by Terri Reid
“Yes, he knows about it,” Mary said. “And he insisted that I call in some special help. So, we’re hoping that Ian will come back to help.”
“Ian,” Linda replied with a smile. “Well, it will be good to have him back in Freeport for a while. Will he be bringing his black shirt with him?”
A surprised burst of laughter popped from Mary and she clapped her hand over her mouth to hold it back. “Linda,” she scolded, still chuckling. “You’re a newly married woman.”
“I’m married, not dead,” Linda replied with a saucy grin. “Besides, I’m looking out for all of the women in Freeport, not just me.”
“How generous of you,” Mary replied with an answering smile. “I’ll make sure Bradley asks him to bring it along.”
“And, you know, if you have a moment and he wants to stop by…” Linda added.
“Well, really, it would be a waste for him to come all the way to Freeport and not stop in here,” Mary said.
“You really are a good friend,” Linda said and then she lowered her voice once again. “But all kidding aside, be very careful with this investigation. You’re not quite as spry as you used to be.”
Mary stepped back from the counter and looked down at her protruding belly. “Don’t worry, Linda. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize this guy,” she said. “I do understand my limitations.”
“Well, good,” she replied. “I know you’re an amazing woman and you can pretty much handle anything, but I have to admit I’m really relieved Ian will be helping you. And if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”
“Thanks, Linda,” Mary replied, moving back towards the door. “I’ll remember that.”
“And don’t forget about the black shirt,” Linda called.
Shaking her head, Mary touched the button to call the elevator. “I’ll make sure that’s a priority.”
Chapter Twenty-one
When she finally got back to her office, Mary was delighted by the cheery Halloween display in the front of her office. Paul had situated everything perfectly and had even draped some tiny white lights in the background to give the impression of stars sparkling at night. Rather than being scary, it was a warm and friendly Halloween scene, and Mary could almost hear the shouts of children clamoring from house to house and dashing through piles of dried leaves as they collected their Halloween treats. She remembered her own trick-or-treating years when she and her brothers would take pillowcases for treat bags, and by the time the evening was over, the pillowcases were heavy with apples, popcorn balls, candy and coins.
The brief memory of her own childhood reminded her of Alison and her missing child. She walked over to her desk, quickly glanced over her emails and, after finding nothing pressing, decided there was no time like the present to make her first attempt to locate the adopted child.
Mary’s cell phone rang about a half-hour later as she drove down the rural roads towards the old convent that was located just beyond the Wisconsin state line. The caller ID appeared on her hands-free, phone display and she smiled as she pressed the button. “Hi, sweetheart,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Well, Ian wants to know what’s for dinner tonight,” Bradley said with a chuckle. “I still don’t understand how that guy eats as much as he does and stays so fit.”
“Must be good genes,” Mary replied. “So, what did you tell him?”
“I told him I was calling Rosie and inviting us all over to her house for dinner,” he replied. “So he’s already on his way.”
Mary laughed out loud. “Really? He’s coming today?” she asked.
“Yes. He said he needed a little time out of the city and would love to see everyone again,” he answered. “So, should I call Rosie?”
“No,” she said slowly.
“No? You’re going to cook dinner?” he asked.
“Well, don’t sound so surprised,” she replied and paused for a moment. “But no, I’ll call Rosie so I can pick up the ingredients and some dessert.”
“Good idea,” he said, trying to hide the laughter in his voice.
“I can still hear that you’re laughing,” she said.
“Not laughing,” he coughed. “Something in my throat.”
“You are such a liar,” she replied. “So, I visited with Linda this morning. There are no death records for Marty.”
“I’m running a background check on Sol,” he said. “If he turns out too dicey, we’re calling in someone else on this one.”
“Okay, deal,” she agreed. “In the meantime, I’m heading up to the convent in Wisconsin to see if I can get my hands on the records for Alison’s baby. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck,” he said. “You’ve got skills.”
She laughed. “Well, thank you,” she said. “Let’s see if those skills can get me what I need today.”
Once she finished the call with Bradley, she dialed Rosie’s number. “Hi Rosie, it’s Mary,” she said when Rosie picked up the phone. “I was wondering if you and Stanley had any plans for tonight.”
“No, nothing important,” Rosie replied. “Stanley and I were just planning on a quiet night at home. Do you need me to babysit Clarissa?”
“No, actually, I have a surprise for you. Ian is coming into town tonight. He’s here to help me on a case,” she said.
“Oh my word, how wonderful!” Rosie exclaimed and Mary could hear the excitement in her voice. “Why, I haven’t seen him in ages. Will he be here in time for dinner?”
“Well, actually, that’s why I’m calling,” Mary said.
“Oh, Mary,” Rosie interrupted. “I know this is frightfully forward of me, but would you mind if I cooked dinner? I did so enjoy cooking for Ian, and I know how busy you are.”
“I would love to have you cook,” Mary replied eagerly. “Actually, I was hoping you’d volunteer. What ingredients do you want me to pick up?”
“Well, let me think about it and get back to you,” Rosie replied. “I want to look through my recipes and decide what to make. Oh, this will be so much fun! Does Clarissa know?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Mary said. “She’ll probably want to invite Maggie over when she finds out.”
“Well, why don’t we just invite the whole Brennan clan?” Rosie asked. “I’ll make something like a big pot of chili or a stew.”
“That sounds perfect,” Mary said. “I’ll give Katie a call and invite them. You are amazing, Rosie.”
Rosie giggled with delight. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she said, pausing for just a moment. “But it’s so nice to hear you say it. Now, are you in town?”
“No, I’m heading up to Wisconsin right now,” Mary replied. “But I should be back by early afternoon to help you.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Rosie said. “You’re going up there to find out about that poor woman’s baby, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” Mary nodded. “Wish me luck.”
“Oh, you won’t need luck,” Rosie said confidently. “You’ll have them eating out of your hand in minutes. I’m just sure they will be able to help you.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“I’m afraid we can’t help you,” the stern-faced nun on the other side of the desk stated bluntly. “There’s nothing we can do.”
Mary had arrived at the convent twenty minutes earlier. The institution sat up on the top of a hill surrounded by a huge arboretum with smaller meditating gardens and a number of small, brick-lined, narrow paths that led throughout the acreage. The facilities consisted of the convent, a large school and a smaller brick building that had few windows and seemed more like a factory than a religious institution.
Parking her car near the convent, Mary got out and decided to wander the grounds for a few moments before she went up to the office. The air was crisp and the trees surrounding her were still bathed in the full glory of autumn. She walked down the hill, away from the parking lot, and the first garden she encountered was a shade garden filled with hostas of every size and c
olor. They were planted underneath and around a cedar pergola in the shade of a grove of oak trees. There were a number of small, cedar benches scattered throughout the area and Mary walked over to one situated under the largest oak and sat down.
“This is one of my favorite spots, too.”
Mary was startled to find that she was sitting next to the ghost of an elderly nun dressed in a black habit with a long, silver and black rosary around her neck. She turned slightly towards the nun and smiled. “I can see why it would be,” she said. “It’s very peaceful here.”
“Are you one of our girls?” the nun asked. “You know, you’re not supposed to be outside in your condition.”
The nun looked pointedly at Mary’s belly and then she shook her head. “You know you must follow the rules,” she continued. “You agreed to them when you came.”
Deciding she wanted to learn more from the nun, Mary played along. “What rules?” she asked. “Sister?”
“Sister Bernadette. The contract you signed when you came to live with us,” the nun replied impatiently. “Whether you or your parents signed it, it’s still binding and legal.”
“But what if I didn’t want to come here?” Mary said.
“You made that choice when you decided to lay with a young man out of wedlock,” Sister Bernadette replied harshly. “You will learn that there are consequences to your actions.”
“I want to keep my baby,” Mary said, placing her hands protectively on her lap.
“That’s not an option,” Sister Bernadette replied, and this time her voice was tinged with regret.
“Why isn’t it?” Mary asked. “I’ll get a job. I can raise my child.”
“Think of the others,” the nun replied.
“What others?” Mary asked.
“The other girls who are here,” Sister Bernadette continued. “Those who have no ability or desire to find a job. We need the funds from the placement of the children to run our facility.”
“You sell our babies?” Mary asked, astonished.
Sister Bernadette quickly shook her head. “No, of course not,” she immediately replied. “We charge a placement fee, that’s all. It just covers some of the expenses for housing you girls while you prepare to give birth.”
“I thought the factory work paid for our room and board,” Mary ventured, hoping to learn a little more about the work they did.
“Factory?” Sister Bernadette replied, confused. Then her face cleared and she nodded. “You mean the laundry? Well, that brings in funds, of course, but not nearly enough.”
Mary studied the elderly nun’s eyes and saw the sadness there. “Are you sure?” Mary asked. “Are you sure the money from the laundry didn’t bring in enough money? Are you sure you needed to steal the infants from these young women and break their hearts? Are you really sure you needed to do this?”
Sister Bernadette’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “No,” she whispered, her voice thick with grief. “No, I’m not sure at all.”
And then she faded away until Mary was once again alone in the shaded garden.
Rising, Mary slowly walked from the gardens up the path towards the main building. The path was bordered with flowers, some summer flowers that were still in bloom mixed in with spicy chrysanthemums. But the colors and scents didn’t bring Mary the pleasure they usually did. Instead they reminded her of the flowers at a funeral, something beautiful trying to disguise something very sad.
She entered the huge, stone building, walked to the main office and was immediately greeted by a friendly young woman who was dressed in a more modern version of a habit, lighter in color and a little shorter than Sister Bernadette’s. “May I help you?” the nun asked.
Mary offered her friendliest smile and nodded. “Yes, I certainly hope so,” she said. “I’ve been engaged by an elderly woman to locate information about a child that was placed for adoption from your facility. I have the birthdates, the child’s given name at birth and the mother’s maiden name. And now that the child is no longer a minor, I understand the information can be released.”
She handed the woman a piece of paper with all of the information on it. “If you would just check your records,” Mary urged.
The smile faded on the young woman’s face. She took the paper and nodded. “If you will just wait one moment,” she said. “I’ll need to call the Mother Superior to help you.”
Mary found herself sitting on a hard, wooden bench for ten minutes until she was summoned into another office. The room was very modest, the furniture sparse, and the only ornamentation were religious artifacts on the wall. The woman sitting behind the desk seemed to fit her surroundings. She was thin and birdlike, her small, dark eyes darting nervously around the room before resting on Mary and then quickly on Mary’s belly.
“So, I can see that you have more in common with your client than my secretary stated,” she snapped derisively.
“I beg your pardon?” Mary replied, shocked at the tone in the woman’s voice.
“You and she are both…how shall I say it?” she pondered aloud, “Both carnal women rather than Godly women.”
Perched on the edge of the seat in front of the Mother Superior’s desk, Mary could feel her temper rise, but she fought back the angry words that were on the tip of her tongue. It will not help the situation if you call her a snake and tell her to bite the wall, she decided silently. Even though it would feel really good.
“I suppose that we are alike because we have both been blessed in being able to join with God in the miracle of life,” she finally replied, trying to do her best to say what she thought her mother would say in this situation. “She also gave birth to two wonderful sons who love her very much. But whether a woman is able to bear children or not, I believe that God judges her by her good works and what’s in her heart.”
So, what’s in your heart, you angry, old reptile? Mary thought, though her face remained passively pleasant.
Mother Superior snorted scornfully and shifted some papers on her desk. “Well, I’m sure some day we will find out how God judges us, won’t we?” she asked.
Mary continued to smile, even though her jaw was beginning to ache at the strain, and nodded. “Yes, I suppose we will. And now, about the records.”
“I’m afraid we can’t help you,” the nun replied. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“You don’t have the records?” Mary asked.
“Whether we do or don’t is irrelevant,” she replied, shrugging easily. “We do not share that kind of information. It is confidential and each young woman signed a contract when she entered the facility.”
“If the young woman was a minor, she cannot be held to the directives of the contract,” Mary countered.
“Which is why we also had their legal guardians sign the contract,” Mother Superior replied with a satisfied smile. “We have lawyers, too, and they have reviewed our records and found nothing wanting.”
“Except, perhaps, a conscience,” Mary blurted out before she could help herself.
The nun’s face turned red and she stood up very slowly. “I believe this conversation is over,” she replied. “I’m sure you can see yourself out as you certainly found your way in here.”
Mary stood. “I’m not giving up,” she replied. “I will get hold of those records.”
The nun met Mary’s eyes and shook her head, an angry smile on her face. “Well, you know, records do have an unfortunate history of getting lost or being destroyed by fire. Who knows what happened to the records you are searching for? The adoption was a long time ago.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Enraged, Mary knew that she needed to calm down before she began her drive back to Freeport. She stormed past her car and walked down the narrow paths that wound their way throughout the facility. “Carnal woman?” she muttered angrily. “Who the he…” She paused, recalling where she was and inhaled sharply. “…heck is she to call anyone anything?”
Striding forw
ard, her mind distracted with the conversation she’d just had, she hadn’t noticed where she was walking and was surprised to find herself at the entrance to a small cemetery hidden in the midst of the gardens. The old, wrought-iron, double gates were open and Mary stepped through to the well-manicured lawn and collection of ancient and modern headstones. The anger left her body as she stepped forward on the sacred ground, feeling an overwhelming calm and peace.
In the middle of the cemetery was a large, bronze statue of the Virgin Mary, her hands outstretched and a patient and loving smile on her face. “I wonder how she would feel about the term carnal woman?” Mary muttered as she moved closer.
“She would have hated it.”
Mary turned to find the old nun from earlier standing just behind her. “I think you’re right,” Mary agreed. “I think she would have felt compassion for the young women who found themselves pregnant and unmarried.”
Nodding, Sister Bernadette turned away from the statue and glided across the cemetery to a collection of small gravestones on the farthest edge. Mary followed her and was dismayed to find a collection of infant graves hidden under the shade of one of the giant, oak trees. “These were the ones we couldn’t save,” Sister Bernadette said, a translucent tear slipping down her cheek.
“Why so many?” Mary asked.
“We were not skilled, not prepared for the complications of some of the births,” she explained.
“But you could have called doctors or midwives,” Mary replied.
“We were told that by the time they would have reached us…” she began and then she sighed deeply. “But we will never know, will we?”
“The girls?” Mary asked horrified.
The nun glided a little farther away and Mary followed, looking down on several rows of small, very plain gravestones with the names of the young girls listed upon them. “Didn’t anyone stop this?” she asked.
Lifting her head, regret in her eyes, Sister Bernadette shook her head. “No one,” she said sadly. “These girls and their children were forgotten.”