The Smoking Nun: Book 4 Nun of Your Business Mysteries

by Dakota Cassidy

  “So he was angry with Sister Ophelia for giving him a bad grade. Did this anonymous person say when this happened?”

  Sister Sue inhaled and let out a shaky breath. “A few days before she was killed.”

  “Which would put this incident at last week,” I muttered. “Did Sister Ophelia mention it to either of you? Or anyone, for that matter?”

  Both sisters shook their heads.

  “When did this anonymous source, who I’m assuming is a student, tell you about this incident?”

  Sister Sue nodded vigorously. “Just after the police left today. She was frightened when she saw Detective Primrose and Officer Meadows. She said she was afraid if she didn’t tell us, Daniel would get away with a sin and go to Hell.”

  Now I nodded. Boy, did I know what the threat of fire and damnation could do to your head. “Would you consider talking to this anonymous source again? Or possibly letting us talk to whoever this is? I promise we’ll keep this in the strictest of confidences.”

  Sister Ann’s eyes went wide. “I’ll do it,” she volunteered, but she didn’t offer anything else, and I didn’t press. I didn’t want to pressure her to break a confidence on our account. Not yet anyway.

  “So, is Daniel hard to manage? Is he a hothead, or is this an isolated incident?”

  “Daniel’s always been…difficult. Yes. That’s probably the best word to describe him. He’s not a bad child, just mismanaged and left to his own devices more often than not,” Sister Sue chimed in. “Sister Ophelia loved him. She loved all her students, Trixie, no matter how difficult. She probably didn’t tell anyone about the threat because she knew he didn’t truly mean it.”

  I sighed and clapped my hands against my thighs before I rose. “Well, thank you for telling me. I won’t take up any more of your time, but I suggest you call Detective Primrose and tell her exactly what you shared with me. She’ll need to know.”

  As I began to wend my way through the chairs toward the door, two expensively dressed people flew in and ran to Daniel. The clack of high heels and the cloud of very blonde hair, coupled with an air of arrogance, told me who they were before they spoke a word.

  The Colettis, I presumed.

  Daniel’s mother, draped in a fur coat and smelling of pricey perfume, dropped down next to him and cupped his chin, never taking off her sunglasses. “Are you all right, sweetie?”

  But he jerked his face away in distaste and sighed with exasperation—typical for most children that age, I suppose. “I’m fine. Get off me, Mom.”

  His father, a short but incredibly imposing man in a classically cut, black pinstriped business suit, slapped his son on the back. “Don’t talk to your mother like that, Daniel,” he ordered sharply, making me instantly feel sorry for the boy when his face fell and his shoulders slumped.

  I decided to save him some humiliation and approach his parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Coletti?”

  Mrs. Coletti lifted her chiseled chin and pushed her short blonde bob from her face. “Who are you?” she asked, looking down her nose at me from behind her dark sunglasses.

  I suppose, me in my drab jeans and pilling gray sweater, I came off as beneath her, judging from the way she was dressed, but I straightened my spine and squared my shoulders.

  Holding out my hand, I smiled. “I’m Trixie Lavender. I own the tattoo shop over on Peach Street.” I don’t know why I said that. People of this ilk didn’t frequent places like mine, but it felt important to let them know. “I am…was a good friend of Sister Ophelia’s. Do you mind if I ask Daniel some questions?”

  Mr. Coletti pushed his wife behind him with a nudge and gave me a blistering glance, his sharp blue eyes never leaving my face. “Never mind what she wants. I mind if you ask Daniel some questions. What is this about?”

  “This is about a threat your son made toward Sister Ophelia,” Higgs countered, using his cop voice. I knew it well. It was authoritative and brisk and meant he wasn’t going to be unsettled by Mr. Sharp-Dressed-Man.

  Mr. Coletti had to look upward at Higgs, but he gave him a scathing once over to silently assure Higgs that he was neither intimidated nor afraid of his size. “And you are?”

  Higgs stuck out a hand and caught them all off guard by grinning. “Cross Higglesworth.”

  Mrs. Coletti virtually melted into the floor, her breathing fluttering in and out of her lungs. She placed her hand in Higgs’s and lingered for a good long moment before he pulled his hand from her grip.

  But Mr. Coletti wasn’t as charmed as his wife. He didn’t take Higgs’s hand. In fact, he ignored it, grabbing Daniel by the arm and trying to yank him upward.

  “I don’t care who you two are. No one’s asking my son anything without an attorney present. Now, get up, Daniel. We’re going home!”

  Daniel pulled his arm from his father’s grip, but he rose and gave us all a dirty look before sauntering toward the door. I think if he could have gotten away with sticking his tongue out at us, he would have.

  “Now, if you want to ask my son questions, you’ll do it with an attorney present and not before!” he barked, and I almost expected him to click his heels together like the guy on Hogan’s Heroes before he grabbed Mrs. Coletti by the arm and ushered her out.

  As they left the room, the air felt as though it returned and we all stared at each other for a moment, collecting our thoughts.

  I finally asked, “Is Mr. Coletti always so curt?”

  Sister Ann let out a cleansing breath and nodded. “He’s always very angry about something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Not once.”

  “I almost can’t blame the kid for being so edgy with a father like that,” Higgs commented under his breath.

  Nodding, I decided we were done here. There was nothing left to ask if we couldn’t talk to Daniel or this anonymous source.

  “They do say you are your environment, and he’s certainly a product of a rigid upbringing, if Mr. Coletti’s any indication. By the way, sisters, what does Mr. Coletti do for a living?”

  Sister Sue twisted her fingers together. “He’s a very expensive, very well-known divorce attorney…and gracious, he makes me a nervous wreck.”

  Well, that explained his super-expensive suit and hawk-like gaze. “And Mrs. Coletti? What does she do?”

  Both the nuns looked at one another, mischief in their eyes. “Shop,” they said in unison.

  I tipped my head back and laughed, handing them a card from Inkerbelle’s so they could give me a call if they remembered anything else, and then we said our goodbyes.

  We strolled down the quiet hall together, both of us lost in our thoughts. I was processing what Daniel has said to Sister Ophelia, when I heard Sister Ann call out to us to wait.

  Turning, we both looked at each other as she approached, her footsteps padding softly against the floor. But she looked panicked as she reached out and grabbed my hand.

  Breathless, she said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Sister Sue, but two things before you go, if you don’t mind?”

  I felt her anxiety, and it left me feeling anxious, too. “Of course, Sister Ann.”

  She swallowed hard then looked me in the eye. “First, Daniel isn’t just difficult. He’s a bully, and I suppose I understand why he behaves the way he does. His father isn’t a pleasant man. He’s always goading Daniel and pushing him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak a kind word to the child. But Daniel’s infamous for stealing lunches and constantly picking fights. Naturally, he’s the size of a grown man, so he frightens the other children. Sister Ophelia always took his side when we suggested suspension. She thought he was just misunderstood.”

  That sounded like Sister Ophelia. Always rooting for the underdog even while seeing them for what they were.

  “Okay, and is there more? You said there were two things.”

  Sister Ann blew out a breath, her cheerfully round face clearly displaying how torn she was to impart her next bit of information. “I overheard Sister Ophelia arguing
with someone.”

  My ears instantly perked up, but it was Higgs who asked, “With who?”

  “I don’t know who it was, and I never, ever would have said a word if Sister Ophelia didn’t end up…well, you know how she ended up…” She shook her head and looked at me, her eyes pleading and brimming with tears she impatiently brushed away. “Anyway, I don’t know who it was. I didn’t recognize the other voice. I couldn’t hear the conversation clearly, except for the words ‘no one can ever know.’ I know it was a female, and I’m almost positive it was another nun because Sister Ophelia said, ‘I saw you with my own eyes. You’ve broken your commitment to God. When you became a nun, you made a promise to be faithful to Him.’”

  Chapter 5

  My mouth fell open, but no words would come out and my poker face went on the lam. Sure, I’d heard of things like this happening, but I’d never visited the scenario up close and personal.

  Thankfully, Higgs had my back and stepped in. “So she was having a conversation with someone who’d broken their vows? Using the words ‘faithful to Him’ implies someone was behaving indiscreetly. As in an affair?”

  Sister Ann’s hands flapped upward in a nervous flutter of fingers as her eyes darted around the hallway. “I think so, and that’s all I know. I mean, it could have a million different meanings, right? The bit about faithfulness and commitment? It doesn’t have to mean an affair, does it? But I left as fast as I could because you know what the Good Book says about gossip, Trixie. Besides, I didn’t want to hear any more. I despise knowing things I shouldn’t. But when I heard what happened to Sister Ophelia, I knew I had to tell someone if the information helps with the investigation.”

  When I finally found my voice, I gripped the strap of my purse and asked, “Where did this argument happen, Sister Ann? Here at school?”

  She bounced her head and toyed with her rosary. “In the coat closet by the entryway. The door was closed, but they were yelling, which is why I heard them in the first place. Most everyone had gone for the day, but I stayed later to do some lesson planning for the following week.” She looked over her shoulder in her nervousness and whispered, “Oh! I can’t tell you how much I regret hearing that conversation!”

  I patted her arm to reassure her she was right to have told me. “But you’re doing the right thing, Sister Ann. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but the person responsible for this can’t be caught if we don’t have all the facts. So tell me, what day did this happen?”

  “Friday after school let out.”

  And that was definitely within the time frame for Sister Ophelia’s murder, which occurred over the weekend.

  “Thank you, Sister Ann. If you think of anything else, anything at all, please call me. And do call Detective Primrose and share what you know. This is important information.” I gave her hand one last squeeze and turned to leave, my head whirring.

  As we exited the school, the children were setting up a memorial for Sister Ophelia by the fence, with her picture and candles. My heart promptly constricted in my chest and more tears threatened to fall.

  Higgs pulled my hand into his and guided me past them. “So that just got sticky, huh? Do you think Sister Ophelia meant this nun was having an affair?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like it doesn’t happen, because I assure you, it does. Priests and nuns break their vows sometimes. They’re human, too.”

  “Okay, so we need to find out who Sister Ophelia was arguing with.”

  But I frowned. “And what about Daniel? Do you really think he’s capable of strangling someone? That’s a vengeful act, Higgs. He’s just a kid.”

  “Well, he’s certainly big enough, Trixie. He’s strong as an ox,” Higgs reminded me as we walked to the corner.

  “Tell me about it. But seriously, would he be out that late on a Sunday night? Deacon Delacorte found Sister Ophelia at about ten o’clock. He’s only thirteen, for pity’s sake.”

  Higgs shrugged his wide shoulders. “Do you suppose anyone’s watching him that closely to know what he’s doing?”

  “Listen, the Colettis might not win parents of the year, but surely they’d know if their son was out that late on the night before a school day.”

  He stopped at the crosswalk and pressed the button, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Would they know if they were passed out drunk?”

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Coletti. She reeked of booze, Trixie. No one drinks this early in the day on a Monday unless they drink all the time, at all hours of the day.”

  “You could smell her breath?”

  Gosh. I had so much more to learn—so much more to observe than just the obvious. I could kick myself for forgetting to use all my senses.

  He wiggled an eyebrow and winked. “Well, she did pull me in so close I could see her tonsils.”

  I barked a laugh. “She sure did. Boy, the ladies are just lining up for you these days, huh? Carla, and now Mrs. Coletti.”

  “Ah. But they’re not the right ladies,” he said with his devastatingly handsome smile. “Anyway, Mrs. Coletti drinks. So maybe she wasn’t aware Daniel even left the house, and I’d bet Mr. Coletti works all kinds of odd hours, being a high-powered divorce attorney. Plus, it’s not improbable for a kid his age to sneak out. From the size of him, I can’t believe he hasn’t rented his own apartment by now.”

  I chuckled. “He is a big kid. I swear, Higgs, I had no idea he was a child when I lunged for him. At a quick glance, he looked like an adult.”

  Higgs held out his fist for me to bump. “Impressive tackle, by the way.”

  I bumped his fist with mine, but I shook my head as we crossed the street. “I’m not a fan of this theory, Higgs. Not even a little. Daniel behaves the way he does because he got a crummy lot in life with his parents, but I don’t believe he’d kill Sister Ophelia for a bad grade, even if he said he wanted to.”

  “But what about if your parents pressured you all the time? What if your father was a rich, prominent attorney who would give you the business if your grades weren’t good? I get the feeling Mr. Coletti, whose first name is Horatio by the way, I Googled him, would use extreme measures to keep his son in line. Measures that might frighten Daniel enough to resort to extreme measures himself.”

  I firmly shook my head. “Still not buyin’ what you’re sellin’.”

  “You’re doing the soft thing again.”

  “You mean assuming the victim’s emotions?” We’d talked about avoiding this since I began to work with Tansy, and I constantly warred with my head and my heart.

  He nodded. “Yep. Sister Ophelia was fond of Daniel. You don’t want her to be wrong about him because you liked her and you trusted her judgment. So you’re making up excuses for Daniel instead of looking at the entire picture with objectivity.”

  That was certainly a fair observation, and one I’d try to keep in perspective. “Okay, but we have no proof of anything until we actually talk to him anyway. I don’t know if that’s ever going to happen after our experience this morning. So let’s move on to whomever Sister Ophelia was talking to in the closet. I guess we can safely say this alleged nun was having an affair.”

  “And how did Sister Ophelia find out about it? Did this nun just spill the beans or did Sister Ophelia catch her in the act?”

  I think I went a whiter shade of pale. As I said, things of that sordid nature do happen in the church, probably more than any of us were ever aware, but I can’t imagine catching someone in the act and having to live with either keeping it a secret or telling someone.

  “She did say she saw her. Maybe she witnessed whoever this nun was, catting around and she confronted her? Maybe that’s why Sister Ophelia was so stressed? Stressed enough to smoke a cigarette not once, but twice in one day. When I went to take the trash out to the dumpster while we were setting up for the speed dating, she was smoking, and she told me she only did it when she was stressed. Foolish me, I didn’t ask her what she was stressed about because we got di
stracted by Carla Ratagucci’s fundraising tactics.”

  Higgs drove his hands into his pockets. “Maybe she wanted to talk to Father Rico about it? Remember, he did say she wanted to talk to him just before the event, something Sister Patricia confirmed, but he’d been too busy with preparing announcements.”

  “So you’re saying she was going to tattle?” My glance at him was skeptical. “I gotta tell you, Higgs, that doesn’t sound like Sister O. She was a problem solver, and she had a kind heart. If there was some kind of physical affair going on, it definitely meant trouble for the parties involved, but I don’t believe Sister Ophelia would say anything and break a confidence before she at least tried to help the person. If she was going to tell Father Rico, the situation was more dire than the bits and pieces Sister Ann heard.”

  “But it’s definitely a moral dilemma, especially for a nun, yes? Maybe she was going to keep it vague when she talked to Father Rico? Hypothetical circumstances and such?”

  “Maybe. Either way, we can’t eliminate that lead.”

  “Or the lead to Daniel,” he reminded me once more, and I’m certain it was in an effort to keep me grounded.

  As we wandered down the sidewalk in the faint sun, passing people and the places I’d come to love, looking into every face with suspicion, I wondered for the millionth time, who would kill a nun loved by so many, so brutally?

  And why?

  We’d gathered at Knuckles’s for our biweekly meal—the one where we all brought something and shared our goodies in potluck fashion.

  As we sat around the table, I waited to hear something from Tansy after sending her what I’d learned, if she didn’t already know, that is. But so far there’d been nothing. Nothing about Daniel, nothing about any unusual evidence from the crime scene not visible to the naked eye—nothing about what was used to kill Sister Ophelia—just a big fat nothing.

  Coop sat next to me, eating her stroganoff with relish, but we weren’t our usual noisy bunch tonight. Normally, we spent our meals chatting about current events or telling stories about our days. But tonight, our somber mood lingered over us like a dark cloud.