Goodwin leaned across the table toward her. “Listen, you—”
“Who else had access to the company’s bank account?” Sister Lou raised her voice to regain order within the group.
Beatrix shrugged. “I did. And Maurice.”
Sister Lou stilled. “Maurice?”
Beatrix looked confused. “Of course. He was an equal partner in the company.”
Sister Lou shook her head. “No, he wasn’t. He wanted to be an equal partner, but the contract Kevin offered him didn’t include that. You told me they argued about it.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Beatrix lowered her eyes.
Wanda looked surprised. “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but isn’t that unethical? Embezzlement, I mean?”
Sister Lou cocked her head while she considered Maurice’s biggest fan. “Wanda, you hacked into Spreading the Word Productions’ iCloud account. Have you ever gotten into any other company accounts?”
Wanda paled at the question. Her red hair glowed like fire around her broad face. “Of course not. I only got into the iCloud account one time to see what Doctor J had been working on. That’s all. I swear.”
Goodwin’s green eyes gleamed with vindictiveness. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“We don’t.” Nestor’s words were flat.
“You hacked our account?” Beatrix’s eyes were wide with surprise. Her lips were parted as she studied Wanda. “I worked with Kevin for years. I can’t believe he’d embezzle from the company.”
“Kevin’s and Maurice’s murders are connected.” Sister Lou was firm.
Justin’s eyebrows knitted. “How can you be so sure?”
“They’re not connected!” Ted straightened from the Caravan desk. His patience seemed to have worn thin. “They died in different places. They were killed in different ways. These cases aren’t related.”
Fran broke the silence after his outburst. “You don’t have to be here.”
With a heated glare at Sister Lou, Ted settled back into his previous stance.
Beatrix looked to Sister Lou. “Do you think it’s possible that Kevin killed Maurice because Maurice found out that Kevin was bankrupting the company?”
Sister Lou’s gaze never wavered from Beatrix. “Do you still think Kevin killed Maurice?”
Beatrix looked to those seated around the table. Her consternation was visible. “I don’t know.”
Sister Lou continued. “And what about Kevin’s death? Who wanted him dead? And why?”
“The real embezzler.” Fran’s answer was pensive.
Sister Lou studied Wanda and Beatrix. “Someone sent Goodwin an email from Kevin’s account. But that email was sent almost two days after Kevin had died.” She let that sink in.
“I got an email from a dead man?” Goodwin couldn’t have looked more surprised.
Sister Lou’s attention shifted to Goodwin. “How could a dead man send an email?”
“He can’t.” Fran stepped closer to the conference table. “So who did?”
Sister Lou started with Maurice’s biggest fan. “Wanda, you’ve hacked into the company before. You could have hacked Kevin’s email account.”
“But I didn’t.” Wanda’s voice was a thin thread of nerves. She shot a look toward the deputies, then back to Sister Lou. “I told you. I just got into their system that one time to read Doctor J’s report.”
Sister Lou believed her.
“Beatrix, you have access to Kevin’s email account, don’t you?” Sister Lou struggled to sound casual though anger was burning her up inside.
Beatrix again looked around the conference table. She seemed to be gauging the support she had from others in the room. “I didn’t send that email to Goodwin.”
Sister Lou met Beatrix’s eyes. “Shari identified the IP address of the computer from which Kevin allegedly sent his email to Goodwin. That same IP address is on the email you sent to Maurice confirming his travel arrangements. Did you send that email from your computer?”
A flash of anger briefly darkened Beatrix’s brown eyes. “You think I killed Maurice?”
“Did you?” Sister Lou trembled with anger. Her voice was rough. Her vision was clouded by a deep red haze.
“I was the one who helped him with his career.” Beatrix jabbed a finger toward Jessica. “You didn’t care about it. I was the one he talked with about his research. You were never interested.”
Jessica gaped at the other woman. “How dare you judge my marriage? What gives you that right?”
Sister Lou watched Nestor’s fists clench, then unclench. His thin features were tight with fury. He had the reckless look of a grieving son on the verge of doing something he would later regret. Sister Lou caught Fran’s attention. She looked from the deputy to Nestor, then back. Fran nodded to acknowledge the silent message.
“Your loyalty to Maurice was the reason his betrayal hurt so much, wasn’t it?” Sister Lou asked Beatrix.
“I did more to support his career than she did.” Beatrix’s face contorted into an ugly mask of jealousy as she once again jabbed a finger toward Jessica. “But he wouldn’t leave her. I even dyed my hair to look like her, but he still wouldn’t leave her. And it turns out the whore was cheating on him the whole time.”
“How dare—” Jessica’s outrage was cut short by Sister Lou’s observation.
“Maurice told you that he knew you were skimming money from the company’s bank account.” Sister Lou saw Fran stroll to a position behind Nestor. Ted watched her with curiosity. “He gave you an ultimatum: repay the money you’d stolen to purchase your BMW and jewelry and heaven knows what else, or he was going to tell Kevin.”
“After all I’d done for him.” Beatrix spoke between her teeth. “I killed him because he didn’t have any loyalty. He was going to betray me. Me!”
“You killed my father for money? You greedy—” Nestor surged from his seat, diagonally across the table from Beatrix.
Fran’s hands on his shoulders kept him in place. “Let the justice system handle this one.”
Ted confronted the administrative assistant. “Did you kill Kevin Appleby?”
“What?” Beatrix blinked as though realizing the magnitude of what she’d said and done. Her lips thinned. “I’m not saying another word. I want a lawyer.”
“For all the good that’ll do you.” Shari looked around the room. “A dozen people heard your spontaneous confession.”
“I have another question for you, Beatrix.” Sister Lou tilted her head as she considered the other woman. “How did you manage to put that threatening note in my mailbox?”
Beatrix’s smile was taunting. “I asked your congregation to arrange a tour of the motherhouse and congregational offices for my church group. The sister leading the tour didn’t even notice when I slipped away for a few minutes.” Sister Lou made a mental note to mention this security breach to the sisters who coordinate the tours.
Ted pulled out his handcuffs. “Beatrix Thorne, you’re under arrest for the murder of Maurice Jordan.”
“Doctor Maurice Jordan.” Nestor remained on his side of the table thanks to Fran, but his eyes burned with fury as they remained on Beatrix.
Ted glanced at the grieving son. “Doctor Maurice Jordan.” He stepped back from Beatrix. “Up.”
Beatrix stood. Her expression was defiant as Ted cuffed her. The deputy Mirandized her and escorted her from the room.
Fran trailed after her partner. She paused in front of Sister Lou. “Nice work, Sister.” Fran nodded before walking away.
Sister Lou was unable to speak. She looked at the members of the group who’d remained in the room. They looked as shell-shocked as she felt.
“Thank you, Sister Lou.” Nestor’s voice was thick with emotion. He dropped back onto his chair, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed. Jessica shot from her chair. She knelt beside her son and wrapped her arms around him.
Sister Lou was startled when Chris appeared beside her. He escorted
her to an empty seat at the table. It was over. Finally. It was over. Maurice’s murderer had confessed. The deputies had taken her away. Justice. At last.
Rest in peace, Mo.
Chapter 35
“We make a good team.” Sister Lou smiled at Chris and Shari.
The three of them were relaxing in her living room after a late dinner of salad and pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. They’d taken their usual spots. Chris was sprawled on the sofa, Shari was tucked into a corner of the loveseat, and Sister Lou had toed off her shoes and curled up on her oversized, overstuffed armchair.
“When did you realize Beatrix had framed Kevin?” Shari asked. The reporter had filed her story before joining Sister Lou and Chris for dinner at a small, nearby pizzeria. Diego had saved a place for the exclusive crime story on the front page, above the fold.
The trio had drunk a toast to that.
“When you pointed out that the IP address at the bottom of both emails were the same.” That’s when the little voice in the back of her mind had quieted. She’d known then that she was on the right track.
“But how did you know her motive was embezzlement?” Chris shifted on the sofa to face her. A palm-sized, gift-wrapped box lay beside him on the sofa, seemingly forgotten.
Sister Lou got her thoughts together. “Beatrix kept dropping hints that Maurice and Kevin argued over money. The business wasn’t doing well, but Kevin wasn’t spending above his means. He didn’t have a country club membership. He didn’t attend society functions. And he didn’t socialize with Briar Coast’s high-profile residents. In fact, he was operating on a shoestring budget, both personally and professionally.”
Shari nodded. “So you asked yourself where the money was going.”
“I had an idea.” Sister Lou recalled Beatrix’s wardrobe, her jewelry, and the BMW convertible she said she’d bought with money from her deceased husband’s estate.
Shari glanced at Chris before turning again to Sister Lou. “I was sure it was Jessica, but you’re right. If she’d wanted to end her marriage, she would’ve just left Maurice.”
“I thought Goodwin had killed Maurice for revenge.” Chris sat up. “He’d lost his job because of his rivalry with Maurice.”
“We may never know exactly what happened in that hotel room.” Sister Lou stared thoughtfully at a spot across her living room. “Mo would’ve been cautious with Goodwin. They had a contentious history. Beatrix caught him off guard. He would never have expected violence from her.”
The silence was heavy with grief and regret. Chris spoke to ease the moment. “I’m glad you were able to get justice for Maurice.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to without the two of you.” Sister Lou swept a hand between Chris and Shari. “Shari, your research was incredible.”
“You’re welcome, Sister Lou.” Shari blushed.
“And Chris, your contacts were invaluable.”
“I’m glad I was able to help, Aunt Lou.” Chris inclined his head. “I’m also glad we’ll never have to do anything like that again.”
“I agree.” Sister Lou looked from Chris to Shari and back. “But I can’t help thinking we were brought together for a reason.”
Shari gave Sister Lou an uncertain smile. “Like what?”
“Perhaps to help you realize your dream of becoming an investigative reporter.” Sister Lou turned to Chris. “Or to help you stop worrying about me.”
“That’ll never happen.” Chris’s tone was dry.
* * *
Tucked into a corner of the loveseat, Shari felt warm and cozy. Good food, good friends, and a job well done left her feeling very relaxed. She once again drew her attention from the small box on the sofa beside Chris. She should be more curious about it, but she didn’t have the energy.
She turned to Sister Lou. It was eerie, but Shari agreed with her. Fate had brought them together for a reason. “Does it really matter why?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Sister Lou smiled. “Whatever the reason was, it was God’s will.”
“Amen,” Chris said.
Sister Lou stood from her armchair. “And now, I have a little something for you to formally welcome you to the Briar Coast community.” She hurried from her living room and emerged from her bedroom with an orange-and-red patterned gift bag.
Suddenly energized, Shari uncurled from the loveseat and accepted the bag. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
Their friendship was the greatest gift she could ever ask for. OK, now she was getting maudlin. Shari distracted herself by digging into the bag. She plucked out the tissue paper and liberated a small potted plant with thick green leaves and pink, bell-shaped flowers.
She held up the pot. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“The Kalanchoe plants are sturdy. Like you.” Sister Lou’s lips curved in a teasing smile.
“That’s what I was going to get you, but Aunt Lou stole my idea.” The shaming look Chris gave Sister Lou made Shari laugh.
“You don’t own the idea of giving a plant as a housewarming gift.” Sister Lou rolled her eyes.
Whether they were arguing or joking, the love between aunt and nephew was unabashedly strong and warm. Shari felt special when they included her in their teasing, and even when they made her the target.
“Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.” Chris offered her the small box, wrapped in silver paper.
Shari frowned as she accepted the gift with cautious movements. It was the size of a jewelry box.
For Pete’s sake.
Was it a necklace? Or a bracelet? It was too big for earrings, or a ring. Thank goodness. But jewelry? They barely knew each other.
Shari’s eyes shifted to Sister Lou. In her mind, she screamed, “Help me!”
Sister Lou gave her a comforting smile. “Go ahead and open it, dear.” Subtext: It’ll be fine.
Shari took her friend at her unspoken words. She tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box. She nudged the tissue paper aside with her fingertips. Surprised laughter slipped past her lips and eased her discomfort. Lying inside the box was a small nightlight. The cover was stained plastic, molded to resemble one tiny, deep purple stiletto. She picked it up to study it more closely. The image charmed a smile from her.
I saw this and thought of you.
Shari’s heart melted. Her eyes met Chris’s. “It’s perfect, Slick.”
Chris grinned. “Welcome to Briar Coast.”
Sister Lou looked from Chris to Shari. “Welcome home, dear.”
Shari felt as though she’d finally found one after all these years. She managed a shaky smile and paraphrased a line from The Wizard of Oz. “There’s no place like it.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek at
PERIL & PRAYER
The next Sister Lou Mystery
Available July 2018
From Kensington Books
Chapter 1
“Can we all calm down?” The second the words left her lips, Sister Louise “Lou” LaSalle knew she’d poured accelerant on a campfire.
“I. Am. Calm.” Sister Marianna Tuller’s frosty gray gaze could freeze a volcanic eruption. She sat beside Sister Lou in the Briar Coast Cabin Resort owner’s office.
“So am I, Sister.” Autumn Tassler, the resort’s owner and manager, kept her attention on Sister Marianna. Despite her assurances, her periwinkle blue eyes crackled with irritation.
It was going to be a long Thursday morning.
Sister Lou made herself relax on the thin, scarlet-cushioned guest chair in front of Autumn’s large walnut desk. She and Sister Marianna were here to finalize the details of their congregation’s annual Advent retreat. Advent began on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. The Congregation of the Sisters of St. Hermione of Ephesus held an annual, week-long retreat beginning on the first Advent Sunday. That was a little more than four weeks away. Although the clock was ticking, they obviously weren’t going to make progress on the retreat planning today. The hostility swelling in the re
sort owner’s office was almost suffocating.
Sister Lou looked past the tidy stacks of paper sitting on Autumn’s desk and the mail rising from her inbox to focus on the office. The spacious, walnut room evoked a rustic cabin feel. It even smelled of pine from the bowl of potpourri Sister Lou had noticed on the bookcase across the room. A vivid, abstract throw rug was displayed on the wood floor. The framed artwork mounted to the walls celebrated nature: soaring mountains, mighty trees, rushing rivers, magnificent animals. Under different circumstances, Sister Lou would have enjoyed her surroundings.
“Let’s review our roles.” Sister Marianna sounded as though she was struggling for the calm she claimed to have. “I’m in charge of my congregation’s retreat. You’re the vendor we hired to provide the location and meals. The meals that we choose.”
There was a pause, as though Autumn was processing Sister Marianna’s words. “Sister, you and I both want your retreat to be a success. I believe the entrées I’m suggesting would be more enjoyable than plates of chopped vegetables and bottles of water.”
Sister Lou agreed. Sister Marianna’s health-conscious selections were punishments compared to Autumn’s recommendations.
How can I convince Marianna of that?
“This retreat isn’t a vacation.” Sister Marianna spoke with a precision that matched her tidy brick-red skirt suit. She fussed with the gray, black, and white patterned silk scarf around her neck, causing the garment to slide loose. “It’s a time of reflection and preparation for our minds, spirits, and bodies. Rich pastas and starchy, fatty foods aren’t conducive to that goal. Instead, we should make healthy meal choices.”
Hadn’t Sister Marianna heard the old axiom, “Everything in moderation”?
Autumn straightened on her chair as though mortally offended by Sister Marianna’s description of her menu recommendations. Her sudden flush almost matched her ruby-red sweater. “The meals I’m proposing aren’t rich, starchy, or fatty. Our chef uses fresh and healthy ingredients.”
“I read your menu proposals, Ms. Tassler.” Sister Marianna’s smile didn’t reach her cool gray gaze. She gripped one end of her scarf. “You can’t mean to compare the menus I’ve requested to the selections you’ve proposed.”
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