Nun But The Brave (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 3) by Alice Loweecey

handkerchief from her sleeve and snorted into it. “Back in my day, Sister Mary Catherine beat the catechism into us with a wooden pointer.” She stared at Giulia over the handkerchief. “Did Sister Immaculata put you in detention again?”
    A middle-aged woman in a nurse’s uniform hurried up to them. “Hortense, it’s quilting time. We have to get your puppy quilt supplies from your room.”
    The old woman huffed. “Nag, nag, nag.”
    The nurse put a knobby hand on Hortense’s arm, but the cane came up and the nurse backed off a step.
    “Leave me alone. I’m not feeble yet.” She reversed the cane and banged it on a crimson carpet triangle.
    The nurse made an apologetic face at Giulia, who smiled.
    A moment later, Hortense hooked her cane around the nurse’s elbow. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
    “I’m going with you to find your quilting basket.”
    “What are you waiting for, then?” She tugged the nurse closer with the cane. “Help me balance. Do your job.”
    “Ms. Driscoll?” Milo Chapers took the nurse’s place as she led her charge away. “What can I do for you?” He had the harried air of a middle manager saddled with an inexperienced staff.
    Giulia didn’t need Lady Rowan the psychic to tell her this man needed minions. “Is there an office where we can talk for a few minutes?”
    “What’s this all—” He glanced around at two wizened ladies a foot away comparing knitting patterns and a man looking at the daily activities sheet while adjusting his hearing aid. “Let’s use my office.”
    He led Giulia past the swinging door and opened the door after it. A bronze nameplate at eye level read “Food Services.”
    At least two managers shared the small office. On the right-hand wall hung several photos of a man and woman with a baby and a Scottie dog: in front of a Christmas tree, on a beach, at Halloween. On the left-hand wall two photos of Milo with an older man and woman: at a birthday party and crossing the finish line in a bicycle race. The top of the desk couldn’t be seen under in-out files, an outdated computer, and stacks of paper in various colors.
    Giulia sat on the edge of a doctor’s waiting room type chair and explained her purpose at Sunset Shores. Chapers changed his hassled expression for an annoyed one.
    “At first I was worried Ms. Philbey had met with foul play or an accident of some kind. But when her landlord and I entered her apartment, it appeared more like the living space of someone who had left for an extended vacation rather than of someone who expected to return home at any time. Do you see what I mean?”
    Giulia’s impression of him from his police statement had been correct. The man might have been born with a pole up his butt.
    She played a disingenuous card. “What exactly did the apartment look like?”
    “Every surface had been scrubbed clean. The refrigerator was empty. There was no open mail or an unfinished book on a table or even a newspaper in the recycle bin.” His narrow chest swelled.
    Giulia typed in her iPad as cover. Indignant Chapers looked way too much like the famous National Geographic photo of the angry bluebird. She said, “You assumed she simply walked away from her life here?”
    The bluebird’s feathers ruffled. “It was perfectly obvious to me. Her landlord disagreed, but he was likely thinking about the rent. The police agreed with my conclusion. I said as much to Ms. Philbey’s sister when she came here.”
    This hallway of an office would have been too small for such a confrontation. Giulia had to resort to the note-writing smokescreen again.
    A pager on Chapers’ hip went off. He frowned at the message on its small screen.
    “I’m afraid I have to truncate this interview. If you’ll come with me, I’ll introduce you to our morning chef. He was much more intimate with Joanne than I was.” His pale face flamed scarlet. “I mean, that is, I—”
    Giulia tucked her iPad in her messenger bag and stood. “I