Authors: P. R. Garlick
"Oh my God!" Mary Catherine sagged back against her pillow,
rubbing her hand over her temples. "Things are getting worse instead
of better."
"Are you feeling worse?" Liane asked stepping closer to her
sister, immediately worried. "Shall I call for a nurse?"
"Not that. Oh . . .It's all my fault. I'm the one who started
everything, so I guess I'm the one who may as well tell you."
"Tell me what, M.C.?" Liane looked even more puzzled.
"That you're wanted by the Los Angeles' police."
"I am?"
Mary Catherine nodded. "For questioning about the murder of
Ralph Devereaux."
"
Murder
!" Liane gasped, "You mean he's dead! I just talked to
him."
"I heard it on the six o'clock news. They found his body this
morning. They said they're looking for a mysterious woman who had
been in his office," Mary Catherine sighed. "The report said she had
an appointment under the name Ann Page."
The name no longer struck Liane as humorous. She was
relieved she hadn't used her real name.
Her relief was short-lived as Mary Catherine informed her of
the rest of the news report.
"Before they went off the air they named you as that woman.
Apparently they checked it out with Martin and found out who you
really are."
"Oh no!" She frowned. "Martin's name was on the
appointment calendar. I showed up and surprised this Devereaux guy.
We ended in an argument over the whole thing. Are you sure he
didn't die of natural causes?"
"You can listen to the news yourself. He was shot," Mary
Catherine explained. "I hope you don't own a gun."
"You sound like you think . . .M.C., you don't." Liane was
stunned at the possibility of her sister suspecting her of the crime.
"No. I know better than that. At least no one has contacted
me yet. But if they do come, I know you were there to see Mr.
Devereaux."
Liane tried to think what she should do next. "I'd say the police
will more than likely go to my apartment first, if they haven't already.
I need some time to work this out. It may somehow be tied in with
Jack's disappearance. This Devereaux guy did sound pretty strange
when he spoke to me. Sort of suspicious.
"He kept warning me to stay out of things. I'm beginning to
think he does know Jack. I mean, he did know him," she corrected.
"He may have also known all along where Jack really is."
"You have no choice but to go to the police and explain
everything." Mary Catherine said, as if it was the obvious next move.
"I'm not so sure I should do that." Liane hesitated. "This
whole thing has been crazy from the start. I may be some sort of
scape goat. M.C., I think it's best that I don't go to them."
"Liane, you'll get into worse trouble if you don't."
"How can I get in worse trouble than being framed for
murder?"
"I wish there was something I could do to help you."
"Maybe there is." Liane stepped closer to her sister, a strange
light entering her green eyes. "It's only an idea, but it just might
work." She looked intently at Mary Catherine, almost pleading. "I
know Martin wouldn't have told them any more than he had to. But
he may eventually have to. They'll come here and talk to you sooner
or later."
"Oh Liane, I think you should go to the police," Mary
Catherine said, watching Liane's frown deepen, and knew it would be senseless to try and change her mind once it was made up. "But if
you're not going to do that, you better leave before they come here."
"I was thinking . . .If you were to go to them, they wouldn't
bother coming here, would they?"
"I don't understand. Do you want me to go see them?"
"No, you're not well enough yet . . . But I am."
"Liane! You're not planning to do what I think you're planning
to do!" Mary Catherine took a deep breath and shook her head, her
strawberry blond shoulder length hair sweeping across her shoulders
as she did. "You can't!"
"I have to. I have to buy some time. This is the best way I can
think of for me to hide and still move about freely. This way maybe I
can find out what is going on. Besides, how else will I go to my
apartment and check on that letter from Jack?"
"But my habit is sacred . . .I can't let you," Mary Catherine
pleaded weakly. "I know I started all this. I'm as worried about Jack
as you . . ." She put her fingers against her temples and rubbed. "I'm
worried about you too. But what you want to do is wrong."
"M.C., it may be the only way." Liane frowned, observing he
sister's distress. She went to the bed and took her hand. "Listen . . .
We were taught God is forgiving. I'm sure he will forgive us for this.
I don't see any other way."
The look of distress changed to resolution as Mary Catherine
quickly whispered a prayer before blessing herself.
"Okay, Liane. I see it's the only way." The nun sank back
against her pillows, drained, as much from making the decision as
from her illness. "But what if they find out I'm still in here?"
"They won't. Why would they look for you once they know
where you are?"
"How long do you think all this will take? I may be
discharged soon. Oh Goodness, everything is going wrong! First
Jack disappears, then the money, then I get sick, now you're wanted
for murder." Mary Catherine wrung her hands, biting her lip. "I have
a feeling I may not be going to make my trip to South America"
"Maybe it won't have to be delayed for too long," Liane tried
to reassure her, knowing how much the trip meant to her sister.
"If you're pretending to be me, and you're well, my trip
wouldn't have to be delayed at all. That could complicate things even
more. I was going to call the Mother Superior today and explain what
happened."
"I'll tell you what. You give me twenty-four hours. I'll be you
until tomorrow night. Then I'll call you and let you know what I've found out. If I'm no closer to an answer, I'll square everything for you
with the Mother Superior."
"And you'll square everything with the police?"
"Okay, and the police." Liane promised as she opened the
closet, taking out the black and white habit. "I hope I can still pretend
I'm you as well as when we were kids."
Mary Catherine sighed and shook her head. "It won't be as
easy now that we've grown up, Liane. We're so different now. For
one thing, your hair is a little longer than mine."
"No one will see it under this," Liane said as she looked more
closely at her sister's habit. She made a face. "This looks awfully hot.
I've often thought that your Order should have switched to something
a bit more up-to-date. I've seen some Sisters wearing habits that look
a lot more comfortable."
"Maybe they are, but it's not about comfort. This is what I
have, and if you're going to be me you'll have to wear it. Besides . . . I
still have my doubts about trying to pull this off." Mary Catherine
twisted the corner of her sheet between her nervous fingers. "You
know your hair has some lighter streaks than mine."
"Sun-bleached."
"Come to think of it, you have more suntan on your face. Oh
Liane," Mary Catherine sighed, "Mother Superior will definitely
notice the difference. She's very observant."
"I'll just have to stay out of her way. And if I do cross her
path, I'll have the opportunity to see just how good an actress I really
am."
"Are you sure you can do this?"
"If I chicken out now, we'll never know." Liane crossed the
room to the adjoining bathroom.
Moments later she returned to stand beside her sister's bed.
"What do you think?" Liane asked as she did a pirouette. "Do you
think I make a pretty good Sister Mary Catherine?"
"That will depend on that acting you mentioned. How much
do you remember about the nuns at the orphanage?"
"They were quiet and seemed to see almost everything we did.
Like they had eyes everywhere."
"Observant. That's what Mother Superior calls it. And like I
said, she is good at it." Mary Catherine frowned, still uncertain. "You
don't even talk like me."
"Okay, I can forget my voice lessons. I'll speak softly, and in a
serene voice." She purposely lowered her voice in an attempt to show
how she would speak."
"That's not exactly me either. Somewhere in the middle. Oh .
. .never mind." Mary Catherine shook her head. "You'll only have to
get through the rest of tonight. Tomorrow is silent Sunday."
"I remember those. We used to try our best to get the sisters to
speak."
Mary Catherine laughed. "And some children at the
orphanage still do. So be forewarned."
"The children . . .I almost forgot about them. I suppose I'll
have to practice patience."
"They'll be harder to fool. Fortunately, you won't have as
much to do with them tomorrow," Mary Catherine said as she
watched her sister pick up the telephone. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm calling the police to ask to speak to someone in charge of
the investigation. I'll tell them I'm you, and that I've been hospitalized
. . .. And that after hearing the news about my sister, I talked my
doctor into discharging me early. I will sound very concerned and . .
."
Liane turned her attention back to the phone as someone
answered. "Hello . . .I'm calling about the murder investigation of the
man in Los Angeles. I heard they are looking for my sister, Liane
Spencer. This is so upsetting. I have to talk to someone and
straighten things out! My sister would never do anything like that.
I'm sure she doesn't even know anything about it."
Liane winked at Mary Catherine, "So far so good. They're
getting the man in charge." Liane went on with her act when the man
in charge, Sergeant Adams, came to the phone.
"Well, what did they say?" Mary Catherine asked when Liane
hung up.
"I better go outside right away. They wormed it out of Martin
that you're here. But only after going to my apartment, then to the
convent, looking for me. The Mother Superior told them she talked to
me last night when I told her you were spending the night with me
because you weren't feeling well. They already knew I wasn't at my
apartment, so they went straight back to Martin. They certainly did
their homework. And fast."