The Smoking Nun Page 14

  Now, of course, I should send her to the Cobbler Cove police with the iPad, but is it my fault she brought it to me first, and I forgot to mention she should bring it to the police?

  My smile was of gratitude. “Oh, thank you, Sister Rita. I appreciate it, and no hard feelings. You were just trying to find a solution. Ophelia could be pretty stubborn.”

  She tucked her aging hands around her purse strap and peered at me. “Any news yet on who might have done this?”

  I didn’t have to fake the slump in my shoulders one bit. “No. Nothing yet.” Pausing, I gave her a thoughtful glance. “Did you ever see anything suspicious? See anyone suspicious around your place? Did you see anything that might help us find out who did this?”

  Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around my wrist. “I wish I could help you, Trixie, but no. I never saw anyone who would lead me to believe they would commit something as horrible as murder. We’re all so distraught over the very notion someone would harm a nun, of all people. Especially because it appears so random and with no motive. Ophelia was a wonderful member of the community, and her death has left us all reeling. I only wish I could help you more.”

  Me, too. “So she didn’t seem upset over anything—maybe have a confrontation with someone that didn’t come off as a big deal then, but might mean something now?”

  Sister Rita gave a hard shake to her head. “No. Never. Ophelia was opinionated, but she certainly never inspired confrontation. She was always smiling and joking, and though I only knew her for a mere two weeks since she’d moved in, I genuinely liked her, if not the volume on her iPad.”

  Sighing, I offered my hand to Sister Rita again. “Then thank you again for dropping this to me, and for taking time out of your day to do it. I hope we’ll have the chance to share a conversation sometime when things aren’t so fraught.”

  “Happy to help, Trixie. Blessings to you and yours.” She gave me a wink and a nod and she was off, slipping through the people entering the shop with lithe movements.

  As I watched her stride down the sidewalk from the shop’s picture window, I marveled at the pep in her step until she disappeared into the crowd.

  Clinging to the iPad, I took it with me to my office and sat it on my desk, wanting to open it and look and see what I could find. But the idea it could be evidence held me back—mostly. Also something to factor in: surely it would be password protected, and I’m no hacker. I couldn’t even imagine what a nun would use as a password anyway.

  But that didn’t keep me from desperately wanting to flip it open and pore over the contents. I had to set it on my desk next to the one Knuckles had returned and physically walk away to avoid temptation.

  Just then, a group of customers came in, taking my mind off waiting for Tansy to text me with any morsel of information on Sister Patricia, and away from Sister Ophelia’s dang iPad.

  “Trixie?”

  I looked up from my paperwork on my desk and cocked my head at Coop. “Hey, you. You ready to go home, maybe grab some dinner on the way? Higgs wanted to meet up. Naturally, he’s talking a burger joint. Does Killer Burger appeal?”

  She nodded and held up the store’s tablet. “Yes. I love their peanut-butter-bacon-pickle burger. Yum-yum,” she responded in her wooden tone. “I’m done for the day, but before we go, I thought you said we weren’t allowed to use the tablet for anything but store business?”

  With a frown, I pushed my chair from my desk and rose to stretch. “Well, I’d prefer we didn’t, if only for tax purposes. I try to be honest with the taxman when I say I bought it to keep track of store appointments and events. Why do you ask?”

  “When you were with those customers, I grabbed it from your desk to enter my appointments for the coming week and it wasn’t charged. So I charged it, but when I opened it, Unsolved Mysteries was on pause.”

  My heart jumped in my chest as I put two and two together. “Oh, dear. You must have grabbed Sister Ophelia’s iPad by mistake. They’re identical. Sister Rita, a nun she lived with, dropped it by today.”

  Coop eyeballed me and lifted her chin. “Why would she bring you Sister O’s iPad, Trixie?”

  I winced in more shame, preparing for my Coop lecture. “Weeell, I did a little snooping earlier today.” I explained what I’d done, and Coop clucked her tongue.

  “You lied, Trixie.”

  I gave her a guilty look. “But it was for the greater good.”

  “Does the greater good involve you making up an outrageous story about Higgs?”

  Pursing my lips, I gave her a sheepish glance. “He made them up about me, too,” I responded in a childish bid for neener-neener-neener.

  “If he jumped off a bridge, would you do the same?”

  Oh, dear. The grasshopper had become the sensei. “He’d never jump off a bridge. I think he’s afraid of heights,” I joked.

  “Trixie…” she said, her admonishing tone, usually saved for when Livingston did something she thought was dishonest, in full warning mode.

  “Okay, look, I’m just trying to figure out what happened to Sister O. And I didn’t open it or even look at it. Plus, I texted Tansy to tell her I had it.” I held up my phone to show her the text. “See?”

  “All I’m hearing is excuses, Sister Trixie Lavender,” she said over her shoulder as she left my office.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. Behind her back, of course. I mean, she could break me in half if the mood is right. No reason to tempt the gods…but that left me alone with Sister Ophelia’s enticing iPad.

  The iPad on which she’d been doing what she loved doing best—watching a mystery. And let’s not forget how convenient it was that her iPad wasn’t password protected.

  I call sign. Yes. That was exactly what this was. It was certainly a sign from somewhere, yes?

  So I walked my fingers across the desk and touched the screen because I couldn’t help myself, okay?

  Sure enough, true to form, she had been watching Unsolved Mysteries. Season twelve, episode ten on Amazon Prime. Maybe I’d watch that tonight in her honor while I stewed in my misery at my inability to solve the mystery surrounding her death.

  Lingering on the screen, I thought long and hard about looking at any files she might have, or emails, but then I snatched my hand away, ashamed of myself.

  Coop was right. There was the greater good and there was the greater need to snoop—of which I was surely guilty. Turning my back on my desk, I grabbed my purse, my dismal notes and my jacket, and left my office to head out and meet Higgs.

  But I took the iPad with me.

  It was, after all, police evidence, right?

  We couldn’t just leave something that could turn out to be important just lying around, could we?

  Chapter 15

  “So, where are we?” Higgs asked as he stuffed a crispy fry in his mouth as we finished up our dinner.

  I wiped my lips with my napkin and scoffed. “Absolutely the same stinkin’ place we were when I left you at the church earlier. Nowheresville. Unless we want to consider Deacon Cameron. He did have a burn on the side of his hand.”

  “He did,” Higgs agreed. “But what else do we have on him other than that? Maybe you should look at some of the timestamps on the pictures you told me Coop took and see where he was when Sister Ophelia was killed.”

  There was that. “I already did, and it doesn’t look like he ever left the basement of the church, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have and it doesn’t mean Deacon Delacorte wouldn’t have either.”

  “Nope. It doesn’t. So we’ll put them in our longshot pile because we don’t have a choice.”

  I sighed. Higgs was right, and I was getting antsy. “Any news from Tansy?”

  He peeked at his phone on the table. “Nope. Nothing.”

  Chewing on a pickle, I mused, “You know, I’ve been thinking all day about the headless corpse and Sister Patricia. If—and I use that loosely—if Sister Patricia really did kill Sister O, you can’t possibly think she killed t
he headless guy, too, can you? I mean, if you think strangulation is brutal, what is chopping up a body?”

  “What is insane, Alex?” Higgs said, his answer spoofing Jeopardy.

  “Exactly. I don’t believe she’s capable of that kind of torture.”

  “You’d be surprised what people are capable of, Trixie.” Higgs said, giving me his ex-undercover cop warning tone.

  I held up my index finger. “Okay, you’re right, but let’s say you’re not. If she really killed Sister O, how is the guy in the closet related to Sister Ophelia? And if she didn’t kill Sister Ophelia or anyone, who killed the guy in the closet? And why? Does that mean there are two killers? Or do they have the wrong one? Either way, a killer’s still on the loose.”

  Higgs’s head dipped low as he looked at his plate. “Tell me about it. The guys at the shelter are a wreck.”

  Fear sizzled along my spine. “Please tell me Solomon is tucked in for the night?”

  Higgs winked and nodded his head. “He is. He’s been on time for bed check ever since Dr. Mickey’s murder.”

  Rubbing my temples with one hand, I drew circles on the dark wood tabletop with the other. “Thank goodness. I can’t tell you the sleep I lose over him and whether he’s safe at night, but trying to keep track of him—without him feeling like he’s being kept track of—makes him anxious. So I try not to be the overprotective parent.”

  We grew silent after that, all of us eating our dinner amidst the noise and music of the dinner crowd, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sister Patricia.

  “I’m worried about Sister Patricia, Higgs. She may be crotchety, but she’s not superhuman. How long do you think before she crumbles under the pressure of jail? She’s lived a cloistered life, for pity’s sake.”

  “Not so cloistered she wasn’t capable of committing a carnal sin, Trixie,” Coop reminded, taking an enormous bite of her favorite burger and munching happily.

  “Now, now, Coop. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” I warned. “Not everything is black and white. There’s always some gray.”

  What Sister Patricia had done was wrong—so wrong—but to condemn wasn’t our place. Not at this point in time. We didn’t know her reasoning behind indulging in an affair of the flesh, and we couldn’t speculate.

  Coop’s matter-of-fact look shot daggers at me. “I only speak the truth. If leading a life of honesty is important, I’m doing my best to keep things honest.”

  Higgs gave her one of his infamous grins of approval. “You tell her, Coop.”

  She looked back at him. “I just did. Are your ears working, Cross Higglesworth?”

  We burst out laughing. But then I remembered Sister Ophelia’s iPad in my purse, and I knew I had to share the information with Higgs.

  “When I’m done here, I have to stop at the police station and give something to Tansy.”

  He cocked his head. “As in hell, for not texting you back about Sister Patricia’s questioning?”

  I laughed as I gathered up our napkins and put them on my tray. “No, silly. Sister Rita stopped by the shop today and brought me Sister Ophelia’s iPad.”

  He sipped at his beer, eyeing me over the rim of the mug filled with amber liquid. “Because you’re her niece?”

  I made a face at him and lobbed one of my crumpled napkins at his head. “Look, I’m just trying to catch a killer, okay? Sometimes you have to get in the mud for the greater good.”

  Popping the last of his burger in his mouth, he nodded. “Uh-huh. You sure got in the mud. Eyeball deep, Miss Community Service.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stood up, avoiding the overhead canister light, and leaned over the small wood table to poke him in the arm.

  “You don’t think I feel enough guilt already for telling like a hundred lies in a row to, of all people, a holy woman? I’m an ex-nun. Guilt is my specialty, buddy, but I think I like instilling it better than feeling it.”

  Pulling on his light jacket, Higgs took the last sip of his beer and rose, too. “Hey, listen. I don’t want you two to walk to the station alone—in case Sister Patricia isn’t responsible for the headless guy. So, why don’t you two come with me to the church first, and then I’ll go with. I just want to take a quick peek in on Father Rico and see how he’s doing.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I’m so caught up in my suspect-less investigation, I forgot all about how terrible he must be feeling, especially when we’ve had no word about what’s happening with Sister Patricia. I’m happy to go with you, Higgs.”

  Coop patted Higgs on the shoulder. “Me, too, Higgs. I love Father Rico. He’s kind, and I don’t like thinking about someone as kind as him being sad. He should always be happy. Also, did you know it’s Deacon Delacorte’s birthday today? I heard Mrs. Henry say she was going to bring him cupcakes. He’s fifty-six today, and I’d like to wish him a happy birthday if he’s still there.”

  “Fifty-six? Wow. I hope I look that good when I’m fifty-six,” I joked. “I didn’t peg him for a day over thirty-five. Do you suppose it’s the sacrament keeping him looking so young?”

  Higgs groaned. “I guess I have to give it to you there. He’s dreamier than even I gave him credit for.”

  I giggled, but Coop cocked her head. “I don’t know what that means. I only know the sound of his voice makes me happy, and he’s very nice.”

  Higgs grinned at her. “Are you happy, Coop?” he asked, and I suppose it was a valid question, considering she still couldn’t smile.

  “Duh,” she said, pulling the sides of her mouth upward. “This is my happy face.”

  He laughed at her. “Then let’s do this,” Higgs said, wending his way through the tiny shop with its wooden benches and tightly packed-in people.

  The rain had begun in earnest again, making us pick up our pace. As it pelted my head and we hopped over the rugged sidewalk, I thought about how helpless Sister Patricia must feel right now, and my heart clenched.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fan of hers, per se. She was always quite curt with me, especially after she found out I was shunned by my convent. I suppose I could feel petty about that in a how-dare-she-cast-aspersions-when-she-broke-her-vows-way-worse-than-I-ever-could kind of way. I’d only mooned some of my fellow sisters. I hadn’t committed a carnal sin.

  But I didn’t. I felt a bone-deep sadness because I was almost certain she had nothing to do with this or, if she did, that horrible Mr. Coletti had manipulated her. He was a divorce lawyer, after all. It’s not as though he didn’t know how to manipulate someone and win the game. I’d love to see this ironclad prenup Mrs. Coletti talked about, and what exactly he thought was worth protecting by killing someone.

  Either way, I was convinced Sister Patricia was innocent and not nearly as tough as she’d have some of the children she taught believe.

  How would a nun survive in jail? They’d eat her alive. The horrible images of her suffering someone named Big Lu were surfing around the edges of my brain, and they wouldn’t stop.

  I was so lost in my train of thought, I didn’t see the pothole on the sidewalk, and in an attempt to avoid the people in front of me, I stepped to the right—and fell right into a gaping hole.

  “Oh!” I yelped, wincing as I almost crumpled to the ground.

  Higgs grabbed me just in time, but I’d still managed to twist my ankle but good. “Hey, you okay?”

  I tried to put pressure on it, but it stung like a you know what. “Shoot,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry, Higgs. I think I might have twisted it.”

  He reached down and rubbed my very tender ankle as it quickly began to swell, making me wince harder. Of all the stupid luck. “It’s starting to swell up,” he said, as I hobbled around on one foot. “Doesn’t feel like you broke anything, but you might want to go to the ER just in case.”

  I protested in the way of a groan. “I’m not going to the ER for a sprained ankle. It’ll take a hundred years to see a doctor for him to charge me hundreds
more just to tell me something I already know.”

  Coop looked at me over Higgs’s back, the rain soaking her beautiful hair, leaving it plastered to her skull. She held the flashlight from her phone over my foot and frowned with a hiss.

  “Trixie, we need to ice that.”

  Higgs bent his knees and crouched in front of me as Coop helped hold me up. “Okay, it’s settled. On my back. I’ll piggyback you to the church, we’ll get you an ice pack, and we’ll take my car to the station afterward.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I protested as the rain began to seep through my sweater and I spat to keep it from getting into my mouth.

  “Well, let’s not take any chances, huh? Get on, Trixie. C’mon, it’s pouring out.”

  With a sigh, I let Coop help me hop onto Higgs’s back, wrapping my arms around his neck as my foot throbbed.

  He gripped my legs and said, “Hold tight. I’m gonna make a break for it. Coop, you with me?”

  She slapped him on the shoulder. “Right behind you.”

  Oh, sometimes I could just laugh at some of the ironic things Higgs said unknowingly. Was she with him? She could outrun him before he’d even blinked an eye.

  Instead, I tucked my head into the back of his neck and tried not to outwardly sniff his hair because even wet, it smelled good.

  All of him smelled good, and his broad back was a lot broader pressed to the front of me.

  As he bobbed and weaved through the few people out walking, lightly jogging toward the church, my ankle began to really pound. I was relieved when I finally saw the church and he took the steps without missing a beat.