did she run to? à Who did she run to? à Who did she run with?

  The phone rang again. Zane buzzed her. “Potential new client, Ms. D. Do you want to pick up?”

  “No. Please get our standard intake information.” Whoever she talked to might get blindsided by leftover fury at her brother.

  She grabbed her purse and opened her door. Zane and Sidney were both on the phone. Although she didn’t want to look at even a picture of food, she mimed eating and left.

  Ten minutes later, she arrived at the triangular downtown park. A panicky day care worker was cajoling a three-year-old wearing an Ariel dress out of the elaborate fountain. Six more three- and four-year-olds leaned on the rim, giggling. Three others were feeding peanut butter sandwiches to the pigeons. Two more day care workers tried to corral the pigeon feeders and the fountain gawke
rs to a picnic table where juice boxes and watermelon slices were set up.

  She sat on the edge of the fountain after the day care worker fished out the Little Mermaid cosplayer. July sun warmed away the chill of her brother’s phone call. She leaned her head back and spread her arms like a lizard sunning on a rock.

  Anne probably wouldn’t have logged on to a dating site from her church job. Not from her phone either, since Salvatore would likely have monitored her phone usage. Therefore, when she sneaked out at night, she met up with a sympathetic friend or with whoever supplied her the mysterious drugs.

  Giulia sat up. She needed to go back to Joanne’s apartment and try to channel a drug-sniffing dog. No, first she needed to hack into Joanne’s dating site accounts and see whose profiles she’d saved. All three of these incidents were connected; she was ninety percent positive. Well, maybe eighty-three percent.

  Zane to the rescue.

  Twenty

  She returned to Sidney on the phone talking baby talk to Jessamine. While she waited for Zane to get back from lunch, she plowed through emails and read over the latest intake form. It had been a smart choice to let Zane field this one. The caller danced around the “d” word, but at the core he wanted DI to catch his wife doing the nasty with her boss.

  She called the number and left a message of polite refusal. DI was no longer taking divorce cases.

  Zane saw the crumpled note in Giulia’s recycle bin when he returned. “I knew you’d see the hidden divorce language.”

  “It’s one of our only rules.”

  “Far be it from me to request a rerun of drunk cheater scumbags busting in here to try to beat us up.” He stared at her staring at her screen. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Actually, yes, but how many times can I disrupt your schedule before we start falling behind?”

  “Ms. D., you worry a lot. I’ve put work on the back burner several times to help you with something more urgent.” He inhaled and sang. “And the culminating pleasure that we treasure beyond measure is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done.”