The Smoking Nun Read online

  “But doesn’t he have family? People who know him? People who’d know you weren’t him? Pictures of him in China?”

  Nodding his head, he grinned. “That’s the icing on the cake. To make everything that much sweeter, he’s an orphan, and most all of the people he spent the better part of his adult life with are in China. I heard him tell his waitress. Went on ad nauseam about it. Also, we looked a lot alike. Enough that I could have pulled it off with ease. That made everything perfect. Perfect. It was everything I needed to start a new life that would last more than a few stupid months, and no one would have ever known he wasn’t me. I had a fake ID made and I just stepped into his identity. Easy-peasy. It’s hard when you’re on the run for so long. This was a sign, Trixie. A sign from God,” he whispered, the echo of his voice swishing through the building.

  A killer who needed a place to call home. Yikes.

  Goose bumps covered my arms and raised the hair on the back of my neck. “But why, of all the places in the world, after killing him, would you leave his body in the storage closet?”

  I wanted to call him an idiot for doing that, but I suppose, in the position I was in, I’d end up dead a lot quicker if I incited him. Plus, he’d eluded the FBI and the local police for over two decades. Who was the real idiot here?

  Rolling his gorgeous eyes, Emile exhaled long and loud. “I couldn’t leave him in the my refrigerator forever, could I? But yeah, I’ll admit, that was a dumb mistake on my part. Yes, Trixie, even calculated killers like me screw up. All I had to do was carry his body from my apartment in the back, where I’d stored him while I figured out what to do with him, to the side of the church where my car—er, Deacon Delacorte’s car is parked. But as you know, there’s only one way to get from my attached apartment out back to the side entrance. I stupidly thought the church would be empty. But wouldn’t you know, that octopus of a woman Carla showed up with her big mouth and her happy hands. So I ducked into the closet and dumped him. I just couldn’t seem to get away from her long enough to get him the hell out of there and, well…you know the rest.”

  Disgust made my stomach turn at the callous disregard he had for the real Deacon Delacorte and what he’d done to him, so much disgust I had to fight vomiting.

  “So you beheaded him and burned his fingerprints off to keep the police from identifying him?” I squeaked, even though I already knew the answer. I was just trying to buy some time to do something—anything.

  He winked with a playful chuckle. “I did. Does that frighten you, Trixie?”

  “Well, on the one hand,” I grunted as my arms refused to hold me up anymore and I fell to the hard floor. “It’s not exactly comforting to know my head’s going to end up somewhere the rest of me isn’t. But on the other, I won’t know that, will I?”

  “You know, Trixie, you have an amazing attitude,” he commended with a cluck of his tongue. “Which is why I guess you were a nun. I wish we’d had more than the few days we did to get to know one another. I sure like you.” Then he turned away as though he were going to begin dragging me again.

  “Wait! Wait! I have some advice. Do yourself a favor. Make sure to check my clothing before you hack me up.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “The real Deacon Delacorte’s body still had pants on, and inside the pants he had a secret pocket sewn. In that pocket, there was a book of matches from a Chinese restaurant in China. That’s how I put some of this together. And you almost paid for our coffee with Chinese money.”

  He wiped a hand across his brow. “Phew. Saved by the nun. Thanks, Trixie,” he said jovially.

  As he turned away and started to drag me the rest of the way, I yelped, “Wait! Just wait. One more thing!”

  Emile stopped again and turned back around, giving me a look that said he’d indulge me just this once. “Okay. One more, and then we have to hurry this along. I have a lot of you to dispose of before I get the hell out of here.”

  I fought a loud gasp because he’d essentially answered my next question, but I asked anyway, and this time, my voice was shaky and my blood ran cold.

  “Where are Coop and Higgs? And Father Rico. Did you…did you kill them?”

  I closed my eyes and prayed then. Prayed he’d say no.

  “Waiting for the same fate as you, Trixie,” he said, as if I’d asked a silly question. “You know I can’t let them live any more than I can let you stay breathing. You all know too much. Now it’s time to go.”

  And without another word, he began to pull me the rest of the way toward the vestibule. But not only was I fueled by hope because he’d said Coop and Higgs were “waiting for the same fate” as me, which I took to mean alive. I was fueled by the hope that Coop would say to heck with hiding her strength from Higgs and Father Rico, and bust out of wherever Emile had them—because I was certain he had them stashed somewhere.

  While the terror in me, along with my predicament, began to set in, as I clawed at the floor, trying to grab on to the sides of the pews as they rolled by me, my mind whirred with what to do next.

  I figured jackknifing upward and catching him by surprise with a roundhouse punch to the face was at best, unlikely. I couldn’t jackknife out of bed after a lazy Sunday sleep in, let alone jackknife up off the floor with someone holding my aching ankle in a vise grip.

  Tears sprang to my eyes the farther we got; my hands ached and I screamed for him to stop as my frustration level grew, and then everything went quite suddenly,z an insidious black.

  Chapter 17

  “Trixie Lavender, you must stop! Stoooop!” Coop screamed.

  Like, actually screamed.

  It was the first thing I heard, the first thing that was capable of piercing that cloudy haze of my demonic possession. Then there were hands pulling at me, dragging me, pushing me up against a wall so hard, it knocked the breath out of me.

  A slap to my cheek cleared my vision. “Look at me, Trixie! Look at me now! Focus on me. It’s Coop. You must stop!” she yelled, then lowered her voice and forced me to look into her eyes. “Higgs is here, Trixie. He’s here.”

  All at once, as was the norm for one of my demonically possessed outbursts, I went slack, my muscles released, my fists unclenched—and indeed I saw Higgs over Coop’s shoulder.

  And his face said it all.

  “Trixie?” Higgs murmured in abject horror. I heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes, and right then and there, I prayed for death.

  Yes, that’s a sin, in a roundabout way, I suppose, but the way Higgs was looking at me made me feel far dirtier than breaking a commandment ever could.

  It was only then that I saw Emile Franklin’s battered body on the floor not far from my feet. Obviously, Coop had pulled me off him.

  Good heavens, he was a mess. His nose was bloody, his eyes were so black and blue and swollen, I could barely see them. There was a stray tooth but inches from him, and his arm lie crookedly next to his body, clearly broken.

  He tried to move, tried to scurry away, but was helpless to do much more than whimper, “Get her away from me! Keep her away from me!”

  Oh, dear. I’d really done it this time, eh?

  “Shut him up!” Coop ordered, her face hard and unyielding. “Call Tansy, Higgs! Do it now!”

  Higgs blinked, his beautiful eyes that once looked at me with warmth and smiles were riddled with disbelief. “But…”

  Letting me go, but keeping me near, Coop swung around to face him. “I said call Tansy, Higgs. My phone is broken after the tussle with Deacon Delacorte. So do it. Now,” she seethed, and I have to admit, she was much better at anger than she was at happiness because even I wanted to call Tansy.

  Higgs fumbled with his phone while I looked to Coop for answers. “Tussle?” I rasped, my throat typically raw and hoarse after an outburst.

  “Yes. Deacon Delacorte, who I suppose isn’t really Deacon Delacorte, tied us up at knifepoint and was going to come back and take us somewhere he could kill us without leaving behind another mess h
e’d have to clean. I let him, of course because what was I to do? Reveal my strength? Father Rico was so afraid, he passed out cold, but Higgs…” She sighed, her way of showing her frustration. “After the deacon left to go find you, I…well, I untied us. I promise you, Trixie, I tried to hide my strength as best I could, but there was no way I was going to let him kill you. But I promise you, Father Rico didn’t see anything.”

  “Higgs…” I whispered with my own horror, placing a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.

  “Yes,” she hissed, gripping my jaw in her hand. “He saw. But he didn’t only see me, Trixie. He saw you.”

  I looked into her eyes, my darkest fear rising to the top of my skull, threatening to cancel out everything and explode from my brain.

  “Am I a mess?” was all I could manage.

  Coop, never one to mince words, looked me square in the eye. “Like you went ten rounds in a cage fight and just barely got out alive.”

  The moment she said that was the moment all feeling returned to my nerve endings. Everything, and I do mean even my eyelashes, hurt.

  I lifted my hands to see my knuckles were shredded. And upon looking down, I saw my clothes were covered in blood spatter. My earlier ankle sprain began to hurt so much, I didn’t think I could stand on it any longer.

  “My face?” I asked, because if my hands were any indication of the fight, my face was probably worse.

  Coop pushed my hair from my eyes and used her thumb to wipe something from the side of my mouth. “Also a mess. You have two black eyes and a split lip. He must have tried to fight back. But you showed him, because he’s worse.”

  I groaned when I heard police sirens bleat out their warning. “How can I explain?”

  She gripped me by the caps of my shoulders and gave me a slight shake. “Let me handle this, Trixie. Please trust I can handle this.”

  Finally able to lift my arms, I pulled her into my embrace in weak relief. “Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid for you and Higgs.”

  Higgs stood on the peripheral of the scene, his face still rich with disbelief. It was as though he was afraid to come near me, and who could blame him? I’m certain he’d witnessed a monster.

  The rush of police and the sound of Tansy’s voice had Coop giving me a quick squeeze before disentangling my arms from her neck and propping me against the wall. “Stay here, Trixie. I promise, I’ll handle this.”

  My stomach recoiled then, the urge to vomit my dinner almost stronger than the urge to pass out. Someone helped me to a chair in the vestibule. One of the only ones not smashed to bits courtesy of me, I suppose.

  Tansy barked orders and sent the paramedics to me. They patched me up as best they could with ice packs and bandages and, while they weren’t sure if I needed stitches, a strong recommendation to visit the ER was given.

  But all I could do was think about what Higgs must be thinking. How he must have felt, seeing me that way.

  “Love? Look at me.” Tansy said, kneeling in front of me and tilting my chin upward with her hand. “You’re wrecked, Miss Marple. That must have been some fight.”

  My eyes filled with tears, and my heart nearly burst. “I—”

  “No, no. Don’t tell me your version now. Coop explained everything I need to know for the moment. You just rest and come in tomorrow to make a statement, yes?”

  I looked at her through my swollen eyes as tears fell down my cheeks. “Really?”

  She smiled warmly, sympathetically. “Of course, love. You need to go to the hospital first. I can’t have my best unofficial copper in anything but tip-top condition. We’ve got this now. Though, I can’t imagine you’ll tell me anything different than Higgs and Coopie did. Really, all I need is your signature on an official statement, and that surely can wait. Now, go get yourself a warm cuppa. Bet Father Rico has some in his office. The rest will sit.” She gave my arm a gentle squeeze and was gone.

  Coop rushed in just as they carried Emile Franklin out on a stretcher while he cried out and pointed at me, “She’s crazy! Get her away from me!”

  “C’mon. Let’s go get some of that tea, Trixie Lavender. Higgs is waiting in Father Rico’s office.”

  But I tried to dig my heels in and stop her from forcing me to see Higgs. “No! I can’t, Coop. I can’t!”

  “You can and you will. You will not leave him like some cliffhanger, wondering if he saw what you darn well know he saw. I won’t let you. I’m ever so glad I saw Dynasty long after it was on television, or I might have had a rage-filled fit, waiting until the next season. Now buck up, Sister Trixie. It’s time to get this handled once and for all.”

  “You mean tell him the truth?” I squealed, gripping her upper arm.

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Now, put your arm around my neck and let me help you. I’m tired of deceiving someone I care so much about. I trust Higgs. Once he’s past the shock, he’ll either accept us or not. But no more hiding from the people closest to us.”

  As she helped me hobble down the long hall to Father Rico’s office, my heart crashed against my ribs and my head buzzed with the million and one explanations. Even after she pushed open Father Rico’s heavy office door, my brain was still whirring.

  Until Higgs’s head popped up and he saw me.

  Then I wanted to curl into a ball and lie down and die.

  “Trixie…” He hummed my name, his voice still full of disbelief. Disbelief that turned to fear. I saw it—tasted it—felt it in every crevice, every nerve ending.

  So I held up a hand, fighting hot tears. “Higgs. Please listen—”

  He backed away, setting down the cup of tea he’d been preparing, but Coop was quick to step between my raw, beaten body and Higgs’s disbelief.

  “Cross Higglesworth, this is going to take some explaining and a certain amount of stretching your beliefs and maybe even your imagination. Please, before you become anxious and fearful, you must listen. I insist you do us the courtesy of listening.”

  But Higgs kept backing away and shaking his head, his usually tanned face gone pale and chalky. He held up a finger as his mouth began to open and his head kept shaking.

  “No…no. I…no,” he murmured, his eyes far away and glassy.

  Coop approached him and gripped him by the shoulders and, from the look of shock on his handsome face, she was using a decent amount of force. With a face hard enough to crack a walnut, she looked him directly in the eye, her jaw clenching.

  “I must insist you sit down and listen to me—to us, Cross Higglesworth. I hold you in high regard, but I will not hesitate to force my will upon you if you do not sit and listen to what we have to tell you. And please don’t think for one minute I can’t force you to my will. I can. I don’t like the notion. But I can. I will.”

  Tears began to spill from my eyes as I heard Coop order Higgs to stay put. I think I’d always known this day would come; I just hadn’t ever planned on it coming so soon. I’d rehearsed a million scenarios in my head. I’d prepared a million speeches to explain what Higgs had just witnessed.

  But they’d all been distant and muted words until now, and my frustration, my fear of being found out, Higgs’s wide-eyed disbelief, the horror all over his handsome face, all came crashing down around my ears.

  Seeing me that way, violent and raging, had to be an ugly experience, even for an ex-undercover cop who’d seen more violence than most. And I hated it. I hated that he’d seen me behave like a rabid animal, frothing at the mouth and struggling against Coop, who literally was the only person who could contain me.

  But there was no going back now. If I had any hope of salvaging this friendship we’d built, one on the precipice of something more substantial, he deserved to know who I truly was.

  And if he walked away, I’d hurt for the rest of my life because of it. He might put a pin of dissolution in my bubble, but I’d live. As sad as that would make me, I’d manage.

  I’d lost before and come out all right on the other end. I’d do it again if
need be, if this was just too much for him to handle.

  “Higgs,” Coop warned, her raspy voice hissing against the walls of Father Rico’s office. “Will you listen?”

  I know Higgs pretty well, but the one thing I can’t ever say I’ve seen in his chocolate-brown eyes is horror. He’s been fearful in his very stoic sort of way, he’s been surprised, hurt, but never horrified—and each time he looked at me, he was just that.

  Horrified.

  I knew his mind was whizzing with possibilities for what he’d just witnessed, trying to absorb and parse my vile behavior, but he couldn’t, and it left him stupefied.

  Keeping my hands at my side, I fisted them and hobbled to him with caution. From past experience, I knew my hair was a rat’s nest of a mess, my eyes were likely bloodshot and red rimmed, and my face streaked with tears.

  Add in the certainty of bruises from my fight with Emile Franklin, and I probably looked pretty scary. So I went with caution, and he continued to back up as far as he could without actually climbing out the window.

  Bracing my hands on Father Rico’s desk, I looked him in the eye. “Higgs,” I whispered, my throat raw from the screaming I hear I always do when Artur takes over. “I know you’re afraid, but I need you to hear me. Please just hear what I have to say. Please.”

  Higgs blinked then, the fringe of his lashes sweeping his cheeks as he leaned back against the wall. His body language said he wanted nothing to do with me, but I saw his head and his heart war with the notion.

  That’s when he held up a hand and finally addressed me, his words contained, measured, his jaw tight and clenched. “I want to say I’ll always listen to you, Trixie. I never thought that would ever change…but I’m going to be as honest as I can right now and try to maintain some piece of my sanity. I don’t know what I’m capable of actually hearing, or if I can absorb what you’re going to say. But I want to, Trixie. I. Want. To.”