Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2) by Alice Loweecey Page A

back tomorrow. It would be tonight, but the paint on the furniture has to set,” Mac said. “Now my house insurance rates will go up. Come on. I’m all yours.”
    Mac deposited the coffee cups in the kitchen and Giulia went out to the porch to scratch the white-muzzled beagle behind the ears.
    “All the guests spoil Jabberwocky.” Mac continued down the steps.
    Giulia followed her into the carriage house. Unlike the studied antique restoration décor of the B&B, Mac’s private house was spare, clean, and modern. Giulia slipped off her sneakers to walk on the cream-colored rugs.
    Mac sat on the center cushion of a pale green couch. Giulia chose a complementary armchair in coral and opened her iPad. “No ghost has visited me in the Sand Dollar room.”
    Mac fidgeted with something in her pocket. Giulia refrained from quoting Tolkien, even though Gollum’s voice in her head said, “What has she got in her pocketses?” She also kept last night’s spectral sobs and white nightgown sighting to herself for now.
    “Is today’s newspaper correct? Was it arson last night?”
    Mac leaned forward as though she were leaping at a safe conversation opening. “Another advantage of small town life: No official backlogs. They found a small container of lighter fluid in the fire pit. It wasn’t the brand we use here.”
    “And the office?” Giulia typed it all in.
    Mac made a face. “No fingerprints except mine and Lucy’s, of course, and a solid smudge of prints on the screen door. Useless.”
    “That’s unfortunate.”
    Mac snorted. “You could say so.” Her phone rang. “Excuse me. Yes?...Damn that thieving bastard…Thank you…Good…Thank you.” She stopped her hand’s downward motion only a few inches short of slamming the phone on the coffee table. “Our firebug used my credit card at the Walmart over in Meadville. Kept it to twenty-four dollars’ worth of stuff so he didn’t have to sign for it. The police are checking the video feed.”
    Giulia hit save. “Ghosts don’t need to shop at Walmart.”
    Mac didn’t smile. “Maybe not, but this ghost could be causing this run of bad luck.”
    Excellent. When the client gives the proper opening they don’t feel coerced.
    “What bad luck? Specifics, please.”
    “Right. We’ve had two other accidents in the last three weeks. A water pipe burst last week. Pipes don’t burst in summer weather. Before you ask, yes, I had all new pipes installed as part of the renovations. The break flooded part of the cellar. I lost some supplies and my guests had to take cold showers for two days. I took a percentage off everyone’s bills for that.”
    “What did the plumbers say?”
    “A fat lot of nothing. They tossed a bunch of jargon at me that netted out to they had no clue what caused the accident.”
    Giulia flexed her hands. The miniature keyboard on her tablet took some getting used to.
    “Are you ready? Three days ago I came over to the B&B earlier than usual and the whole working kitchen reeked of gas. I ran downstairs and shut off the feed. Everything down there was normal. I called Lucy and she came over early. Together we took apart the stove. One of the hoses at the back was unscrewed.”
    Giulia opened her mouth.
    “Don’t you tell me that ghosts can’t tamper with gas lines.”
    Giulia’s “no snapping at the client” count got as far as seven when Mac said, “Now get ready. This is what I expect from you.”
    “No.” Giulia didn’t snap, exactly. “First I need several things from you. A list of your recurring guests and the weeks they usually stay, with addresses and phone numbers. The addresses and phone numbers for you and your employees, including the new psychic. Any threatening emails or letters you may have received since the date your problems began.”
    A mottled red flush crept from Mac’s collar up her long neck. Her lips thinned to invisibility. If the waves of anger and offense surging from her were supposed to intimidate