Nun Too Soon (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 1) by Alice Loweecey Page A

drooping off the edge of the second-floor balcony. Then, as though she too had used the bushes as a stepping stone up to the wrought-iron railing, Loriela’s body lying in the corner, the open glass door, the neat circle cut from the glass above the deadbolt. In the third row, the soaked carpet from where the rain had blown in when the killer had opened the door to steal, according to the police report, wallets and laptops.
    The footprints on the carpet trailing mulch and bits of grass. The rumpled bedcovers. The open purse on the kitchen counter. In the office-slash-den, two rectangles of dust-free table where two laptops used to be.
    The rest of the photos covered the square footage of the entire apartment. Master bedroom, hall, spare bedroom turned into the den which still contained an Xbox and flat screen TV, kitchen with marble-topped island and dining space, living room with another flat-screen TV. Walk-in closets in each bedroom, one and a half bathrooms, a tiny laundry room off the kitchen.
    “Their rent must be as much as our mortgage.”
    A knock and the door opened. “I’m heading out to my baby checkup,” Sidney said.
    “It’s four o’clock already? No wonder my muscles have locked up.” Giulia un-knotted herself. “See you tomorrow.”
    “I promise not to drive over any railroad tracks.” Her slower than usual footsteps retreated ’til the main door closed behind her.
    Giulia twisted left and right, easing her back and shoulder muscles. So much left to read. She’d filled seven and a half pages of the legal pad. At this stage she liked to scribble and rewrite and draw lines between connections rather than type into her tablet.
    She’d had to keep the window closed so the papers wouldn’t blow all over and the air in her office was dead. Plus she didn’t want to spend the night on this hard floor.
    That settled it. She stacked the photos in reverse order and slid them into their envelope. Returning all the documents to the shipping box went much faster now that she had a handle on their order. Her first action after closing the box was to open the window.
    “Brr. False spring lived up to its name.” She inhaled the fresh air.
    When she opened the door, Zane’s right hand flailed at her. Her evil imp whispered that she ought to buy a hand-held flag at the dollar store for him to wave. Her good angel whapped the imp with its wing. Zane was sloughing off the insanity of his year in telemarketing, but it wouldn’t help to push things too soon.
    “Yes?” she said to him.
    “Ms. Driscoll, check this out.” He turned his monitor toward her. “The dumbed-down version of their proprietary software, the one sold online and in stores? There’s something off with the numbers.”
    Giulia grinned. “Excellent. Do you know what?”
    Zane’s shoulders slumped, emphasizing his weightlifter’s neck muscles. “No. But I will.”
    “I have perfect confidence in you.”
    Her admin looked up, his eyes studying her for sarcasm.
    “Yes, I mean it. I’m heading home for a quiet evening with cinnamon coffee and DNA reports.”
    “I can stay—”
    “No. We’re not on deadline with this job yet. Let it percolate.”
    His shy smile appeared. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve got a date.”

Nine

      
    “Are you going to work all night?” Frank’s voice hovered between plaintive and annoyed.
    “It’s only nine-thirty,” Giulia said from their living room floor. “I want to get a better handle on this DNA report.”
    With a deep sigh, Frank sat beside her. “Let me see it.”
    “I knew you’d say that.”
    “I have an ulterior motive,” her husband said as he studied the graphs and numbers. “I want dessert.”
    Giulia batted her eyes in the best cartoonish manner. “I’ve lost my allure so soon?”
    “Your espresso cake hasn’t.” Frank looked down at her. “I’m joking. Don’t look like that. But seriously I want a honking big piece of that cake before I take you to bed, wife