Peril & Prayer

by Olivia Matthews

  “I’m not only concerned about the congregation’s relationship with the sheriff’s office.” Sister Lou returned her attention to Sister Barbara. “I promised Chris that I wouldn’t get involved in any more homicide cases.”

  Sister Barbara nodded her understanding. “I don’t want to put you in danger. Perhaps you could just ask a few questions? While you were looking into Maurice’s murder, you noticed things that the deputies had missed. Maybe that will happen again.”

  Such as why Kelsey didn’t mention Autumn’s cousin’s threat or why Rita didn’t bring up the businessman who wants to buy the resort. Those questions had been nagging at her since the deputies had interviewed them twenty-four hours ago.

  “I’ll call Rita and Kelsey and see if they’ve thought of anything else.” Surely, such an innocent question wouldn’t ruffle too many feathers in the sheriff’s office.

  “Thank you, Lou.”

  “I’ll let you know if I learn anything useful.” Sister Lou stood to leave.

  She intended to keep her word to her nephew to stop her amateur sleuthing, but did a few innocuous questions constitute breaking her promise?

  Chapter 12

  “Three of our longtime donors called me today. They’re . . . unhappy.” Chris sat on the other side of Sister Valerie Shaw’s desk late Tuesday afternoon. There was enough of a chill in the college president’s office for Chris to keep his classic-fit navy sport coat on.

  He didn’t relish bringing bad news to his boss, but the sooner he pulled off the proverbial adhesive bandage, the sooner the institution could deal with the pain. The first concerned donor had called before he’d met Shari for lunch, but Chris’s internal alarm hadn’t been tripped until he’d returned to his office and listened to the voicemail messages of two additional anxious supporters. That’s when he’d asked for this meeting with Sister Valerie.

  “Did their concerns have anything to do with the congregation being mentioned in today’s Telegraph article on Briar Coast’s latest murder?” Sister Valerie adjusted her tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses on her round face. Her normally cheerful brown eyes were troubled.

  “Did you know that donors would call because of the story?” In retrospect, he should have expected those calls.

  “No, but I should have. That’s my oversight. I guessed the reason for their calls because two donors contacted me, also.”

  Chris’s eyes widened with surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t have a chance until now.” Sister Valerie spread her hands. The gesture drew Chris’s attention to the blue, gold, and white Hermionean cross affixed to her warm rose blouse.

  Donors called the advancement office when they were uneasy about a matter. Calling the college president indicated a much greater disquiet.

  Five donors. Chris massaged the tightening muscles at the back of his neck. Those were just the people who’d called Sister Valerie and him. What about the ones who didn’t take the time to call, the ones who would stop supporting the institution without warning? “We need a response to address their concerns.”

  “I agree.” Sister Valerie’s gaze moved to the commencement photos affixed to one of her office walls. “Our plans for our students are too important to risk our relationships with our supporters.”

  Chris’s mind raced ahead, determining which contributors to contact, dividing them among his advancement team, and drafting the talking points for the call. “We also have to consider the relationships we’re building with new donors.”

  “Especially now when we have such an ambitious fund-raising goal.”

  Chris heard the distraction in Sister Valerie’s voice. It was more than stress. “What else is on your mind?”

  “I’m not certain a prepared response will be enough to allay our community’s concerns.” Sister Valerie broke the brief silence. “We need to do something extra before we have a mass exodus.”

  “What are your ideas?” He sensed she had at least one.

  The considering look in Sister Valerie’s brown eyes didn’t bode well. “You, the reporter Sharelle Henson, and Lou had success with your last murder investigation.”

  Chris felt the first stirrings of foreboding. “It was the sheriff’s office’s investigation, not ours.” According to his aunt and Shari, Fran and Ted were still angry.

  “But it was the three of you who cleared the congregation of any suspicion. You also solved the case.”

  “Neither the college nor the congregation are suspects this time.”

  “The college is connected to the congregation. The congregation was mentioned in the paper. To our donors, that connects both the congregation and the college to this murder, the second one in Briar Coast in three months.”

  It was a convoluted connection and far-fetched at best, but Sister Valerie had a point. People jumped to conclusions. It was human nature. Chris said, “Shari had to interview my aunt. She’s one of the people who found Autumn Tassler’s body.”

  Sister Valerie gave Chris a curious smile. “I’m not criticizing Ms. Henson, just making an observation.”

  Chris shifted on his chair. The urge to defend Shari had caught even him by surprise. “What does my aunt’s involvement in Dr. Jordan’s murder investigation have to do with this situation?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Chris realized the answer to his own question.

  “Could you talk with Lou about investigating this case, too?”

  The muscles in Chris’s neck and shoulders tightened with his instinct to protect the ones he loved. “Sister Valerie, I don’t want to involve my aunt in another homicide investigation. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t want to put Lou in danger, of course.” Sister Valerie inclined her head. “Perhaps the three of you could just ask a couple of people a few questions. My hope is that you’ll find something that will put some distance between this sad situation and the congregation.”

  That’s how it had started last time, with a few questions. Then his aunt had been threatened. Chris didn’t want to go through that again.

  He came to his feet. “First, let’s see how our donors respond to our outreach efforts.”

  Sister Valerie looked up at him. “Please keep me updated on the results.”

  “Of course.” Chris left Sister Valerie’s office, but other troubling thoughts left with him. If the president of the college was worried enough about its connection to Autumn Tassler’s murder to consider asking his aunt to investigate, how had the congregation reacted?

  * * *

  Sister Lou’s phone rang as she settled behind her desk at the congregational office. She’d just returned from a late lunch with Sister Carmen. Sister Barbara’s name and telephone extension popped onto her caller identification screen. “Hi, Barb.”

  “Lou.” The prioress’s greeting was warm but guarded. “Could you possibly join me in my office now? Deputies Cole and Tate are here. They stopped by to ask you, Marianna, and me a few questions about Autumn Tassler, and the congregation’s connection to her and her business. I realize that this request comes without any prior notice.”

  Sister Lou could envision the scolding look Sister Barbara gave the law enforcement officers as she made her final statement. That image would have brought a smile to her face if the memory of the congregation’s previous unpleasant encounter with the deputies wasn’t so vivid. Instead, her pulse raced and her heart pounded at the knowledge of the clash to come.

  During their last murder investigation, Fran and Ted had spent weeks interrogating each of the congregation’s sixty-three sisters before accepting what the sisters had been saying all along: they had nothing to do with Maurice’s murder.

  Is history repeating itself ? “I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you, Lou.” Sister Barbara rang off.

  Sister Lou sent a quick prayer for guidance and fortitude before exiting her office.

  Her footsteps were silent on the thick, warm rose carpeting as she strode down the wide hallway to the prio
ress’s office. Fluorescent lighting highlighted the pastel artwork framed on the pale gold walls. Hums of conversations and whispers of laughter drifted from the workstations and through the open doors of the breakroom and other offices along the way.

  Furtive glances leaped away before connecting with hers. Had news of the deputies’ meeting with the prioress and Sister Marianna cycled through the office already?

  Sister Lou knocked on Sister Barbara’s open office door. She nodded toward the deputies, Sister Barbara, and Sister Marianna as she closed the door behind her. Fran, Ted, and Sister Marianna had taken the three guest chairs, with Ted in the center and Fran’s chair beside the wall. Both deputies were in uniform, but whereas Fran looked freshly pressed, Ted looked like he’d slept in his clothes.

  “Thank you for coming, Lou.” Sister Barbara made it sound as though they were preparing for afternoon tea instead of a homicide investigation. She patted the arm of the chair beside her. “Paula loaned us a chair for this meeting. I hope you don’t mind sitting beside me.”

  Sister Paula Walton was a member of the leadership team whose office was one door down from the prioress’s.

  “I don’t mind at all.” The look she exchanged with Sister Barbara confirmed that the prioress also was remembering their earlier conversation about the murder investigation.

  Sister Lou settled onto the proffered chair. Fran inclined her head in greeting. Tendrils of her blond hair had broken free of the big, messy bun at the nape of her neck. Ted’s habitual frown marred the features of his wide face. His pale gray gaze challenged her.

  Sister Marianna’s pointed chin was set at a don’t-cross-me angle. Her thin lips were pursed in disapproval. Sister Lou empathized with the other woman. What did the deputies want from the congregation this time? That was the sixty-four-million-dollar question.

  Sister Barbara turned to the law enforcement officers. “How can we help you, Deputies?”

  “You can start by telling us what business you had with the Briar Coast Cabin Resort.” When he addressed the prioress, Ted’s tone was marginally more respectful than usual.

  Sister Lou narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. They’d had this conversation Monday. “As I explained yesterday, Deputy Tate, the congregation has contracted with the resort to host our annual Advent retreat.”

  Sister Marianna took up the explanation. “The Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Hermione of Ephesus conducts an annual weeklong Advent retreat to help us prepare our hearts and minds for the celebration of the anniversary of Jesus Christ’s birth.”

  Ted stared at Sister Marianna. His eyes were wide, his lips parted. “I’m getting flashbacks to Catholic school.”

  “It doesn’t appear that the training did any good.” Irritation crackled in Sister Marianna’s gray eyes. “You would have benefited from a few more years.”

  Sister Barbara redirected the conversation. “What is your interest in our contract with the resort, Deputy Tate?”

  Ted pulled his chastened gaze from Sister Marianna. “It’s part of our investigation into the murder of the resort’s owner. We want details on the congregation’s connection to her.”

  Warning sirens sounded in Sister Lou’s inner ear. How much of the deputies’ interest is based on the congregation’s contract with Autumn and how much is payback for my investigating Mo’s murder independently from them?

  “Deputies, with respect, I explained all of this to you Monday. Are you reluctant to believe me because of our past misunderstanding?”

  Fran’s green gaze was cool. “With respect, Sister, it wasn’t a ‘misunderstanding.’ And I resent the implication that we’d let our personal differences affect our professionalism.”

  Ted jerked his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Sister Lou hadn’t misread the deputies. Their resentment emanated from them. “Are you questioning all of the resort’s clients—or just those who are members of our congregation?”

  “Only the ones who’ve argued with Autumn Tassler.” Fran leaned forward to claim Sister Marianna’s attention. The other woman was seated on Ted’s other side. “What was the argument about, Sister?”

  Sister Marianna crossed her arms over her chest. “Which one?”

  Sister Lou flinched. Oh, Marianna, why would you respond that way? Couldn’t she see how serious this situation was? Sister Lou wanted to leap from her chair and shake Sister Marianna. Instead, she laid her hands flat on her lap and drew comfort from the scent of the cinnamon-and-peppermint potpourri that filled Sister Barbara’s office.

  Ted eyed Sister Marianna with surprise. “Why don’t you walk us through all of them?”

  “There were only two.” Sister Marianna sniffed with disdain. “Both were about the same thing. I’m the client. She’s the vendor. Or she was. I know what I want but she kept trying to push me in a different direction.”

  Fran tilted her head. “Did the fact that you weren’t getting what you wanted from Ms. Tassler make you angry?”

  Concerned with the direction of the questioning, Sister Lou jumped in. “Marianna wouldn’t kill Autumn because Autumn recommended mac and cheese when Marianna wanted asparagus and carrots. She wouldn’t kill someone over food. To suggest otherwise is absurd.”

  “I don’t know.” Fran considered Sister Marianna. “Ms. Tassler’s employees said Sister Marianna sounded very angry.”

  “It was a simple disagreement, nothing more, nothing less,” Sister Lou insisted.

  “How do you know?” Ted challenged her.

  Sister Lou gave Ted a cool smile. “You and I are having a spirited disagreement right now, Deputy Tate. If my lifeless body were found tomorrow morning, would anyone accuse you of killing me?”

  “Louise!” Sister Marianna sounded shocked.

  Fran sat forward and again addressed Sister Marianna. “So how did you resolve the spirited disagreement, Sister?”

  Sister Marianna waved a dismissive hand. “We found a compromise.”

  “Of course.” Ted’s lips curved in a mocking smile. “How else would a nun settle an argument?”

  “A sister.” Sister Marianna sighed with impatience. “And it wasn’t my idea.”

  Ted barked a laugh. “So it was Sister Lou to the rescue. Again.”

  Fran switched her attention to Sister Lou. “Where were you between six and seven Monday morning, Sister?”

  Sister Lou winced at the cold chill of déjà vu. The congregation was under suspicion in a murder investigation. Again. “Is that the time that Autumn was killed?”

  The deputies exchanged looks before Fran responded. “Yes, it is.”

  The killer was an early riser just like Autumn—and Sister Lou, Sister Carmen, and Sister Marianna. Unfortunately, the time didn’t rule out Sister Marianna as a suspect the way Sister Lou had hoped it would. “I was jogging around the college’s campus.”

  Surprise crossed Ted’s features before he masked his reaction. “Can anyone vouch for you?”

  Sister Lou swallowed a frustrated sigh. “Sister Carmen Vega. I was jogging with her.”

  “What about you, Sister?” Ted’s pen was poised for Sister Marianna’s reply.

  Sister Marianna sent a guarded look to Sister Lou before answering. “I’m afraid I overslept that morning.”

  Sister Lou struggled to conceal her surprise. She would lay odds that Sister Marianna had never overslept a day in her life. To the other sister, such slovenly behavior would probably be categorized as a cardinal sin.

  Why are you lying, Marianna?

  Ted stood. “That’s it for now. We’ll be back if we have any other questions.”

  “I have a question for you, Deputy Tate.” Sister Lou stopped the deputies with her words. “It’s my understanding from the resort’s employees that Autumn had disagreements and even arguments with several other people as recently as last week. Are those people also suspects?”

  It was apparent the deputies had no idea what she was talking about, but neither did they want to admit to it.
Why hadn’t Kelsey or Rita told the deputies about Montgomery Crane’s interest in the resort or January Potts’s conviction that Autumn was having an affair with her husband?

  Ted exchanged a startled look with Fran. “We don’t discuss ongoing investigations.”

  That makes perfect sense since it’s hard to discuss something you have no knowledge of. Sister Lou hid her irritation.

  Always the role model for grace and hospitality, Sister Barbara rose. Sister Lou and Sister Marianna stood with her.

  Sister Barbara offered each deputy her hand. “We’re happy to provide whatever information we can. For now, do you see any reason that we can’t continue our plans for our retreat?”

  Fran shook her head. “No, but we’ll let you know if anything changes.”

  “Thank you.” Sister Barbara inclined her head.

  The deputies left, but Sister Lou’s sense of dread remained.

  “Lou.” Sister Barbara turned to her. “We’re going to need your help.”

  By conducting another homicide investigation, Sister Lou could further damage the congregation’s relationship with the sheriff’s office. However, not getting involved in the case also could hurt the congregation.

  Sister Lou said a silent prayer. I’m open to other options.

  Chapter 13

  Paul and Peg Prentiss must be early risers. When Chris arrived at their ranch-style home, they encouraged him to sit on their plump tan cloth armchair in the foyer and served him a hot cinnamon roll and an even hotter mug of cocoa. Both were made from scratch and it was barely nine o’clock Wednesday morning.

  The older couple were the College of St. Hermione of Ephesus’s most long-term and committed donors. They also bore a strong resemblance to Chris’s mental image of Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus: silver hair, rosy cheeks, and round, cherubic faces.

  “We were so pleased when the college promoted you to vice president for advancement, Chris. Weren’t we, Paul?” Peg bestowed a sweet smile on her husband. She pressed her left side against Paul as they practically cuddled on the tan love seat.