And Then There Were Nuns

by Kylie Logan

  These were not old; they were clean, new, set on the chair as if someone wanted to be able to get at them quickly, and covered with the blanket to keep them from prying eyes.

  A pair of jeans.

  A black leather jacket.

  A pair of Nikes.

  And a box of hair color the Clairol folks called Dark Caramel Brown.

  10

  The last person I expected to show up with Hank was Levi.

  I guess that would explain why I stopped dead halfway to the top of the stairway where I’d thought to welcome Hank and, instead, watched—sucker-punched and speechless—as he and Levi climbed the stairs into the Water’s Edge attic.

  “Thought Levi might be able to help.” Hank’s clipped explanation went along with the look he tossed over his shoulder at Levi, who was decidedly dryer than when I saw him last—and in worn jeans and a black-and-white short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a black T-shirt, every bit as delicious looking as I remembered.

  I whacked the thought out of my head.

  Delicious is as delicious does, and this Mr. Delicious had done me wrong. There was no way I was going to forget it, and there was no way I was going to let him forget that I wasn’t going to forget it.

  I set my shoulders and raised my chin. “I didn’t know we needed help.”

  Hank’s shrug was barely discernable in the gathering gloom. There was only one window in this part of the attic and it faced the back of the house. Through it, I saw the sun slip below the horizon in a fiery ball of Halloween jack-o’-lantern orange and on land, the sweep of flashlights as the other police officers Hank had brought along looked around the garden for any sign of Sister Helene. Hank, too, had a flashlight with him, and he turned it on and arced the beam all around. “Looks like nobody’s been up here for about fifty years.”

  “That part of the attic, yes.” I waved toward the expanse to my right where his shaft of light barely penetrated the inky shadows. “I looked around over there after I called you. There’s no sign that anyone’s been there. But over this way . . .” I led Hank to the chair and steamer trunk, sidling between him and Levi without so much as a glance at the man who had once been the man of my dreams.

  And I’m not talking about Hank.

  “You’ll notice the footprints in the dust,” I said, training my light—and my thoughts—that way. “Those . . .” I used the light to point them out. “Those are mine. You can tell because I’ve got boots on and they’ve got a little heel.” I lifted one foot so Hank could see my boots were a match to the marks on the floor. “See, you can see the imprint of the sole of my shoe and the imprint of the heel. These other footprints . . .” I turned my light on them. “See how wide and flat they are? I’d say the person who made them was wearing sneakers or some other flat shoe.”

  “Probably.” Hank took a closer look. “And they lead . . .”

  “Right over here to this chair.” When I called Hank and asked him to stop over at Water’s Edge as soon as he could, I’d told him what I’d found, but even so, I backed up and let him have a look at the scene. I’d replaced the blanket so everything was exactly as I’d found it and I kept my eyes on him when he looked things over, even though I could feel Levi’s gaze on me. It prickled over my neck and slid down my black sweater and back up again, landing on my face and staying there.

  All the more reason for me to remain stone-faced and silent.

  Hank pulled back the blanket from the chair, coughed, and waved away a cloud of dust. “Pants, jacket, shoes, hair color. They all look new.”

  “Exactly what I thought.”

  “Someone could have left that stuff here before the nuns arrived.”

  The comment came from Levi, and though I refused to spare him a look, I couldn’t let it go by without a response. Especially since it was so far off base.

  “The only other people who’ve been here since the retreat center opened were a group of rabbis, all men, and some Buddhist monks. Also all men if what Elias told me before the nuns got here is true.” I aimed the comment at Hank and Hank only. “He said he was looking forward to having women in the house because he was anxious to get a feminine perspective on the renovations. I know what you’re going to say.” I held up a hand, not sure if I was telling Hank or Levi to put a sock in it, but knowing one of them was sure to speak up. “Elias could have easily left this stuff up here. But he has his own suite down on the second floor. If he needed clothing or hair color, why would he bring it up here?”

  “He could have been hiding it from someone,” Levi ventured.

  “He lives alone,” I countered.

  “He might have been trying to surprise someone.”

  “Really?” For the first time, I dared a look at the man who’d been my lover such a short time before. As always, there was an invisible electrical current that ran between me and Levi. In the past, it had always crackled with unspoken attraction. That evening, it was more of the electric fence variety and it said Keep Out better than any sign.

  Which was fine by me.

  “That’s kind of a stretch,” I growled.

  Levi set his mouth in a thin line.

  I turned away and watched Hank poke through the items on the chair.

  “You think one of the nuns left this stuff up here.” Hank glanced at me over his shoulder. “Why?”

  “It’s a disguise, of course.” Levi answered before I could. “Maybe that missing nun, that Sister . . .”

  “Helene.” My clenched teeth bit the name in half.

  “Helene,” Levi conceded. “If she killed Sister Sheila—”

  I threw my hands in the air. “You told me not to tell anyone about the murder, Hank. Looks like you’ve been spreading the news yourself.”

  Hank stood up straight and cast an eagle-eyed glance from me to Levi. “You two want to tell me what’s going on?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest.

  Levi stepped back, his weight against one foot.

  Hank sucked on his bottom lip. “All right, then, you want to pretend everything is hunky-dory, that’s what we’ll do. But next time you two are in the same room together, remind me to bring a parka.” His piece said and our reception to it colder than ever, Hank turned back to his work.

  “Levi could be right,” he said. “If this nun, Helene, is our murderer, she might have wanted to slip off the island and not let anybody know. A disguise would be just the thing.”

  “It would be. But not in this case.” I picked up the box of hair color. “Dark Caramel Brown makes perfect sense. Sister Helene has silver hair and the dark dye would have covered that. But the clothes—”

  “Nobody would look for a nun to be wearing jeans and a leather jacket,” Levi cut in.

  Aggravation bristled up my spine and shivered along my shoulders. I set my jaw. “Nobody would look for a nun to be wearing jeans and a leather jacket if the nun didn’t dress in street clothes,” I told him. “If you were paying attention to the nuns downstairs, you would have noticed that some of them wear traditional habits and some dress just like the rest of us. Sister Helene doesn’t wear a habit.”

  Hank cocked his head. “Which means—”

  “That she wouldn’t need to not look like a nun because she already doesn’t look like a nun.”

  “Well, that explains it,” Levi grumbled.

  And darned if I was going to ask what that was and what it explained.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to. Hank did that for me.

  “Sent Levi over to the ferry dock,” he said. “You know, to talk to Jayce.”

  “To ask if he’d seen a nun leaving for the mainland, now that the ferry is operating again.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Levi nodded. “He said he hadn’t.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to point out that only men would make such a quick judgment without co
nsidering the fashion implications. Instead, I kept my voice level, even if my words did sting with unspoken criticism. “Because Jayce was thinking of a nun in traditional dress. No way he would have identified Sister Helene as a nun. She wore—”

  The thought bounced around in my head and stopped so abruptly, it took my words with it. I stepped closer to the cache of clothing. “She wouldn’t fit into these,” I said, lifting the jeans so I could check them out. “Sister Helene probably wears a size twelve or a fourteen. These are eights.”

  “Which doesn’t tell us anything about Helene McMurty, but does tell us these clothes aren’t from our missing nun.” Hank took the jeans out of my hands and checked the pockets and when he came up empty, he tossed the jeans back on the chair. “Maybe none of it means squat. Maybe—”

  Whatever else Hank had to say, he was interrupted when someone called to him from the bottom of the stairs. “We’ve been through the whole house, Chief. No sign of her.”

  Hank grunted. “Missing nun. Dead nun. Clothes that don’t belong to anyone.” He stomped down the stairs. “I’d like to know what’s going on around here.”

  Since I did, too, I started to follow him and would have made it if Levi hadn’t put a hand on my arm.

  I yanked my arm away.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “We’ve already done that.” As far as I was concerned, that was the end of it. I spun around and honestly, nothing on earth would have stopped me from going right downstairs.

  Except when Levi said, “Bea,” there was a catch of emotion in his voice. One I was powerless to resist.

  I told myself not to be a fool and just for good measure, reminded myself not to forget it, and it was only after I was sure I wouldn’t that I allowed myself to turn around.

  “I didn’t know what was going to happen. Not when I first talked to Jason back in New York and took the job,” Levi said. “I only knew you by reputation. Famous author. Big star. Huge celebrity.”

  “I doubt the way to any woman’s heart is to call her huge.”

  His smile came and went. Or maybe now that Hank and his flashlight were gone and the only light in the attic was from my phone, I was imagining the softening of his expression.

  I wasn’t imagining the voice inside my head that told me to keep mine poker-faced.

  “Have you talked to Jason recently?” I asked Levi.

  “You mean—”

  “I mean since I fired him this afternoon.” I will admit, the momentary look of surprise that crossed Levi’s face was mighty satisfying. “It’s too bad for him, really,” I went on, “because that man’s made millions thanks to me. Apartment in the city, house in the Hamptons, college for his kids. He didn’t take the news well, but hey, I did my best to explain. You know, about how I don’t take kindly to lies and betrayal.”

  It all sounded nice and tough. Just the way I wanted it to. But I knew I couldn’t keep up the facade for long. Before Levi could detect any chink in my armor, I hurried down the steps and I never looked back.

  I was moving so fast, I nearly rammed into Hank and the other police officer who were talking quietly at the bottom of the stairway.

  “In a hurry?” Hank looked past me and up the stairs, but I guess Levi was as smart as I always thought he was because there was no sign of him. Hank dismissed the other cop with a nod. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on.” I stepped around him and started down the hallway.

  “You’re not jealous, are you?” Hank asked. “I mean, because I brought someone else in on the investigation?”

  The idea was so preposterous, I stopped and spun toward Hank. “What, you think I want to be the only amateur detective on the island?”

  “Except he’s not an amateur, is he?”

  The full realization of what Hank said slammed into me like a freight train. I sucked in a breath and pressed a hand to my heart. “You know. About Levi. About how he’s a—”

  “PI. Sure.” Hank nodded. “He came and told me. You know, as a professional courtesy. Right after he moved here to South Bass.”

  My breath caught behind a ball of outrage in my throat. For a year, I’d protected what I thought was an important and personal secret. Apparently, I shouldn’t have bothered.

  I tossed my hands in the air. “What, I should just take out a billboard over on the mainland? Maybe that would save us all a whole lot of time.”

  Hank shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about you. About you and Levi and how you knew all along that he was sent here to—” I bit back the rest of what I was going to say, but only because I didn’t know who might be behind the closed doors of the nuns’ rooms. Sure, Water’s Edge was built like a fortress, but I’d been talking pretty loud. No, actually, I’d been yelling. They all thought I was a prima donna? Well, maybe it was time I started acting like one. “Why didn’t you tell me what he was up to?”

  “Why would I?” Hank was so nonchalant about it, I could have screamed. “Besides, I couldn’t say anything. Not without betraying a confidence.”

  I know for a fact that it is unladylike, not to mention uncultured, to snort. Like I could help myself?

  “Betraying confidences seems to be the least of our worries.”

  “Well, I haven’t. Not for a year,” Hank said. “And I’m not going to start now. I mentioned that Levi was a PI because he told me that you knew. Otherwise, I never would have said a thing. As for what he’s doing here on South Bass, if you know, you’re one step ahead of me.”

  I darted a look over Hank’s shoulder, but there was still no sign of Levi. “You mean you don’t—”

  “Know why he came here in the first place? I don’t have a clue. He wouldn’t tell me and as long as it’s nothing illegal, I didn’t pry. I do know he’s helped me out with a little research now and again. You know, when Peter Chan died and again when ol’ Richie Monroe was poisoned. But both times, you beat us both to the punch. Imagine,” he chucked, “an innkeeper outsmarting two professionals.”

  An innkeeper.

  I took comfort in the fact that to Hank, that’s all that I was.

  “I can tell him to back off,” Hank offered.

  “You can tell him—” Oh, it’s not like I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say, it was just that the door of Sister Catherine’s room opened and I bit back my words. “Do whatever you want,” I told Hank and added a flip of my hands to emphasize the point.

  “Uh, Bea . . .” Sister Catherine stepped out into the hallway and motioned to me. She glanced back into her room. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

  My heart pounded like the bass line in a heavy metal song, and I gulped down a breath to try to steady it and followed Sister Catherine into her room.

  “I hope I’m not being a Nosey Norah.” There was a single lamp lit on the table next to the desk, and in the light, Sister Catherine’s short gray habit looked as ghostly as Sister Sheila’s had the night I found her in the water. “I really don’t need anything. I thought . . . I thought maybe you needed an excuse to get away from that policeman.”

  I cringed and tossed my phone down on the desk near the wall-to-wall windows that had bothered Sister Sheila so much. Then I flopped into the nearest chair. “Sorry. I should have lowered my voice. I shouldn’t have let my emotions run away with me.”

  “No worries!” She grinned. “And it’s not like I don’t think you can hold your own, it’s just that—”

  Her cell phone was on the desk, too, and it rang a celestial tone. Had I been in a better mood I wouldn’t have thought, Doesn’t it figure.

  “Excuse me,” Catherine said and answered the call.

  The minute she did, her expression brightened. “Gram! It’s so good to hear from you. How are you feeling?”

  Sh
e paused to listen to the response on the other end of the phone, but only for a moment.

  “No, it doesn’t matter what I’m up to. You’re what matters, and I asked first.”

  Catherine smiled over at me in a way that told me she was used to being indulgent to the person at the other end of the phone, and that she didn’t mind it one bit.

  “I’ve got plenty to tell you,” she said. “But not tonight. You sound tired. Why don’t I give you a call tomorrow afternoon after your doctor appointment. Will that work?”

  She said her good-night and ended the call.

  “Sorry.” Sister Catherine set the phone back on the desk. “That was my grandmother.”

  “She’s not well?” The moment I asked, heat rushed into my cheeks. “Now I’m being a Nosey Norah.”

  “No, really. You’re not.” She laughed. “It’s nice of you to be concerned. My Gram . . .” Sister Catherine cleared her throat. “Our parents died in a plane crash when we were kids,” she said. “Gram raised me and my brother, Michael. We’ve always been really close. And now . . .” With her right hand, she made a quick sign of the cross over her forehead and chest. “I pray for her recovery, but right now, Gram’s not doing well. Lymphoma.” The very word made her wince. “We’re trying to keep a positive attitude.”

  “That’s all anyone can do.” I got up, and figuring Hank had gone downstairs and that hopefully, Levi had, too, I moved to the door.

  “And pray.” Sister Catherine opened the door for me and let me step out into the hallway ahead of her. She was already out there when I realized I’d left my phone behind.

  I ducked back into the room and I was just going to make a grab for the phone when something out in the garden caught my eye.

  Not the cops. They’d brought flashlights with them and this figure moved through the dark.

  I leaned closer to the window for a better look, but it was no use. The only thing I could see was a shape that was darker than the shadows as it looked up to the window where I stood then took off running.