Authors: P. R. Garlick
"Yes, but Ronaldo, please remember Manuel said you should
drive carefully. This car has to last another couple of years."
"That will take a miracle," the boy said sarcastically, as he
looked around the vehicle in distaste. "But I'll drive careful. I always
do. It's just I don't usually got something to drive. And I do like to
drive."
"Then why don't you ask Manuel to get you a job driving taxi.
I'm sure he'd be glad to help."
"You don't ask Rosita's father anything. He tells you, and tells
you, and tells you. I don't like that."
"I think if you tried to talk to him he might listen. He seems to
care very much about what happens to his family."
"That's why he doesn't want Rosita and me to get married."
"How would you feel if you were him, Ronaldo?" She smiled
at the young man. "He works hard to take care of his family. Then
one day his daughter says her boyfriend is coming home for dinner,
but he doesn't leave."
"That's not exactly how it happened," Ronaldo defended. "I
came to visit alota times before I lost my job and couldn't afford a
place to stay. And in spite of what he thinks, I have looked for work.
That's why when you showed up tonight looking for him to drive you,
I offered. I want to show him I'm not the freeloader that he thinks. I
do the work, he gets the money."
"It is his car."
Ronaldo nodded. "You're right about that. But he's tired after
a long day of driving cab. I saved him another few hours driving. By
the way, you never did say why you didn't just call a cab. What you
said you'd pay is alota money
–
more than a cab would cost."
"I have my reasons."
"Manuel said I wasn't supposed to ask alota questions."
"No, but I'll tell you what. There's an extra twenty in this for
you if you do something else for me."
"Twenty? Not much. But if it's money of my own and not
charity, I'll do it."
"Ask Manuel to help you get a job driving taxi."
"That was a trick, Sister." The dark haired boy beside her
laughed with good nature. "But I can't back out on a promise to a nun.
I'll ask him tomorrow."
"Good." She smiled in relief, knowing she had kept her
promise to Manuel. She'd told the man that after hearing his story the
day before, she's felt compelled to help him. That after lighting a
candle as he had asked, she knew she had to see what she could do.
Being such a religious man, Manuel Rivas did not question her
words. He was only too happy to have her help. So when she said her
excuse to get the young boy alone would be the need for a ride to
Connecticut, he immediately offered the use of his car.
"The end justifies the means," she said with a smile.
"What's that?" Ronaldo turned to her.
"Ah . . .I think I better explain exactly what I want you to do
when we get to my brother's farm. It's important you have everything
straight."
CHAPTER THREE
As she approached Jack's home, Liane wasn't certain whether
the large, bright outside light was a blessing or not. It definitely
helped her pick her way along the long dirt and gravel
driveway in the
darkness. But she knew it also made her more visible.
She was thankful to be greeted by darkness from the manager's
side of the house. Still, she nearly tiptoed up the steps and onto the
front porch, stopping suddenly as a board creaked loudly. Her breath
caught in her throat as she waited a tentative moment before taking
another step.
Slowly releasing her breath, she took several more slow, easy
steps toward the door. Standing in the shadows under the porch roof,
she fumbled before finally getting the key into the lock. When it
turned, she edged the door open and stepped inside, feeling her way
through the darkness until she had drawn the shades on every window
so no one would see the light from outside.
As she reached for the light switch by the door her hand
paused on a slip of paper. Once light filled the room, she read the
note that had been carefully taped to the switch.
"This is great!" she said with a smile, relaxing for the first time
since stepping out of the car. Tom Lucas, her brother's manager, and
his wife, had decided to stay an extra night with their relatives and the
note was written to Jack in case he returned.
She was pleased with the turn of events that would now enable
her to search without fear of being heard by any residents next door.
She started for the stairs, knowing that the room she was
looking for would be on the upper floor of the house. Her only
access would be from the floor below.
Remembering the game she and Jack used to play, she counted
the number of steps it took to cross the rooms on the second floor
before going up the next flight of stairs to do the same.
"I knew it!" she cheered with a glowing smile. The bedroom
on the upper floor was smaller by nearly two feet. She had no doubt
that the bedroom next door was also two feet smaller than the room
below it. She doubted that anyone would ever have noticed unless
they were specifically looking for the discrepancy.
She hurried toward the stairs, anxious to search for the
entrance to the secret room. She knew that entrance would be hidden
somewhere in the ceiling. She stopped as she heard the sound of a car
driving in the gravel lane.
"Oh Ronaldo, I said not to come in the lane." She groaned as
she rushed toward the window to look outside.
She was even more distraught when she realized the sound had
not come from Ronaldo. Two men were getting out of a car in front
of the house. If she didn't hurry, she'd have to face them and their
possible questions. After everything that had taken place in the last
few days, even dressed as Mary Catherine, she doubted any
confrontation would be a pleasant one.
She quietly slipped down the stairs, not stopping as she heard
the wooden thud of the front door forced open. From the room she
could hear the men commenting about the lights being turned on. She
silently prayed they wouldn't come upstairs to see if anyone was
home.
She felt her heart beating frantically as she looked up to see if
any of the ceiling tiles along the center wall looked different from the
others. None did. She'd have to try them all!
Loud banging came from the rooms below, leaving her no
doubt of the need to hurry. She searched for something to stand on.
Whoever is downstairs, they're looking for something. And I don't
think I should be what they find!
Her eyes stopped suddenly on the sturdy oak dresser in the
corner of the room. A closer examination revealed the shape of a
footprint in the dust. She had no time to wonder whose it was. The
voices from downstairs were growing louder and she knew she had
very little time left before they'd come upstairs and find her.
Quickly she climbed onto the dresser, knowing that if they
came into the room now, all would be lost. She'd be caught!
–
and it
would take only a moment for them to figure out why she was
standing on top of a piece of furniture.
Checking the two tiles above the dresser, she found that
neither revealed an entrance to the upstairs room. It has to be here!
As carefully as her nervous fingers would function she replaced them
so no one would discover they had been moved and possibly
investigate to see why.
Jack was taller than she by at least four inches. He could
easily reach the next tile. Stretching as far as she could, Liane hoped
this one would unveil the secret entrance.
Pushing the tile up from its frame, she saw the opening in the
ceiling above. There was a heavy cord hanging just inside. She gave it a tug and a retractable rope ladder dropped down before her. Her
memory flashed back to similar one they used to climb as children to
get into their tree house.
You think of everything, Jack,
she thought as she struggled to
climb through the tiny opening. It wasn't as easy as it had been when
she was a child, especially when hampered wearing Mary Catherine's
attire. The rope seemed to twist and turn with every move, and
hurrying wasn't helping the matter.
She could hear the voices getting closer, and was certain she
heard their footsteps on the stairs.
Or is that my heart beating that
loudly?
Finally she managed to climb through the opening into the
narrow darkened room. Leaning back through the hole, she quickly
pulled up the rope ladder. She leaned back through the hole to get the
tile she had pushed out of the way.
Quickly she slipped it back into place, hearing the men's
voices below her now. She didn't move. She didn't dare. She was
even afraid to breathe. She just sat quietly, hoping they wouldn't
discover the secret room right above them.
Liane felt wet from perspiration. M.C.'s habit was just as hot
as she thought it would be. She hoped she wouldn't have to wear it
much longer. She fanned herself, allowing herself to finally take a
few shallow, silent breaths.
"The Boss expects us to find something here," a deep voice
grumbled from below. "If not the money, the rest. No one was
supposed to know about this place. The Boss was sure it would be
stashed here."
"What about the airport?" the other man asked.
"Too obvious. Besides, their last trip came back empty."
"This dresser is as good a place to start as any. We better
check it good like everything else. He could'a hidden a key, or
something, inside that'll give us a clue to where he stashed the stuff."
She waited, wishing she had done something to hide the
footprint that had revealed the hiding place to her. If the men saw it,
she'd be doomed!
"What's this?" one of the men bellowed.
Liane caught her breath again, listening intently.
"Looks like some kind of urn," the other man said, then
laughed. "Maybe he's got someone's ashes inside."
The two men both laughed, but Liane didn't think it was funny.
She had only briefly noticed the urn on top of the dresser. But she
recognized it as the one she had so carefully made for her brother three years ago when she had taken some ceramic classes. She had
given it to him as a housewarming present that year.