Free A Novena for Murder by Carol Anne O'Marie

who stepped back to let her pass.
    Gallagher watched the trio maneuver their way out of room 450.
    “Why Bassetti?” he asked.
    “Wanted him to get a look at her. I can hardly wait to see what he thinks.”
    “What I’d be interested in is what
she
thinks.” Gallagher stared absently out at the James Lick Freeway.
    “Fill out, partner.” Kate pushed a pile of forms toward his desk.
    “What do you figure the fourth ‘L’ is?”
    “I know, and I’m pretty sure she does, too.”
    “What is it?”
    “Loathing.”
    “Loathing! How the hell do you know that?” Gallagher loosened his tie.
    Looking up, Kate smiled wickedly. “Because I read the same mystery books she does.”
    Jack Bassetti punched the elevator button. The three watched the red light crawl toward the fourth floor.
    “So, Sisters,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and nervously jingling some change. “So, you’re from Kate’s alma mater?”
    Smiling, he waited for one of the nuns to pick up the conversation.
    “Yes, we surely are.” Sister Eileen jumped right in, raving about Kate and how proud the college was of her. Mary Helen was relieved. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to just smile pleasantly and take a long, hard look at Jack Bassetti. So far she liked what she saw. Bassetti was a very personable young man who laughed and smiled easily. He was impeccably dressed, she noted. The creases in his gray flannels were razor sharp. The navy jacket fit perfectly, with just enough tailoring to emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow hips.
    Trying not to stare, Mary Helen felt sure his tie, which picked up both the gray and blue, must have designer’s initials on it somewhere. Probably doesn’t have that thick head of hair merely cut, she thought, I’ll bet he has it styled! Yes, Kate and he would make a very good-looking couple. The young man was full of Italian charm, yet she sensed a little uneasiness in him. Maybe he wasn’t used to nuns, or maybe there was something else. Maybe a little hanky-panky between him and Kate? Unexpectedly, her eyes met his. She could feel her face flush.
    Well, actually, she reminded herself, looking away, if that’s what it is, it is really none of your concern. Right now, you have your hands full with murder.
    The door of the elevator opened noiselessly. Bassetti held it while the two nuns edged into the crowd. His back to them, he pushed the button for the sixth floor.
    O’Donnell met them outside the elevator. Bassetti quickly turned over his charges. Mary Helen thought she caught a look of relief on his face as he pushed the elevator’s down button.
    Hot damn! Bassetti thought, stepping into the elevator. The inspector has definitely been inspected! He hoped Kate and Gallagher would still be in Homicide when he got there. He relished telling Kate she’d been outfoxed. Kate had wanted him to look the nun over, size her up. On the contrary, he had been the one looked over and very definitely sized up. Those old hazel eyes hadn’t missed a trick.
    Bassetti knew Gallagher would enjoy the irony. The big Irishman would loosen his tie, throw back his bald head, and let his horse laugh rock the Detail. He liked Gallagher. He sensed the older man’s disapproval of his and Kate’s living together. Although they had never talked about it, Bassetti knew Gallagher wanted them to marry. Hell, so did he! What could he do? The days of hitting a woman over her red head and dragging her into your cave were definitely over.
    Perhaps it was time for a new tack. Something about the little nun with the touch of brogue thinking Kate was such a lovely young woman, a credit to the college. Maybe he’d mention Sister Mary Helenpicking up on their attraction for one another. He was sure he was right about that. There must be some good, old-fashioned Catholic guilt in Kate somewhere. He’d hit upon it.
    Unfortunately, when Bassetti arrived back at Homicide, both Gallagher and Murphy were