House of the Rising Nun

by Dakota Cassidy

  “I most certainly do not. I was over on the dance floor with Officer Meadows. We were dancing, thank you very much.” Then a thought occurred to me. Tansy wasn’t running around, barking orders to the party attendees. “Say, are you automatically on duty when a crime happens while you’re on personal time?”

  She lifted her chin, the big green bow on top of her head bouncing. “Not officially, no, but surely this will be handed off to me tomorrow morning. So you can’t blame a girl for hoping you’d already have the answer to what’s occurred, can you?” she asked, her tone as light as her British accent while she eyed the woman dressed as a nurse, who was now sitting in a chair, being fanned by someone dressed as a surgeon.

  I sighed, my shoulders slumping. I was never going to live down my reputation with the Cobbler Cove PD after Coop and I had been involved in two murder investigations since we’d come to Portland, in a matter of months—and that’s even not including the one we were witness to in Ebenezer Falls.

  None of which I can legitimately declare I’d solved. As you already know, I wasn’t even close. Mostly, I bumbled around in the dark until I got lucky and tripped over something I never meant to stumble upon. So I wasn’t sure how I adopted legendary sleuth status when I’d made a mess of everything.

  “Not you, too?” I said on a moan, my shoulders slumping forward. “Are you still grudging?”

  Her blue eyes danced under the eerie lights. “Oh, indeed, me too, Miss Legend. And no grudge to speak of, love. Nay. In fact, I’m thinking of making you an honorary detective. Any tips you want to hand down to help me solve this? For the sake of girl power, of course.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her and shook my finger in a teasing manner. “Rumors of my legendary status are greatly exaggerated, and you know it. Frankly, I don’t think I want to have to live up to that kind of pressure.”

  “Well, bloody why not? I’d expect you to have this sewn up by now, Sister Trixie. Time’s wasting.” She tapped the watch at her wrist for emphasis with an almost fiendish giggle.

  “My love? Why do you tease this poor creature so?” the man next to Tansy asked with an indulgent smile. “And who is this lovely vision in red, anyway?”

  Tansy patted the man’s chest with a loving hand. “This, Marvin, is Cobbler Cove’s answer to Sherlock Holmes, and my arch crime-solving nemesis, Sister Trixie Lavender. She owns the tattoo shop I mentioned, and she’s solved not one but two murders.”

  So this was the elusive Marvin I’d heard so much about but hadn’t yet encountered? Marvin, as British as Tansy, took my hand and bowed his head before gazing deeply into my eyes with a smile that took over his entire face. “You are just as arch and as nemesis as my lovely wife said. I’m Marvin Primrose. The pleasure is indeed all mine.”

  His accent was more pronounced than Tansy’s, but just as delightful. I grinned up at his handsome face and admired his light brown eyes. “I honestly thought you were a myth, like Bigfoot or the Abominable Snowman, but here you are. Right before my very eyes. It’s wonderful to meet you, Marvin. I’m Trixie Lavender, no sister required.”

  He threw his graying head back and laughed, his warm hand releasing mine. “You’ve given my Tansy quite a run for her money, I hear. She grouses about you almost daily.”

  My smile got wider as I took in the entirety of his seasoned but debonair face. “Well, I like to keep the Cobbler Cove Police on their toes.”

  As I spoke the words, I heard the familiar strains of sirens and began to look around for Coop and the rest of the gang. I’m not sure what it is lately, but I constantly need to reassure myself everyone is all right and safe.

  Maybe it’s all the murder I’ve witnessed as of late?

  Or maybe it was the hushed whispers and muted conversations going on around me as everyone speculated this also might, in fact, be a murder?

  Tansy went off to greet her colleagues with Marvin in tow, still leaving me with several people standing in front of the dead person. I didn’t want to look like a rubbernecker, for pity’s sake, so it wasn’t as though I could push my way through and see who it was for myself. That would be gawking.

  Higgs finally took a step toward me, but the crowd had shifted once more and still I couldn’t see who was in the chair, but the body appeared as though it were slumped forward, judging by the dangle of the victim’s arm. That didn’t give me much to go on, other than it looked like a male arm, and what I could see of it indicated he had some greenish makeup on his hand.

  “So do you know who it is?” I asked him, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from tackling him to move his bulky frame out of my way to find out for myself.

  Gosh, that sounds horrible, but I am who I am, and I’m nothing if not curious. But by no means do I want to see what’s behind Higgs because I enjoy viewing a dead body. Make no mistake. I’m not that ghoulish. I want to see so I can determine if I can offer my help to a family member or friend—or even the police.

  After all, I did find some incriminating evidence in the last investigation. I’m not torn a million different ways like the police are when it comes to investigating a crime because they have more than one to handle. I have the occasional bout of time on my hands and laser focus.

  “I don’t know who it is, Trixie. I’m sorry to say, I’ve spent more time schmoozing for donations than I have seeing who was dressed in what. I didn’t get a close look, and he’s in costume, to boot. But it’s definitely a male, judging from the size of his shoes and body type.”

  Unfortunately, nothing I didn’t already know.

  My head swiveled around as I took in the rest of the room. Someone had turned the music off and the lights up, leaving a bunch of stricken faces with wide eyes of horror.

  “Have you seen Coop? Knuckles and Goose?”

  Higgs pointed over my head in the area of the snack table. “All together and all safe.” He paused then before asking, “Are you okay, Sister Trixie?”

  I frowned as I looked up at his heavily made-up face. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re dying a little inside, aren’t you?”

  Gosh, he knew me so well. Still, I deflected. “What do you mean by that, mister?”

  “I mean you’re dying to see what’s just beyond this group of people, and it’s killing you not to ask me to step aside.”

  A very fair and righteous statement if I’d ever heard one. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “Am not.”

  Oh, but I was. I hated it, but my curiosity was beyond piqued. I just wasn’t going to give Higgs the satisfaction.

  His eyes twinkled at me, the eyeshadow on his lids especially sparkly. “Are so—and I’ll move, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t make jokes about my butt. These booty shorts make me crazy self-conscious.”

  A snort flew from my mouth. “I would never fat shame you, Higgs. Never, ever. How could you even think that? Now move.” I reached around his waist to move him over, but he stood rooted to the spot.

  He reached for my arm with a chuckle, grabbing it at the bend in my elbow. “One more thing.”

  I forced the impatience out of my voice so as not to appear anxious. “What now, Higgs?”

  He gripped my shoulders, forcing my attention to stay focused on him while his eyes pinned mine. “I want you to promise me something, Trixie.”

  As the police rushed in and more activity swelled around us, I knew I was going to miss my chance to see what happened if we didn’t hurry this along.

  I was growing more impatient by the second, but I wasn’t going to let Higgs see that. “Promise you what? That I’ll be your date to the prom? Give you my first-born? My—”

  “Wait, you want children?” Then he shook his head, his ponytail swishing against his back. “Forget I asked that. That’s a conversation for later. I only want you to promise me this—if this is a crime scene, if this person didn’t die of natural causes and you’re going to get involve
d because you can’t help yourself, you’ll never go anywhere—see dark abandoned warehouses and lunatic people with guns—alone again.”

  I grinned and gave him a light punch to his arm. “I already told you, that was an honest mistake. I didn’t plan on being caught. I fell. Literally.”

  He let go of my arm and grinned back. “I know what you said, and I want to believe you, but I also want you to realize I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, and while I understand you were trying to help Knuckles see the truth of that woman and scared ten years off my life in the process, I also know a tiny part of you loves the chase. All I’m asking is a promise to be careful and call me if you ever need anything.”

  My cheeks burned hot again at his words. “We don’t even know what happened to him, Higgs. You’re probably worried over nothing. But I love that you’re worried about me and my safety. Above all, I appreciate it—and you.”

  He leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on my cheek. “I’m going to go check on the guys. I’m sure you’ll be fine, Nancy Drew.”

  “Hey,” I called quietly, putting my hand on his chest. “I’m sorry this happened at your party. I know how much tonight meant to you.”

  His face went grim. “I’m sorry someone’s dead. But the party, while it lasted, was a hit. Just look at how many shelter guys showed up, Trixie. Guys I thought would rather have their eyes popped out than be around a bunch of local officials and cops. That’s thanks in part to you and Coop and the guys from Inkerbelle’s.”

  I flapped my hand at him and looked past his shoulder. “I didn’t do anything. Nothing you didn’t do, anyway. We make a good team.”

  He looked down at me then, his gaze serious despite his hilarious false eyelashes. “What did I do before you came into my life, Sister Trixie?”

  I winced on the inside. I was so much better at joking with him. When things got too close, when they made my belly tingle, I became a turtle, poking my head back in my shell as though no one but Higgs had ever paid me a compliment, and I didn’t understand what that meant.

  “Well, I imagine it was quieter and you ate more cheeseburgers because you didn’t have a naggy ex-nun around to tell you to eat more salads.”

  He cocked his head at me and laughed. “That is a fair statement. I’ve definitely had more rabbit food in my life as of late. Okay, I’m off to check on the guys. Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?”

  I smiled up at him. “You bet.”

  As he made his way toward a group of the men who frequented the shelter, I zipped past the three or four people blocking my view of the dead man and almost ran right into a Cobbler Cove police officer, asking questions of the nurse who’d discovered the body in the first place.

  And that’s when I saw him—the dead man. Dressed as a zombie with his fake intestines hanging out of his stomach and his exposed skin covered in makeup to give him a greenish-gray pallor.

  He was slumped over at the small table, a pool of orange punch under his cheek, his arms hanging at his sides, his gray and black hair ruffled as though someone had grabbed a thatch of it and yanked his head back on his neck.

  I gasped, ignoring the people milling about and the chaos of the police ordering everyone to stay put and hand over their cell phones.

  My heart tightened in my chest. Coop would be absolutely crushed.

  Because the dead man was Dr. Mickey.

  Chapter 4

  “I’m so sorry, Coop. Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”

  By now, she’d pulled her habit off and dropped it on a nearby table, and though she couldn’t physically express her distress, I knew it was there by her posture and in the way she clenched her teeth.

  Her fists tightened. “Do you think someone hurt him, Trixie? I liked Dr. Mickey. He was my friend. He said I had nice teeth, and he cared enough to teach me how to take care of them. He’s why I brush my tongue.”

  I looped my arm through hers and squeezed her tight. “You have nice everything, Coop, and I liked Dr. Mickey, too. He was a wonderful soul who gave of himself and his skills freely.”

  Her beautiful face went harder than normal, her green eyes glittering with discontent. “If someone hurt him, if that turns out to be true, I’ll use King Arthur and eviscerate them. I’ll chop them up into little—”

  “Coop!” I hissed in her ear, tugging at her arm. “I realize you’re angry and hurt, but we don’t know what happened yet. You can’t talk like that in polite company. Let me poke around a bit before we go disemboweling people with King Arthur, okay?”

  Her deadpan gaze met my concerned one. “I didn’t say disembowel. I said eviscerate. There’s a distinct difference.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Tomato-tomahtoe, young lady. Now go find Livingston and make sure he’s not terrorizing someone, and I’ll see what I can see, okay?”

  Coop reached out and gripped my shoulder. “Thank you, Trixie Lavender. Sincerely.”

  I patted her hand, my focus torn between concern for her and what everyone around me was whispering about. “You bet.”

  First things first, I had to determine if Dr. Mickey—whose full name was Dr. Michael Welch, by the by—had really been murdered or something else had happened. He was a bit young to have had a heart attack, but being in your late forties and going into cardiac arrest wasn’t unheard of.

  I moved carefully about the floor of the rec room as I listened to the conversations around me by the people who’d been nearby when the nurse had discovered he was dead.

  She was whom I zeroed in on, slipping past a group of officers to stand behind the big Frankenstein as she talked to an officer, and I blatantly eavesdropped.

  Her pretty face was streaked in tears, the tracks of her mascara bleeding from her wet eyes. “I don’t know what happened! One minute I was off grabbing us a plate of food, and he was fine. I swear, he was fine! We’d been laughing and chatting about the office, and one particular patient we virtually have to retrieve from her car to get her inside, she’s so afraid of the dentist, and the next, I come back and he’s dead. I thought he’d passed out, but he’s not a drinker. It didn’t make any sense. I can’t believe he’s dead!”

  The officer, a short but sturdy fellow with a moustache, nodded his dark head as he wrote something on a pad. “So you work with Dr. Welch, Miss Stanford?”

  She nodded her head, pulling off her nurse’s cap and shoving it in the pocket of her lab coat with a disgusted look. “I do. I chose this costume because all I had to do was buy the hat. I left from the office to come to the party, and I’m not much of a fan of costumes anyway. Dr. Welch teased me about it and how little effort I’d put into my costume after he’d gone…after he’d gone to such great lengths to…dress up and make it fun… He came to the office dressed like that to…day. I…” She didn’t finish her sentence before she began to sob, her face red and swollen.

  I can’t stand to see someone in such pain, so I took my cue and headed in the nurse’s direction. Reaching out, I put my hand on her shoulder. “Hello there, Miss Stanford. I’m Trixie Lavender. I own the tattoo shop called Inkerbelle’s. I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can get you? Some water, perhaps?” I asked, pulling tissues from my purse.

  She took the tissues from me and shook her head and sniffed. “No, but please call me Nadia, and thank you,” she said, taking the tissues and dabbing at her swollen eyes. “I know who you are, Trixie. Dr. Welch always spoke so highly of you. He said you were wonderful with the men here at the shelter when the time came for them to have their teeth cleaned. If they were frightened, you’d stay and hold their hands. That was very kind of you.”

  My smile was one of deep sympathy as I squeezed her hand. “We loved Dr. Mickey. He was such a genuine soul, and so fun. He made my lifelong fear of the dentist just disappear.”

  She hiccupped a cough, her shoulders shaking. “He had a way, didn’t he? I can’t believe he’s dead. I just can’t believe it…”

  The officer nodded his head in symp
athy. “I understand you’re upset, Miss Stanford, but can you answer a few more questions for me?”

  “I’ll stay, if you’d like,” I offered as her grip tightened on my hand, her fingers cold and clammy.

  “Would you?” Nadia asked on a gulp, clinging to my fingers.

  I patted her hand and nodded. “Of course. Is that all right, Officer?”

  He gave me a curt nod before addressing Nadia again. “Miss Stanford, did Dr. Welch have any health issues you knew of?” the officer—an Officer Lang, as it read on his badge—asked.

  She inhaled a long gulp of air, her breaths shuddering in and out as her chest rose and fell. “None that I know of. I’ve worked for him for almost eight years, and he never missed a day unless he took vacation. He played golf and tennis, and he hiked regularly. He was in tip-top shape. In fact, we used to tease him about how he was going to outlive us all…”

  “Did you see anything unusual? Anyone unusual around him tonight? Anyone giving him any kind of trouble?”

  Instantly her eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. “Unusual? Why would there be anyone unusual around him? Dr. Welch was the nicest man I know. Everyone loved him. What exactly are you implying?”

  I squeezed her hand again in reassurance. “Officer Lang’s merely doing his due diligence, Nadia. He has to ask questions that cover all angles, even if they’re sometimes upsetting. It’s standard, right, Officer Lang?”

  He smiled at her and nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am. I’m just gathering information, Miss Stanford. I know this is distressing, but I won’t be a minute longer than I have to be. Promise.”

  Nadia let go of my hand then and appeared to relax with the officer, but I stayed near, one ear open.

  I saw Knuckles and Goose working their way across the floor toward me, excusing themselves as they moved in and out of the groups of people.

  Knuckles reached me first and put an arm around me as Officer Lang continued to ask Nadia questions.

  He dipped his head down and whispered, “You okay, Trixie girl?”