Authors: P. R. Garlick
Third Half
–
P.R. Garlick
"Well, you see, I have a spare key to my sister's apartment. In
case she ever lost her key. We could go up there and I could have a
cool drink of water, and sit down for a little while."
She saw a quick glance pass between the men, then a quick
grin, as if pleased at the opportunity she was providing them.
"Of course, while we are up there you could look around for
any evidence that might point to where Liane is." Again she sighed.
"That is if you can get past the Security Guard."
"Leave him to us," Agent Steel said with authority as his
companion placed a steadying arm across her shoulders and guided
her toward the doors. She took out her key in ready.
Upstairs she waited in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water,
while the men searched her living room. When they headed into the
bedroom she hurried to her desk and removed her blue plastic card.
At least I won't be out of cash.
When they returned she was again seated at the tiny chrome
and glass table. "Did you find anything that may help you locate my
sister?"
"No, Sister," a grim-faced Steel replied. "But we'll keep
trying."
"Do you think you gentlemen could give me a ride back to the
convent? I'm still feeling rather queasy and think it may be wiser if I
confine myself to bed for a while."
"Certainly, Sister," Knight said. "And we'll be back in touch
with you as soon as we know anything."
"Thank you so much. Both of you. I'll pray for you as I will
pray for my sister and brother." She watched as the first man stepped
forward to help her up from her chair.
The men guided her back outside and to their car, opening the
door to their brown sedan for her. "I do appreciate this."
She was careful to remain silent during their drive to the
convent, hoping to convince the two men of her vow to confine
herself to bed rest. If they believed her, they'd be less likely to
continue watching her, and she could spend the next day moving
freely.
I
"At least that's taken care of," Liane said with a sigh of relief,
watching as the taillights of the brown sedan faded into the darkness.
"Now all I have to do is fool Mother Superior." She raised her eyes toward the starry sky. "Lord, this may seem like a very strange
request, but
. . . "
"Sister Mary Catherine." Liane turned, hearing the high
pitched call as the very woman she had been speaking about
approached.
"I thought it was you I saw getting out of that car. I was so
worried," the Mother Superior said. Even in the dim lamplight Liane
could see the lines of anxiety on the older woman's face.
"I'm sorry if I've caused any problems, Mother," she began,
head bowed. "But the last two days have been so terrible. . ." Without
another word she burst into tears and ran straight for the comfort of
the Mother Superior's open arms. It wasn't until they finally turned
toward the entrance that Liane realized she was no longer acting.
"There, there. It's understandable, my dear. I only wish you
had contacted me. Your sister called me early last evening and told
me you were under the weather," the Mother Superior said. "But
when I heard no more I assumed you were feeling better and would be
home today."
"I was under the impression my sister may have called again
later and told you I was worse. But everything seemed to happen all
at once. I suppose I should have handled myself better."
"Mary Catherine, you are only human," the Mother Superior
chided softly with a gentle smile. "How often have I told you that?
We are all still susceptible to human emotions. These are all tests of
our faith and what matters is how we handle these tests."
Liane squared her shoulders. "And I am going to handle this.
God's strength will guide me."
"Yes, but first you will rest," Mother Superior ordered. "Go to
your room and prepare for bed. I'll have Sister Ruth bring you a cup
of camomile tea."
"Bless you, Mother. You are very kind," Liane whispered,
then noted how the woman's fawn-brown eyes narrowed, intently
scrutinizing her. Nervously she turned to go, hoping she hadn't done
anything to arouse the woman's suspicion.
"Sister Mary Catherine," the Mother Superior said quickly,
before she could make her escape. "I suppose this means we shall
have to cancel your plans to go to the mission school."
"Ah . . .I don't know," Liane hesitated. "You see, I feel very
strongly that the mission in South America is where the Lord wants
me to be. Although I am concerned about the situation here, I don't
believe I can be much help by staying. There is some type of
communication, even in the most remote areas of South America. I
am sure someone will contact me when there is good news."
"Yes, I'm certain they will. And I want to tell you, Mary
Catherine, your positive attitude is admirable. That will keep you
strong and help make things right for you." The older woman smiled.
"Now, I hope you have a restful night."
I
Liane anxiously waited until after Sister Ruth had gone before
opening Jack's letter. She had only a momentary twinge of guilt that
she had not told the two agents that she had received it. To do that
she would have had to admit who she really was. At this point she
doubted that was the right thing to do.
She felt much more guilty about lying to the Mother Superior.
Closing her eyes she said a silent prayer for forgiveness, adding a
small request that the letter clutched in her hand would prove her
brother was safe and they could stop worrying
–
at least about him.
Finally ripping open the envelope she scanned the page.
Again, as in Mary Catherine's cryptic letter, Jack wrote they
were not to worry. He said that hopefully they would be hearing from
him within the next few weeks, explaining some of what was going
on. He asked that they not try to solve the mystery because they
could make matters worse.
Please believe me when I say there is
nothing either you or M.C. can do, other than what I have already
asked.
"Too late for that," she whispered, holding the letter to her
breast. "Why didn't I give him my new address sooner?" She groaned.
"I might not be in this predicament." She read on, clutching the key
that had been enclosed in the letter.
In the event that anything should happen to me, go to the FBI
office. Do not talk to anyone except Agent Morello of the Special
Task Force. Tell him all about the spy games we played as children.
Only you know how I would have hidden from the villains.
She destroyed the letter, as he had asked, before laying on the
bed trying to remember those childhood games he mentioned in his
letter.
Slowly her heavy eyelids closed until she was nearly asleep.
She was a child again, playing with her brother. Mary Catherine
rarely joined in their games of espionage and intrigue, with each
taking turns being an international spy. It was always Liane who had
been the Tomboy, enjoying the excitement and suspense.
They would race about the huge farmyard, chasing one another
with make believe guns. Then one would take a turn hiding and the other would try to find him. Each had a favorite place they liked to
hide. For Jack, it was often in the upstairs of the barn, or in the attic
of the house. He'd often told her his secret plan for a hiding place no
one would ever find.
Suddenly her eyes were wide open, as she remembered where
that hiding place would be. He said he would build a secret room
between two other rooms on the upstairs floor. It would be long and
narrow so no one would notice it was there. And the only entrance
would be through the ceiling of the room below.
"His farm," she whispered, knowing that had to be what he
meant. She rose from the bed, preparing to dress, then stopped. If she
left again so soon, she would be certain to arouse suspicion. No, it
would be better to wait until she could get away without being missed.
Tomorrow would be silent Sunday. She knew from her years
of being raised by nuns that they would all retire early the following
evening. That was when she would slip away and go to her brother's
farm.
Right now, it was better that she got some much needed sleep.
Tomorrow she would have to approach the problem of getting to
Connecticut without her car. Even dressed as Mary Catherine, she
knew it would be impossible to retrieve the vehicle undetected. That
is if it was even in the parking garage. She hadn't had a chance to
look for it earlier, but when she'd looked for her keys and cell phone
on the table by her door, both had been gone, obviously confiscated
during the police search of her apartment.
I
"M.C., this is Liane," she said when she heard her sister on the
other end of the line. "Are you alone?"
"Yes, where are you?" Mary Catherine said, unable to disguise
the distress in her voice. "I've been so worried. The reports on the
news haven't been very good. Do you know they're making it sound
more and more like you killed that man?"
"I know, I heard the radio."
"What are you going to do?"
"Buy some more time, I hope. Will you bear with me a little
longer? I have to go back to Jack's tonight and look for something."
"Tonight! How will you get there?"
"That's a long story," she looked at the old beat up, tri-colored
Chevy parked beside the telephone booth, noticing how impatiently the driver was staring at her. "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now
I have to go. Okay?"
"Liane, please be careful. This whole thing is serious. It's not
a game!"
"I'm well aware of that. I just hope Jack is."
"What?"
"Never mind, I'll explain later. Just try not to worry, rest and
get well. Bye."
With that she hung up the phone and headed toward the car.
The young man behind the wheel rolled his dark eyes. "Hey
Sister, if you want to make Connecticut and still get back before too
late we better hurry."