Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2)

by Alice Loweecey

  She opened a door painted the color of real beach sand, not the pale kind sold in plastic bags at the toy store. “Our beach is semi-private with only a low fence, so you can easily access the public beach from it without going all the way around by the street. We have croquet and bocce ball set up on either side of the patio. Boat and Sea-Doo rentals are available a quarter-mile east along the beach, near the shopping district.” She opened the windows and stood by another door like Vanna White showing off a new puzzle on Wheel of Fortune. “The bathroom is in here. You’ll find locally crafted soap and hand lotion in the basket on the sink.”

  A door opened behind Mac and a woman’s voice said, “The first martini of the night is calling me. Let’s go.”

  “Thank you,” Giulia said to Mac. “I’ll certainly call on you if I need anything.”

  Mac stage-winked again and left. Giulia closed the door behind her. More voices and footsteps in the hall. Everyone appeared to be headed out to supper. Perfect.

  She appropriated the right-hand sides of the two dresser drawers and unpacked. The weather for the next several days promised to be a bit of everything, so she’d packed for everything. Capris, sneakers, and casual shirts, plus jeans and a sweatshirt. The downside: None of those items could conceal her Glock.

  The room had a classic Entrance to Narnia wardrobe. She opened it hoping for fur coats, but no luck with that in June. No snow fell on her hands, either, when she reached to touch the back panel.

  Adulthood had its disappointments.

  She kept her gun and its ammunition in her suitcase, which she locked and set against the back of the wardrobe. The key she dropped into her travel jewelry box at the back of the top dresser drawer. She didn’t anticipate using the gun on this case, but she wasn’t naïve enough to assume.

  The nightgown she’d purchased on her way out of Cottonwood rolled into a surprisingly small tube. It looked like another pair of socks, if one didn’t inspect it too closely No laundry for either of them on vacation, so no danger of Frank noticing her odd silky “socks.” Giulia smiled to herself in anticipation of his reaction when she put it on tomorrow night.

  Silence greeted her when she opened the bedroom door. Excellent.

  First order of business: How many haunting gadgets had Mac installed for Halloween week? Ancillary business: How many hidden gadgets had the psychic installed, and could Giulia tell them apart?

  Giulia walked softly downstairs, making no assumptions about the inn’s deserted state, and started with the cellar. Cement walls and floors. Laundry room, storage room, chest freezer, fruit cellar. Everything on open shelves. Phone ready to take incriminating pictures, she moved and replaced tools and canned goods, inspected boxes of dishes and paint supplies and soap. Not a suspicious gizmo anywhere. Eh. She hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

  Back to the first floor. The main hallway connected the kitchen to a music room, a living room, and next to that, a screened-in porch facing the lake. Back in the antique kitchen area, a square archway on the right past the vintage stove opened onto a formal dining room. A narrow doorway to her left, behind the trestle table, led to an L-shaped modern working kitchen. Near the water pump, another door, locked.

  She started with the trestle table. No hidden speakers or wires under the table or benches, or in the vase holding freesia and daisies. Nothing remotely modern in the stove or the deep sink and attached water pump.

  On to the dining room. No hidden wires in the drapes. No switches or miniature speakers under the intricately carved table and chairs. The piano and bench in the music room: Clean. Also the wall art and throw rug. The living room drapes and coffee table: Clean as well. The cumbersome 1930s-style radio complete with speakers resembling a cathedral window hid a modern receiver and CD player. She didn’t see any overt signs of tampering. Neither Mac nor her psychic were following the huckster’s rulebook.

  A china doll lay in a baby carriage at the foot of the stairs, both carriage and doll from the turn of the last century. If Mac had claimed this doll floated in the air or performed an Exorcist-style head spin, Giulia might’ve believed her.

  The stairs were narrow by today’s standards. This time up she touched one of the worn Oriental carpet runners in the hope of feeling the real thing, but her fingers informed her it was polyester. A pedal-operated sewing machine was the second floor’s antique of choice. The stained glass window was the true prize of the hall. The setting sun through its panes created ribbons of jewel-colored light on the oak floor.

  She went into the library first, starting at the walls lined with bookshelves. Two overstuffed armchairs sat at right angles to each other on a different oriental rug. The white curtains let in diffused sunlight, making the room cool and inviting.

  Giulia checked the curtains and the small side tables next to the chairs. Clean. Maybe the psychic used portable tricks because he or she only came here once a week. That would explain the lack of gadgets, but it would also make this case difficult.

  Carpet runners in a third pattern lined the next flight of stairs. A narrow table in this hall supported a lamp with red-edged fringe, eight scooped side panels in different lace patterns, and eight glass panels in different floral patterns angling to a point at the top. A brass pineapple finial crowned it. Giulia couldn’t wait for Frank’s reaction to it tomorrow when she showed him around.

  Two of the three bedrooms on this floor showed signs of occupation. Giulia gave all three the same inspection, adding a check under the beds and in the wardrobes. The edges around one windowsill let in a whiff of breeze, but nothing extreme. Mac must have spent a fortune restoring this place. It showed. But she found no haunting equipment anywhere on the third floor.

  Returning to the second floor, she checked out the other two bedrooms, then her own. Her bathroom boasted a Victorian shower and a pull chain toilet. Frank’s reaction to this might surpass his opinion of the fringed lamp. That and the lace canopy over their bed.

  All of it proclaimed its innocence of any motive other than to make a guest’s stay comfortable and relaxed.

  Well, she wasn’t licked yet.

  Fourteen

  Twilight fell as she returned to the first floor and the glass-eyed doll. At the foot of the stairs she turned left instead of to the right, back into the living room. She entered some kind of history and souvenir room crowded with small tables, an intricate dollhouse, and a bookshelf of kitsch.

  She passed through this room into a vestibule with an oak door to her right leading to the patio. Yet another door faced her. She opened it and stepped back. A complete suit of armor guarded the lighthouse stairs. If she’d come upon it in the dark, her heart would’ve leaped out of her chest through the door, taking any attempt at stealth with it. The darn thing looked as though it could come to life if needed to protect the house against intruders.

  Giulia climbed the narrow spiral stairs up into the lighthouse proper. The wooden steps, firm under her feet, emitted hardly a creak. When she reached the first deep-set window she sat on a step and examined the treads and the railing. New and sturdy construction, all of it.

  The stairs ended at a catwalk running around the inside of the tower. A five-rung ladder led up to a cluster of industrial-sized light bulbs in the very top covered with a red, white, and blue gel shade. A narrow opening half the width of a standard doorway led from the catwalk to the gallery outside. She went sideways through this doorway and stepped out onto the gallery. The door faced the lake. She looked down on the flagged patio and part of the house’s roof.

  She shook this wooden railing like she had the one inside. Good and solid. Heights weren’t Giulia’s nightmare, but it was reassuring to have a safety net of sorts. She circled the entire gallery, looking out over the beach, the lake, the town, and more beach before she reentered the lighthouse.

  On her descent Giulia sought and found the wall s
cratches in the photo Mac had showed her. She didn’t attempt to reach them.

  One of the window recesses held a hurricane lantern and the other a ruby glass vase. Cobwebs covered both, perhaps to evoke the Halloween atmosphere even this early in the tourist season.

  Giulia studied the suit of armor before leaving the vestibule. An effective prop as well. A man or woman could worm themselves into it and scare a year off a guest’s life. In the twilight glow the metal visor appeared to be eying her with suspicion.

  “I’m not Scooby-Doo,” she whispered at it. “Go scare someone else.”

  At the doorway into the rest of the house, she stopped and listened. Everyone must have been out to dinner still, because the only sound was a brisk wind off the lake. The curtains in the living room puffed in the breeze. They whipped over the back of the sofa exactly like they had in the photo Mac had shown her in DI’s office. Giulia snapped several photos with her phone. She’d have to look up this “Woman in White” legend to see if that kind of ghost preferred fluttery white dresses.

  Next: Round two on the stairs. In the cooling air the second and fourth treads creaked.

  Last: The foot of the attic stairs. Giulia wouldn’t swear that floorboards settling in the attic didn’t sound like a ghostly footstep. She cranked the volume on her phone and tried to capture the sound.

  Two floors below, the screen door opened and voices returned to the house. Giulia dashed downstairs into her room.

  Stone’s Throw wasn’t a business hotel and the room had no space for a desk and chair. Giulia piled the pillows against the headboard and propped her iPad on her knees.

  True to her fears, the Wi-Fi took forever to connect. When the page of images finally loaded, it confirmed Giulia’s white nightgown theory. Combining that with the Trip Advisor review about something rigged up in the attic, Giulia came up with Mac and the psychic working together to create a nightgown ghost.

  She frowned. More ways to interpret that conclusion: Mac hired DI to boot the fake psychic and make a selling point out of it. Or the psychic wasn’t fake and Mac hired DI to give cachet to her. Giulia’s frown deepened.

  She couldn’t think of a casual way to meet the other guests until breakfast tomorrow. The rest of the night would be a waste of time.

  An orange glow appeared in her windows. Fire! She jumped off the bed, iPad bouncing onto the quilt, and pressed her face against the glass.

  Fifteen

  Stupid of her to panic. She’d forgotten the bonfire. The tall woman with stooped shoulders at the fire pit had to be Mac. A shorter male in dark clothes stood on the patio coaxing the flames to grow.

  Giulia’s next thought: S’mores. Not a healthy supper, but sussing out possible ghost-making equipment had been more important than finding a place to eat.

  Right after that thought: Here was her casual way to meet the guests. She closed her iPad, tied her sneakers, and headed downstairs.

  The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees with the breeze off the lake. Lights from the town prevented stargazing this close to the shore.

  A single motorboat passed them headed east. Competing music from the beachfront bars reached as far as this section of beach, but not loud enough to be intrusive.

  Giulia should’ve changed into jeans. She held out her hands to the bonfire.

  Two men about her age sat on the patio sofa with their arms around each other.

  Mac opened a cooler and passed out forks. As she walked around the group with an open bag of marshmallows, she said, “S’more’s may be a way of reliving our childhood, but adulthood has its privileges. I have here regular chocolate and wine-infused chocolate. I recommend the dark with sherry.”

  Giulia toasted her marshmallow to an even golden-brown on all sides before choosing regular chocolate to accompany it. She smiled at the two men on the sofa and they waved her over.

  “Did you just arrive?” the one with the close-trimmed beard said. “We didn’t see you earlier today.”

  “Yes. I fought rush-hour traffic all the way. I’m Giulia.”

  “Joel. This is my husband, Gino.”

  Gino swallowed marshmallow and graham cracker bits once, then again before he opened his mouth. “Pleased to meet you. You’re here all alone?”

  “My husband got sucked into a work crisis right before we were supposed to leave. He’s coming tomorrow.”

  A different couple arrived carrying half-empty martini glasses: The woman plump, with one of those haircuts designed especially for the customer, the man stocky and short, especially when he stood next to Mac. They declined s’mores and monopolized Mac’s attention.

  Joel and Gino wandered out to the beach. Giulia regretted the bit of chocolate and marshmallow because it emphasized her lack of real food. A third couple ran up from the beach and stopped next to the sofa, panting.

  “Did we miss it?” the woman said.

  Mac waved the bag of marshmallows as she listened to the perfect haircut and husband. The woman, tall with an afro, plucked the bag from Mac’s hand. Her husband, the same height but with a buzz cut and built like a soccer player, found long-handled forks and the rest of the ingredients. When their snacks were ready, they sat down, plump, on either side of Giulia.

  “Hi! I’m CeCe and this is Roy. I promise I’m safe to sit near. No birds are nesting in my hair despite its craziness.”

  “Your hair is beautiful,” Giulia said, then gave them the same explanation she’d given to Joel and Gino.

  “That’s a bad start to a vacation,” Roy said. “This your first time here? You’ll love it. We’ve been coming here since the place opened.”

  “Mac’s breakfasts are to die for,” CeCe said. “You tell your husband that the rest of the week will make up for missing out on today. I can’t wait for the séance on Sunday. Mac’s always adding something new.”

  Roy leaned closer to Giulia. “We found a Ouija board in an antique shop back home. Haven’t had the guts to try it yet. Are you game?”

  Giulia said, “I’ve never tried one either.”

  “Let’s do it,” CeCe said, bouncing up and down on the hard cushion. “I’ve seen Paranormal Activity and The Exorcist, but movies aren’t real life. We’re on vacation. Let’s live a little.”

  “Besides, what are you going to do all alone in that big bed without your husband?” Roy gave her an exaggerated wink.

  CeCe aimed a slap at him. “He’s a pig; just ignore him.”

  “You love it,” Roy said. “Come on. It’s dark out. I’ll borrow some candles from Mac and we’ll do this right.”

  Giulia followed CeCe up to the Starfish room on the third floor.

  “We always have this room,” CeCe said, opening their wardrobe. “I fell in love with the clawfoot bathtub our first year. Here’s the board. Go ahead; look at how huge the tub is.”

  “Wow,” Giulia said. “You could fit two people in that.”

  “You sure can.” CeCe set the tattered-edged board on the starfish-shaped throw rug. “It’s a good thing this rug isn’t a pentagram or anything. Me and Roy and a demon would definitely not fit in that tub.”

  Giulia opened her mouth to lecture on the actual meaning of the pentagram, but shut it immediately. Undercover, undercover, undercover. Instead she said, “Don’t these wardrobes make you think of Narnia?”

  CeCe squeaked. “I say that every year! We ought to suggest that to Mac.”

  Roy opened the door carrying three shallow bowls and three tall candles. CeCe pounced. “Giulia says the wardrobes make her think of Narnia too. We should tell Mac to put fur coats in the wardrobes and open the first week of December for a Narnia winter getaway. They’d have to be faux fur, could you imagine the cost? What do you think, honey?”

  Roy set one candle on the nightstand and two on the floor at the inner angle
s of two furry starfish arms. “You know I can’t stand those books, doll.”

  “Yeah, but what do you think of the vacation idea?”

  He struck a match and lit one candle. “I guess, if you could find enough adults willing to pay these prices to play kids’ dress up for four or five days.” As the wick burned, he said, “How are we going to make these stand up?”

  Giulia came over next to him. “Like this.” She picked up the candle and tilted it over the center of its bowl until several drops of wax had fallen. Then she pushed the base of the candle into the wax.

  “Son of a gun.” Roy nodded at Giulia. “Clever. You two set up the board?”

  CeCe took a battered planchette out of a brown paper bag with “Blasts from the Past” stenciled on it. “We weren’t sitting up here comparing nail polish. Too bad the glass in the center is cracked.”

  “Maybe we’ll contact the spirit of a glassblower.” Roy created wax bases for the other two candles. “Okay, lights out.”

  CeCe flipped the wall switch, made an annoyed noise, and walked around Giulia and Roy to turn off the bathroom light.

  Giulia sat cross-legged facing CeCe. The candles combined with the canopied bed and antique furniture created a slumber party atmosphere.

  Giulia kept her imagination on a tight leash. Too many Hammer films and Asian horror movies.

  “Just a second.” She took her cell phone from her pocket. “I don’t want this ringing at the wrong time.”

  Roy and CeCe took out theirs. “Good point.”

  Giulia turned off her ringer and using small, quick movements turned on the voice memo function before she returned the phone to her pocket. At this point, everyone was a suspect. Especially complete strangers who just happened to invite her to their room for a Ouija board experiment on her first night in a haunted B&B.