What a Nunderful World

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Can you tell me what you saw, Mr. Lapowski?”

  He cleared his throat and peered at me from hooded eyes. “He was carrying on about somebody named Mitzy and how she stole all his money and somethin’ about how she had it comin’, and that’s all I heard. Next thing I know, he was running out into the middle of the street, waving his arms in the air and, out of nowhere, a car came and plowed right into him! I’m telling you, lady, I heard his bones crunch, he hit that car so stinkin’ hard.”

  Wincing, I shivered at the visual. “Did you see what kind of car it was, or maybe who was driving?”

  He swiped his hands together. “Zoomed through here like a bat outta hell. I was so focused on the kid, I almost didn’t pay attention to the car, but as I recollect, it was black. Compact. But look up there…” He pointed to the peak in the roof of the hotel. “There’s a camera up there. Looks like that’s the right angle to catch the street, bet it’s got some footage.”

  “Was there anyone else out here with you? Did anyone else see what happened?” I looked out into the dark street. Dim lamps illuminated the sidewalk as the rain pelted against the colorful awning we stood under.

  “Just me and that girl who looks like a movie star,” he said, pointing at Coop who stood rooted to Knuckles’s and Goose’s sides.

  I stuck my hand out to him and smiled when he took it. “Thank you, Mr. Lapowski. Let me give you my card so you have my name if you remember anything else. I own a tattoo shop right here in Cobbler Cove, so I’m not very far. The police should be here any second now. Please make sure you tell them exactly what you told me. They’ll want to talk to you for an official statement. Will you be all right until then? Can I get you anything in the interim?”

  He shook his dark head with a confused frown. “Nah. I’m fine. I think I just want to get on a plane and go home to my wife and grandkids. This has been a really weird trip,” he grumbled, sticking his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks and driving his double chin into his buffalo plaid checked jacket, his small eyes full of worry.

  “I understand. But please wait for the officers before you do anything else. You don’t want to have to come all the way back from Idaho just to give a statement.”

  He gave me a curt nod as I left him, his face distorted with worry. That was when I saw the top of Tansy’s head, pushing her way through the crowd.

  Aw, man. I was going to get into trouble for sure.

  As she approached, I stepped around a group of people who’d gathered, hoping to avoid her.

  But she ended up cutting me off at the pass with a quick movement. “Evening, Trixie,” she said amicably.

  I smiled and waved, but I didn’t offer up anything about what Mr. Lapowski told me. There wasn’t really anything to offer anyway.

  “Evening, Tansy. I’m on my way in to eat my dinner. Nice to see you.”

  “Hold it right there, Angela Lansbury,” she warned with an inquiring eyebrow. “What are you doing here of all the places in Cobbler Cove?”

  I pointed to the inside of the hotel. “I’m on my way inside to have my dinner. Higgs is waiting on me.”

  Which wasn’t really a lie, was it?

  Tansy gave me a skeptical look, her eyes critical. “Coincidence that you’re here in the middle of a hit-and-run where all these makeup people have gathered?”

  “Totally,” I responded, giving her my best innocent glance. “Coop was out here, catching a breath of fresh air before our dinner arrived, and she saw the hit-and-run. She came and got me after she called 9-1-1. I’m sure she’ll give you a statement. And that’s it. I was here with Higgs and Coop inside the restaurant before it happened. You can ask our waiter, Gary.”

  That was true, too. Coop had been out here when Ames was hit, and I had been inside. No lies detected today.

  Tansy’s face softened for a minute, her lips curling into a smile. “You’re still angry about earlier today.”

  Shaking my head, I looked her right in the eye as I drove my hands into the pockets of my puffy vest. “I’m not going to tell you I’m not disappointed—because I am. But angry? No, ma’am. I’m not angry. I know you’re just looking out for me, and I don’t want to be the cause of any stress. Now, I’m going to have to gnaw your arm off if I don’t get something to eat soon. So please have someone question Coop and take her statement so I don’t die of starvation.”

  Lifting her chin, she gave me a curt nod with suspicious eyes. “Far be it from me to keep a lady from her supper. As you were, Miss Marple.”

  She stepped back out of the way and I blew out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding as I made my way toward Coop, who was giving her statement to Oz.

  Look, I don’t want to lie to Tansy, but I’d like to think my conversation with Susie was organic and private, and I didn’t want to say anything about her pregnancy and Luca unless it became absolutely necessary because this wasn’t a murder investigation yet, right?

  The trouble was, no one would tell me if it was necessary.

  As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t have to tell Tansy anything because a drama vlogger from Dish and Makeup took care of it for me. The guilt that ate at me all night long about whether I should take what I’d learned from Susie to Tansy, keeping me from sleep, was for naught. The bags under my eyes for having such a sensitive secret under my belt all for nothing.

  Because Coop sat next to me at our dining room table, her mouth a thin line as she played a video on her laptop, uploaded in the wee hours of the morning, and when I caught my first glimpse of the vlogger, I gasped.

  “Isn’t that the girl I saw in the restaurant with the makeup gurus? She was the one with her leg on the table, right?”

  A tiny sprite of a girl with a dark auburn pixie haircut and full red lips looked back at me from her hotel room as she recapped the rehashed tea from Susie-Susie and her breakup with Luca at gory length.

  I blanched at Coop’s next words. ”Yes. That’s her, all right. Her name is Corinne, and she’s probably the meanest of the bunch when it comes to wreaking havoc. She takes pleasure in other people’s pain.”

  “Hah!” Livingston chirped on a whistle. “I knew a lad in Hell. Name was Gorgan; of all the names in the word, his dear old ma chose that ugly duckling, she did. Anyway, he enjoyed another’s pain, too. One time, when we were all in the pit—”

  “Livingston,” Coop chastised as she paused the video and glared at him. “Do not speak of the pit. It was an awful, awful place where hideous things happened, and we mustn’t bring that kind of negativity into our home. It has no place here.”

  But Livingston bristled, his feathers lifting as he spread his wings in indignation. “Oh, for the love of Shamus, Coopie. I’m in the middle of tellin’ Trixie a tale. Why do you always interrupt when I’m gettin’ to the good parts?”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “Because stories of the pit aren’t for human consumption. I don’t ever want Trixie or Higgs to hear of the atrocities that occurred there. Now hush and let us hear what Corinne has to say. This is more important than your pit woes.” She clicked play again and, as I listened, my eyes widened.

  “That’s right, my little tea drinkers, it’s your girl Corinne, and the tea is hot and scalding today for sure!” She pretended to sip from an imaginary cup as she gazed coyly into the camera then smiled slyly. “So prepare for your eyeballs to roll to the back of your heads because word on the street is…” She paused for a moment and leaned into the camera, her eyes glittering salaciously. “Susie Masters has a bun in the oven—and it ain’t a breakfast roll, kiddies!”

  All the blood drained from my face. Oh dear.

  This Corinne began telling over eight hundred thousand of her YT subscribers that Susie was pregnant and Luca was the father.

  I blanched, my head spinning. How had she gotten her hands on this information?

  “Trixie?” Coop said, nudging my shoulder. “Did you hear what she said?”

  My head moved up and down in a s
low nod. “Yes,” was the only word I could manage. Oh, poor Susie.

  Tapping her finger on the table, Coop redirected my attention. “She told you this information about her pregnancy, didn’t she?”

  Blowing out a breath, I confessed. “She did. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but she asked me to keep it private, Coop. A confidence is a confidence. I tried to honor that as I warred with whether the information would help Tansy. But seeing as there’s no official investigation into Mitzy’s death yet, I decided I could keep it to myself. But I promise you, I’d encourage her to tell Tansy if they decide this was murder.”

  Coop gave me a blank stare, but it was a sincere one, filled with her special brand of genuineness. “I understand, Trixie Lavender, and I believe you, of course. It’s very sensitive information. This is why I’d trust you with anything, because you can keep a confidence.”

  You bet your bippy I could. Gosh, this was awful. Poor Susie. “So how the heck did Corinne find out?”

  “If you listen to the video, she claims it was from an anonymous source.”

  My coffee bubbled in my belly like toxic waste. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should call Susie and inquire about her state of mind, see if she was okay, or if I should simply pretend I didn’t see this video of Corinne and her scalding-hot tea.

  Oh! If I never heard those inane words again, I wouldn’t be sorry. To obliterate someone’s private life just to garner subscribers infuriated me.

  Hopping up from the table, I began to pace our wood floors, gnawing on my fingernail. “This is awful, Coop. She told me that in confidence, and she said she hasn’t told anyone else for obvious reasons.”

  “Did Susie also tell you her age, too?”

  My eyes flew open, and I had to grip the back of one of our dining room chairs. “She did…” I muttered in horror.

  What the heck was happening here? It almost felt like someone had been listening in on our conversation.

  Coop scoffed. “I’d have never believed she was thirty, Trixie. Would you?”

  Oh, hellfire and damnation—someone had to have been listening to us. It was only then that it occurred to me Corinne or maybe one of her spies had been in a stall, and neither Susie nor I had checked them to see if they were occupied.

  “Oh, Coop. This is awful.”

  “That Susie’s thirty?”

  “No! That she’s pregnant and now everyone knows before she was ready to tell them. She didn’t want Luca to know, Coop. Argh! I could just scream. I’d bet you my half of the shop someone was hiding in those stalls, listening to our conversation. Ooo, if I get my hands on this Corinne, I can’t promise I won’t—”

  “Trixie Lavender, no violence. That’s not the answer,” Coop reprimanded me, closing her laptop. “Corinne does some very unsavory things to get her hands on a story. So if it was her, I wouldn’t be surprised. I only know I don’t remember if she was at the table when I stomped off in a huff, but if it was her, hiding in the bathroom, you may not take physical action.”

  I couldn’t remember either—which is very unlike me.

  I smiled at Coop despite how annoyed I was with Miss Dish and Makeup. She was learning to recognize her reactions, good and bad, to situations with a very mature eye.

  “Don’t be silly, Coop. I would never hurt Corinne. I might give her a good what for, but physically accost her? That’s not my style.”

  Unless we were talking about the Artur in me. He didn’t mind a physical altercation at all. He made me wonder if his manifestation had something to do with a part of me that was frustrated from holding back all those years in the convent. Maybe that’s why he’s so violent.

  But every time I tried to think about the whys and wherefores, I stopped myself. Quite frankly, Artur frightened me. His anguish, his anger, the things he did when he possessed me, were so totally the opposite of me and how I tried to go about my life that when I heard Coop tell me what I’d done, it was almost like listening to an outlandish story about someone else.

  Shaking off my maudlin thoughts, I tried to decide whether I should contact Susie and see if she needed anything. We hadn’t heard many details on Ames’s condition other than he was in ICU in serious condition, which is exactly what Corinne, busy bee that she was, happened to be talking about I her video when my phone rang with Knuckles on the other end.

  “Trixie girl? You need to get in here fast!”

  The panic in his voice made me stand up straight and pay attention. “What’s wrong, Knuckles?”

  “Do you know somebody named Susie Masters?” I heard a bit of a scuffle and some loud voices, but I couldn’t make out what was being said.

  “I do. I met her last night in the ladies’ room at the hotel. What’s happening, Knuckles?”

  “You’d better get here before she scares away all the customers, Trixie!” he yelled into the phone. “She’s on a tear, and it has your name on it. She’s screamin’ and yellin’ at us. Poor Goose is hidin’ in the corner, scared half out of his mind. She demanded I call you and, in her words, ‘tell that lying, cheating, backstabbing phony I’m going to kill her!’”

  The blood drained from my face for the second time today. Maybe Coop should be having her talk about violence with Susie…

  Chapter 11

  “You want me to call the police, Trix?” Knuckles huffed into the phone.

  “No!” I almost yelled then lowered my voice. “No. Don’t call the police. I’ll be right there. Please tell her to wait for me.” I clicked my phone off and grabbed my coat. “I have a small emergency at the shop, Coop. Do you want to come with?”

  She looked as though she wanted to do anything but—today, her disillusionment was realer than ever. When Coop loved, she loved hard, and these people had really hit home how ugly the world could be. I guess it’s one thing to see it in a video, but quite another to physically witness it firsthand.

  Coop looked down at her hands, her eyes almost sad. “I think I might stay here today, if you don’t mind, Trixie. I’m still feeling a little blue and I’m beginning to wonder if Tansy wasn’t right. Maybe Mitzy’s death was an accident and there’s nothing to investigate. Rather, there’s just ashes of my disappointment to sift through at this point.”

  Aw, man. I hated this. She’d reached the dramatic stage of her idol worship, where the idol had indeed fallen and she couldn’t overlook their blatant faults, and it hurt. Her answer was to express herself in melodramatic words, likely because she couldn’t cry. But if she kept this up, she was going to make me cry.

  I reached over and wrapped my arms around her shoulders from behind and gave her a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, Coop. This has been a hard lesson to learn. Not everything is as it seems.”

  “Are you still feeling disillusioned, Coopie-Coop?” Livingston asked. “I know how much you loved the lasses and their face paint. I hate seein’ ya so disappointed. Come sit with me and let ol’ Livingston tell ya some stories about when he was just a lad in Ireland. It’ll take yer mind off yer troubles.”

  She gripped my arm back before she said, “You go handle things at the shop, Trixie. I’ll be fine. Livingston will tell me one of his silly stories and it’ll cheer me up.”

  Dropping a kiss on Coop’s despondent head, I flew out the door, throwing my purse over my head as I jumped in our brand-new car. We had to lay the old Caddy to rest and I’d done it with tears in my eyes. She’d been so good to us.

  She’d gotten us all over Washington and Oregon with nary a glitch, but her time had passed and when she left us stranded on 205, we had to call it a day. Now, we were the proud owners of a Subaru—one of the more common vehicles in the Pacific Northwest—and I loved it.

  The whole way to the shop, my heart slammed around in my chest as I wondered what I’d done to Susie to anger her so—even as I fret over Coop’s disenchantment with Ames and the others.

  Fool that I am, it never occurred to me Susie’d think I was responsible for leaking this mess to Corinne.<
br />
  Well, let me tell you—talk about blindsided.

  The moment I entered the shop and saw Susie, who sat on our colorful couch with clenched teeth and wild eyes, an Inked magazine next to her, I knew she wanted her pound of flesh. When she saw me, she flew at me, her finger in the air.

  “I should have known! I should have known better than to tell a complete stranger something so sensitive. I’ll never learn! There isn’t a single soul alive who isn’t out for some cash,” she sneered at me. “You sold me out, Trixie Whatever-Your-Name-Is! You sold me out, and now I’m going to have to deal with that moron Luca and the fallout from all these dumb kids because you’re a snitch!”

  Tears fell down her splotchy, makeup-free face, making me feel even worse, despite not being the guilty party.

  “Hold on there, lady!” Knuckles thundered, rushing from the back of the store, his boots clapping against the tile. “I let you wait there as long as you were quiet, but you’re not gonna go around callin’ the boss here a liar and a snitch. She’s the most honest person you’ll ever meet! Now, you can take yourself right out that door and don’t let it hit you in your keister, missy, or I’m going to call the po—”

  “Knuckles, no!” I bellowed, holding up a hand between them. “Settle down and let me handle this. Please. I’m fine.”

  Knuckles’s nose flared and his chest rose and fell beneath his Grateful Dead T-shirt, but he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and asked, “You sure, Trixie girl? She’s just lookin’ for a fight, and I won’t have that here in our place of business. She lays one finger on you and—”

  I placed a calming hand on his broad chest to stop his tirade. “It’s okay, Knuckles. Please. Go deal with your clients.”

  Knuckles’s eyes questioned mine. “I’m fine. I promise. Go.”

  As he took his leave, I turned to face Susie, imploring her to look at me. “Susie, as I stand here before you, in all my ex-nun-ness, I absolutely did not leak that information to Corinne. I swear it. I would never do that. Never.”