Nun Too Soon (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 1) (23 page)

Thirty-Eight

Giulia awoke at five a.m. and slipped out of bed without jostling Frank.

She threw on lounge pants and a sweatshirt and tiptoed downstairs to start coffee. While it brewed, she opted for pen and paper to outline the final report. Her eyes threatened to mutiny at the mere thought of an LED screen at this hour.

AtlanticEdge Findings

Based on Driscoll Investigations’ analysis of video surveillance footage, bookkeeping ledgers, purchase orders, and check scans for the three-year period in question, we have reached the following conclusions.

Giulia added several bullet points about Tulley and Fitch. Loriela too, with a footnote to be written explaining that her involvement up to her death was a deduction without actual proof.

“I’ll need to scan in the lists we made and add them to the PO scans, plus the corresponding pages from the books. This PowerPoint is going to be huge.”

The coffee finished brewing. She chose a Monet water lilies teacup from the cupboard and the caramel creamer from the fridge. With the practiced hand of the desperate, she poured the fragrant, life-giving fluid into the narrow china cup.

The first hot, delicious mouthful warmed her inside and out. With renewed purpose, she flipped over those pages and started her report for Colby Petit.

No PowerPoint for this one. Using the same reporting format, she began:

Based on the evidence and Driscoll Investigations’ analysis, it is our conclusion that Leonard Tully is the murderer of Loriela Gil. However, it is also our conclusion that Roger Fitch was the driving force behind the murder. In addition, we have compiled evidence that this murder was part of ongoing embezzlement at AtlanticEdge by Fitch, Tulley, and possibly Loriela Gil herself. There is also evidence of ancillary money laundering at the Long Neck bar by Fitch and Tulley.

Following are the facts on which we base these conclusions, beginning with the AtlanticEdge embezzlement.

She filled three more pages, drawing in big boxes labeled CHECKING ACCOUNT and LONG NECK DEPOSITS and TULLEY SCREENCAPS FROM MURDER NIGHT PHOTOS.

Corroborating information from AtlanticEdge would have buttressed their case, but there was only so far Giulia could walk the tightrope of Fitch as Killer vs. Fitch as Thief. Sharing confidential AtlanticEdge information wasn’t one of them. As it was, she could barely stand on the narrow ledge she’d created for herself by taking on these two cases.

The first cup of coffee was long gone by the time she had the summary in a format Zane could work with. She poured another cup and added creamer.

Now the phone. She’d turned it off at eleven o’clock after she left the message for Petit, thereby achieving six whole hours of sleep. Sure enough, when the phone powered on, a red number four appeared over the little telephone icon. A red twelve covered the top corner of the missed calls icon. She took a long drink of coffee. There was no way she could take an incensed Fitch without assistance, even a recorded Fitch.

She dialed voicemail. It was Petit, not Fitch. Weariness and strain thinned the lawyer’s voice.

“Ms. Driscoll, I’ve called several times and you’re not picking up. It’s after midnight. I need details. The message you left earlier was so sparse as to be nonexistent. Please return my call as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“Mr. Petit,” she said to the screen, “you should try yoga. It helps relieve stress.”

Another few sips of coffee and she pressed the next message button. The expected voice hit her ear. He didn’t bother with a salutation.

“I’m going to tell everyone that Driscoll Investigations is nothing but a front for thieves and con artists.”

Somehow Fitch too angry to scream was nowhere near as cartoonish as Fitch at full volume and spitting mad.

The message continued. “Colby called and said you had news for us. Said you didn’t leave any details in your message. He thinks there’s hope. I think you’re full of it.”

That message ended and she pressed the next one.

“Pick up your phone, you bitch!”

Ah, the real Roger Fitch is back.
She moved the phone away from her ear.

“I called you six times in the last hour! Don’t you stonewall me or I’ll come to your cozy little house and show you what happens to women who don’t behave!”

Frank’s hand came over her shoulder and hit the end button. Giulia jumped and gasped and dropped the phone.

“I believe that’s an actionable threat,” her husband said. “I do like it when the scumbags take care of our work for us.”

“If you give me a heart attack you can’t blame it on Fitch.” Giulia kissed him. “Want some coffee? What time is it now?”

“Yes, please, and it’s ten after six.”

“I need a mental health day. Preferably at a girly spa with aromatherapy and pedicures.” She poured coffee for Frank.

“I can think of a better way to relax.”

Frank put his hands on her hips and kissed her neck.

“There’s men’s ways to relax and there’s women’s ways to relax.” Giulia leaned against him and moved her hair out of the way of Frank’s lips.

Frank kissed more of her neck. “Right now they look the same to me.”

Her skin muffled his voice. Right now she agreed with him...

Giulia channeled her inner workaholic and extracted herself.

“Here. Coffee. I have another voicemail to endure before I shower and get to the office. We get to wrap up two cases today.”

“Cruel woman. Put this one on speaker.”

The timestamp on this last message read 1:15 a.m.

“You’re sound asleep, aren’t you?” Fitch’s voice slurred a little. “Think you’re safe in your bed with your big, bad cop hus-sband next to you, huh? Lori thought she was safe in bed next to me ’til s-somebody opened the balcony door.” He laughed, belched, and hung up.

Giulia flicked the phone across the kitchen table. “Everything that man does and says is slimy.”

Frank was smiling. “You don’t appreciate the little gifts he just left us. If you’re right—and I think you are—concluding he finagled his co-embezzler into killing Gil, a good lawyer can use those two messages to bolster that part of the case. The prosecuting attorney for Fitch’s trial is a very good lawyer.”

Giulia considered that. “Then why did he allow Fitch to delay the trial for us to chase this wild goose?”

Frank shrugged. “Strategy. He wanted the extra time to refine his case. Also, hiring you gave Fitch more rope to hang himself. Win-win for the other side.”

“But he didn’t win. Fitch didn’t kill Loriela. I’m even more sure this morning now that I’ve got it down in order on paper. Petit will be able to get an acquittal on reasonable doubt. You know he will. He’s that good.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. The state will find enough to indict the other guy and will find ways to work around the fact that all this new evidence is circumstantial like the Fitch evidence. From what you’ve said about the other guy, he’ll stab Fitch in the back to get a reduced sentence, and that will be that. I’m not even counting the embezzlement issue, which will put both of them in jail anyway.” Frank downed the rest of his coffee and grinned. “I hope they get assigned to the same cell.”

Giulia stood and brought her cup to the sink. “When I asked Fitch about his pregnant ex-girlfriend he talked about backstabbing. Tulley was the one who told me about her. I should’ve picked up on their rivalry earlier.” She rinsed the cup and put it in the dishwasher. “Today might be another long day. We have to get everything to Fitch’s lawyer before noon and I want to complete the AtlanticEdge report by five.”

“I will revitalize your day by opening the door for you tonight wearing only a kilt and a smile.”

Giulia splurted a laugh. “I dare you.”

Thirty-Nine

Giulia left identical voicemails for Sidney and Zane: “I’m bringing breakfast.” That meant the Garden of Delights, which was worth every extra minute in rush-hour traffic. She positioned the logo side of the box so it preceded her into the office.

Sidney squealed. “You are the best boss ever.”

“Whoa,” Zane said. “Thanks.”

“It was the obvious choice.” Giulia searched for a place to set down the box. “Sidney, you’re right. We need a table in here.”

A cough from behind Sidney’s monitor sounded a lot like “I told you so.”

“Set it on this corner.” Zane dumped his desk calendar and unfinished projects on his chair. “Dibs on first choice.”

“Weasel,” Sidney said. “Doesn’t matter, anyway, because we don’t eat the same things.”

Giulia passed out two cups of coffee and one of peppermint tea.

“Jane, I don’t know your caffeine preference, so I got sugar and creamers on the side.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Jane held the paper cup like she’d been transported direct to Christmas morning.

“Sidney, these are almond with raspberry cream and carrot with raw milk cream cheese.” Giulia handed her two cupcakes on a Garden logo paper plate. “For the rest of us, I got an assortment: Two each of tiramisu, triple chocolate, strawberry shortcake, and snickerdoodle. The shortcakes are vegan too, if mini-Sidney is particularly ravenous this morning.”

For several minutes silence reigned in the office. Giulia finished her second cupcake and tossed the paper in Zane’s trash can.

“Tiramisu,” she said.

“Triple chocolate,” Zane said. “You can never beat three kinds of chocolate in one.”

“If you people would ever try their vegan cupcakes,” Sidney said, “you’d see that the almond-raspberry is unsurpassable.”

Jane said in a hesitant voice, “Snickerdoodle?”

“See, the texture is all wrong for me,” Giulia said. “My mouth agrees with the taste, but can’t accept that it’s not flat and chewy. Same with the shortcake, but the strawberry whipped cream filling makes up for it.”

The phone rang.

“Interlude over,” Zane said.

“Alas,” Giulia said. She lowered her voice so Zane could hear the caller. “Go ahead with training, both of you. Zane and I will type our fingers raw for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks for breakfast,” Jane said.

“It’s not a regular thing,” Giulia said. “Driscoll Investigations went above and beyond yesterday.”

Zane hung up the phone.

“New client.” He wrote on a miniature legal pad. “Wants you to call him. Nothing urgent.”

“That’s good, because we don’t have space for urgent today. I’ll take the AtlanticEdge report because I wrote up Fitch’s case in a lot more detail.”

Giulia closed her door, opened the window and typed. Not twenty minutes later, the phone rang. Her buzzer sounded right after.

“Sorry, Ms. Driscoll, but it’s Leonard Tulley. I thought you might want to take this one.”

“You thought right. Thanks.”

The transfer button turned red. She switched mental gears and pressed the button.

“This is Giulia Falcone-Driscoll, Mr. Tulley. How may I help you?”

“Remember when I told you about Roger and Colby’s  high school rivalry and then about his pregnant ex?” His voice was sharp without the lazy-guy camouflage.

How about “Good morning, Ms. F-D. Thanks for taking my call.”
All she said out loud was, “Yes.”

“Did you tell Roger I told you about them?”

Giulia stiffened. “Certainly not. We are professionals.”

“Didn’t think so. Well, somebody told him, or he figured it out for himself, because he kept looking at me with his snake face yesterday.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Jeez, don’t you ever watch Animal Planet? When a snake’s on the hunt it gets real still and its face sorta loses all expression. I know snakes don’t have facial expressions. I’m not stupid. But it’s like they get an aura or something.”

“Mr. Tulley, I’m not sure what your point is. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I dunno. You own a mongoose?”

Giulia laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but that was a funny question. No, I don’t own a mongoose. Are you worried that Mr. Fitch will try to retaliate for something he thinks you’ve done?”

“You’re not the brightest bulb in the box, are you? I thought you had brains. Of course I’m worried. When Roger likes you, the world is perfect. If he changes his mind, watch your back. Free advice. Take it.” He was silent for a moment. “It might have been my ex who talked to him. We got hammered a couple of times and I could’ve said something. Women. Can’t trust ’em. Bye.”

Giulia hung up the phone without slamming it. Tulley had more than an angry Roger Fitch to worry about. In a week or so, depending on how fast AtlanticEdge acted on the report she was writing, Tulley would be scrambling for bail money. What he’d stolen from them might not be enough to cover it.

She dismissed Tulley from her mind and typed for the next three hours. The traffic noises kept her alert, especially the occasional siren. The phone rang twice, but Zane didn’t buzz her. She’d inserted the first screencap when Zane knocked on her door.

“Ms. Driscoll, I’ve got the summary typed up. Want me to bring it in?’

“I’ll come out.” She un-hunched and opened the door. “Oh, look. Four different walls.”

Zane was alone in the office. “The other two went to lunch.”

“Sure. Let’s see what we’ve got.” She walked around the office as she read, green pen in hand. “Good...good...no, I should’ve fleshed this part out more.” She bent over Sidney’s desk and added a few sentences. “Typo...Bah, that’s not what I want it to say.” She scratched out a paragraph and wrote several more sentences. “In conclusion...yes...not dramatic...logical. Good.”

She handed it back to Zane. “It doesn’t read too much like I wrote it at five o’clock this morning. Make those changes, please, and we’ll send it to Petit along with all the documents he gave me. Which reminds me: I’d better put them back together.”

Zane started retyping and Giulia took the rest of the Clue Collage apart. She carried them into her office and closed the window so they wouldn’t blow around the room. Then she tipped everything out of the courier box and began to jog the removed pages back into their original places.

The phone rang.

“I’ll get it.” She picked up. “Driscoll Investigations.”

“Ms. Falcone-Driscoll?” Colby Petit’s voice. “Is that you?”

She closed her eyes and channeled her inner admin. “Yes, Mr. Petit. We’re finishing up our final report right now.”

“Oh, terrific. I knew you’d come through. But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m neck-deep in last-minute preparations and I can’t get hold of Roger.”

“I’m sorry; is there something you think I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes. How close are you really to finishing the report for me?”

“I should have it to you by two o’clock.”

“No, that’s too late.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh. Sorry. I was thinking out loud.” His voice added an extra layer of charm. “It’s a huge favor, but would you be able to drive over to his apartment and drag him down to my office? He lost his temper last night and might have turned off his phone. I can’t get hold of him and there’s no one here I can ask to go over there. I don’t rate my own errand-runner.”

Giulia pounded her forehead on her desk. Did the man think no one besides himself had a desk full of work?

“Ms. Driscoll?”

Then again, the sooner she helped him, the sooner they’d both be off her back.

“I can squeeze it in, Mr. Petit.”

“Wonderful. You’re a life saver. I don’t care if he’s in his boxers and so hungover a whisper makes him cringe. All I ask is you throw him in your car and bring him to me.”

“I would care if he’s wearing nothing but boxers, but I get your point. Expect him in about an hour.”

Zane was still typing when she took her jacket and purse off the coat rack.

“I’m going over to Fitch’s apartment to drag his lazy butt out of bed. He turned off his phone and Petit needs him.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“I called Petit last night with the highlights of what we found and he had the brilliant idea to tell Fitch.”

Zane winced.

“For a lawyer he doesn’t score high on the common sense scale.”

“Olivier should get Petit into his office for a few sessions. Look at the way Petit is hanging onto a grudge from high school and trying to be the bigger person about it at the same time.” She checked the time. “I’ll be back in less than an hour if the traffic cooperates.”

Zane made a move toward his leather jacket. “I should come with you. You know, as muscle.”

“You were great on Saturday, but he won’t be a problem this time.” As soon as the words left her mouth, one of Frank’s lectures began playing in her head: Don’t underestimate any criminal suspect. Cornered animals attack.

“Are you sure?”

Giulia smiled at him. “You sound like Frank. Don’t worry. He’s either hung over or sleeping it off. I was a star pupil at my self-defense classes. I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m packing heat.” She laughed at the expression on Zane’s face. “I’m also going to take great pleasure in banging on Fitch’s door as loud as possible.”

Zane grinned. “Try to film it. We can upload it to YouTube under a throwaway account.”

“Don’t tempt me.”