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  OLIVIA MATTHEWS

  Mayhem & Mass

  Alibis & Angels

  (coming March 2019)

  PERIL & PRAYER

  A Sister Lou Mystery

  OLIVIA MATTHEWS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 Patricia Sargeant-Matthews

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  KENSINGTON BOOKS and the K logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-0940-0

  First electronic edition: July 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-0941-7

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-0941-1

  TO MY DREAM TEAM:

  • MY SISTER, BERNADETTE, FOR GIVING ME THE DREAM.

  • MY HUSBAND, MICHAEL, FOR SUPPORTING THE DREAM.

  • MY BROTHER RICHARD, FOR BELIEVING THE DREAM.

  • MY BROTHER GIDEON, FOR ENCOURAGING THE DREAM.

  ♥ AND TO MOM AND DAD, ALWAYS, WITH LOVE. ♥

  THIS SERIES IS ALSO DEDICATED WITH RESPECT AND AFFECTION TO THE CONGREGATION OF DOMINICAN SISTERS OF PEACE FOR INSPIRING ME WITH THEIR GREAT COURAGE, STRENGTH, DETERMINATION, AND JOY.

  Chapter 1

  “Can we all calm down?” The second the words left her lips, Sister Louise “Lou” LaSalle knew she’d poured accelerant on a campfire.

  “I. Am. Calm.” Sister Marianna Tuller’s gray gaze could freeze a volcanic eruption. She sat beside Sister Lou in the Briar Coast Cabin Resort owner’s office.

  “So am I, Sister.” Despite Autumn Tassler’s assurances, the resort owner’s periwinkle blue eyes snapped with irritation.

  It is going to be a long Thursday morning.

  Sister Lou counseled herself to relax against the scarlet-cushioned guest chair in front of Autumn’s large walnut desk. She and Sister Marianna were here to finalize details of their congregation’s annual Advent retreat. The Advent season begins every year on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. During that four-week period, the faithful prepare for the coming anniversary of Jesus Christ’s birth. Traditionally, the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Hermione of Ephesus’s annual weeklong retreat started on the first Advent Sunday. That was a little more than four weeks away. The clock was ticking, but they wouldn’t make progress on the event planning today, not with Sister Marianna’s and Autumn’s hostility coming to a boil.

  Autumn’s spacious walnut wood office created a rustic cabin feel that should have been soothing. It even smelled of cedarwood and pine. The vivid abstract throw rug that lay across the hardwood floor kept the room from seeming stern. The walnut wood–framed paintings mounted to the walls celebrated stunning scenes from nature: soaring mountains, mighty trees, rushing rivers, majestic animals.

  “Let’s review our roles.” Sister Marianna was at her pedantic best. “I’m in charge of my congregation’s retreat. You’re the vendor working for us to provide the location and meals. To be clear: the meals that we choose.”

  There was a pause as though Autumn was weighing the value of the congregation’s contract against Sister Marianna’s officiousness.

  Lord, please, let the congregation’s contract win. Amen.

  “Sister, you and I both want your retreat to be a success.” Autumn sat behind tidy stacks of paper. Her mail was neatly collected in her in-box. “I believe the entrées I’m suggesting would be more enjoyable than a plate of chopped vegetables and bottles of water.”

  I agree wholeheartedly. Sister Marianna’s health-conscious selections were punitive compared to Autumn’s recommendations.

  “This retreat isn’t a vacation.” Sister Marianna spoke with a precision in keeping with her tidy brick red skirt suit. “It’s a time of reflection and preparation for our minds, spirits, and bodies. Rich pastas and starchy, fatty foods aren’t conducive to that.”

  Everything in moderation, Marianna.

  How could she convince the other woman to meet them halfway?

  Sister Marianna fussed with her teal silk scarf, causing the garment to hang loosely around her neck. Sister Katharine “Kathy” Wen had organized a group of sisters to handcraft and sell the one-of-a-kind silk scarves. All of the proceeds benefited an orphanage on the Caribbean island nation of Haiti. They were very popular with the congregation’s sisters, associates, and donors, who’d purchased several scarves each. Unfortunately, Sister Marianna couldn’t seem to keep one on for an entire day.

  Autumn straightened on her chair as though Sister Marianna’s slurs against her menu suggestions mortally offended her. Her sudden flush almost matched her ruby red sweater. “The meals I’m proposing aren’t rich, starchy, or fatty. Our chef uses fresh and healthy ingredients.”

  “I read your menu proposals, Ms. Tassler.” Sister Marianna’s gray gaze remained cool in her thin face. “You can’t mean to compare the meals I selected to yours.”

  Autumn’s expression tightened. “I’m not comparing your beets and broiled fish to the vegetable lasagna and tossed green salad I offered as an alternative.”

  “I don’t need advice on planning the congregation’s retreat.” Sister Marianna smoothed her cap of snow-white hair and readjusted her scarf. “This isn’t my first event.”

  “It’s not mine, either.” Autumn paused, running her long, pale fingers through her chestnut hair. “I’m offering you at no extra charge my event planning expertise to help ensure that everyone has a great time.”

  For all of Autumn’s patient reasoning, she was coming into contact with the immovable force that was Sister Marianna.

  This was the congregation’s first experience with the Briar Coast Cabin Resort. Sister Marianna had opened the retreat to competitive bids for room, board, and meeting spaces with the goal of reducing the event’s budget. She had reported to the congregation’s leadership team, of which she and Sister Lou were members, that the resort was much more affordable than the hotel Sister Lou had used in the past.

  But was this conflict worth the cost savings?

  Sister Lou jumped back in
to the fray. “There’s a simple solution to this impasse.”

  “I’m listening.” Autumn looked hopeful.

  “What is it?” Sister Marianna stripped the silk scarf from her neck with impatience. It floated onto her lap.

  “We should ask the congregation to vote on the menu.” Sister Lou shifted uncomfortably on the seat. There wasn’t much padding. At her age, she really appreciated padding. “We could send an online survey to get their ideas on several aspects of the retreat, including the meals.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Autumn spoke on a sigh of relief.

  “A survey is a perfectly unnecessary project and I don’t have time to coordinate it.” Sister Marianna’s curt dismissal overlapped the resort owner’s response.

  “As your able assistant, I’d be happy to organize it for you.” Sister Lou tried a persuasive smile.

  “All right,” Sister Marianna acquiesced with dampening reluctance.

  She stood, indicating she was done with this meeting, and yanked the strap of her black bag farther up her narrow shoulder. Her movements were jerky. Her jaw was set. It would be a long drive back to the congregational offices.

  Sister Lou rescued a pile of silk from the floor as she rose. “Marianna, you’re forgetting your scarf.” It isn’t the first time.

  “Thank you.” Sister Marianna had the same startled look she wore every time someone retrieved her scarf for her.

  “When do you think you’ll have the results?” Autumn’s question was a subtle reminder that they were falling behind schedule.

  She escorted Sister Lou and Sister Marianna down a wide hallway to the lobby. Their surroundings continued the rustic cabin theme from Autumn’s office.

  Sister Lou waited a beat for Sister Marianna to respond. When the other woman ignored them, she answered the question herself. “We’ll make it a priority. I’m estimating one week.”

  “Thank you.” Autumn seemed relieved.

  Beneath a strained veneer of geniality, Sister Lou sensed the thinning thread of patience between Sister Marianna and Autumn. It was worrying. Their relationship had been fraying since its start. Will they still be speaking to each other by the Advent retreat?

  A couple conversing in the lobby broke off conversation when they spotted Autumn. The woman appeared to be in her early forties, like the resort owner. The man was perhaps a decade older. The temperature in the room dropped markedly when Autumn noticed them.

  She gave the pair a brittle smile. “Hello, Rita. I’m surprised to see you before noon. Mr. Crane, you’re here so often perhaps you should rent a room.”

  “Montgomery just wants a few minutes of our time, Autumn.” The pretty blonde’s large brown eyes were defiant. “We’ll wait in your office.”

  Autumn stepped to block their way. “No, you won’t.” She locked eyes with the tall, attractive older gentleman who stood beside Rita. “I don’t have time for the eighty-ninth rendition of your sales pitch. I wasn’t persuaded the first eighty-eight times. I won’t be persuaded today.”

  Sister Lou had had enough drama for the morning, as the students of the College of St. Hermione of Ephesus would say. “Autumn, we’ll get back together once we’ve tallied the retreat survey responses.”

  “Since Autumn won’t introduce us, I’ll do the honors myself.” Rita offered her hand first to Sister Lou, then to Sister Marianna. Her figure-hugging sage green jersey dress under her honey brown lightweight coat complemented her shoulder-length curls and peaches-and-cream complexion. Her brown eyes twinkled in her triangular face. “I’m Rita Morris. I co-own the resort. And this is our business associate Montgomery Crane of Crane Enterprises.”

  “I’m Sister Lou LaSalle.” Sister Lou released Rita’s soft, narrow palm to accept Montgomery’s large, callused hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Montgomery’s tall, slender form and regal bearing complemented his dark suit. He had a smooth cocoa complexion.

  “Sister Marianna Tuller.” The introduction was almost insulting in its brevity. “We have to go.”

  Sister Lou hoped her parting smile took the edge off Sister Marianna’s rudeness. Without a doubt, the journey ahead would be taxing.

  * * *

  Autumn watched the nuns leave. No, not nuns, sisters. Sister Marianna had made that very clear when she’d corrected Autumn during their initial project meeting. Nuns were cloistered. Sisters were in the community.

  “Did I sense tension between you and your clients?” Rita sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Creative differences. We’ll sort them out.” Autumn crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m sure you will. You always find a way to keep our customers happy.” Rita’s smile was faked. The other woman didn’t think Autumn could tell, but she could.

  And what did she mean by our customers? Autumn planned the marketing campaigns and drew up the contracts. What was Rita’s contribution?

  What possessed me to take on Rita Morris as a business partner?

  Autumn had asked herself that question several times a year for the past three years. She still didn’t have an answer.

  “Give it a rest, Rita.” She considered her partner and the business rival who wanted to take her company from her.

  Over my dead body.

  Autumn could use some of Sister Lou’s diplomacy right now. Otherwise, there was a good chance she’d say something she’d regret, if not in this life, then in the afterlife.

  Montgomery Crane was a handsome, charming, and interesting man. Under different circumstances, Autumn would want to be his friend. But as things stood between them now, she didn’t want him here—and Rita knew that.

  “We’re not having this conversation again.” Autumn gave herself high marks for restraint as she spun on her black heels and strode back to her office.

  “Montgomery has increased his offer. Again.” Rita’s voice was far too loud and much too close.

  Hot temper seared Autumn. She whipped back toward Rita. “Keep your voice down.” Her gaze darted around the reception area. “If our employees hear you, you’ll start a panic. I’m trying to run a business. Do you think I want to deal with mass hysteria—alone—while you’re out doing God knows what?”

  “Fine, then, we’ll discuss it in your office.” Rita started around Autumn.

  Autumn once again moved to block the other woman. “There’s nothing to discuss. My answer is no, just as it’s been all of the other times you’ve asked me.”

  “Autumn.” Montgomery’s warm, deep voice was like a neck massage. “We’ve never discussed my offer. I suggest an amount. You decline it, and that’s the end. I’d like to have a conversation with you this time.”

  He sounded so reasonable. To decline his request would be unreasonable. Without a word, she led them to her office and took a seat behind her desk. She watched her unwanted guests settle onto the chairs in front of her.

  Autumn leaned into her desk and braced her folded arms on its smooth, cool surface. “I’m not selling my resort. I’ll never sell my resort, so, in fact, we have nothing to discuss. Any questions?”

  “Just one: Why not?” Montgomery relaxed onto one of the guest chairs as though he had all the time in the world. His slate gray suit, crisp white shirt, crimson power tie, and black Italian shoes probably cost as much as three nights at her resort.

  Autumn tried to imitate his casual confidence. It wasn’t easy. “First, tell me why you keep raising your offer. Have you discovered oil in my backyard?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Montgomery smiled. “Your resort has great potential. It’s in a prime location and offers high-demand features.”

  Autumn struggled to mask her pleasure at his words. “I know that my property’s valuable. What makes you think I’d sell it?”

  “For the money.” Rita was the source of all the tension in the room. “Montgomery’s offer is too good to refuse.”

  Autumn leveled a look at her far-from-silent partner. “You’ve said that about every
offer he’s made.”

  Urgency emanated from Rita like cheap perfume. “This time, I mean it.”

  She’d also “meant it” all the other times, too. “If you want out of the resort, I’ll buy your share.” Autumn was running low on patience. “It’s not like you’re doing much to keep the business going, anyway. I won’t even notice your absence.”

  Rita scowled. “That’s harsh, Autumn.”

  Autumn arched an eyebrow. “So is the fact that the only time you come into the office is to tell me when Montgomery has an offer for the resort.”

  “You only offered my share of the market value for this place.” Rita gestured toward Montgomery. “He’s offering us a lot more. That’s the money I want.”

  Autumn briefly squeezed her eyes shut. She was so tired of repeating herself. “Rita, our contract only requires that I offer you the fair market value for your share.”

  Montgomery’s smooth voice cut through their tense exchange. “Why are you opposed to selling your resort?”

  Autumn turned back to her business rival. “You purchase independent operations to add to your chain of hotels and resorts.”

  “That’s right.” Montgomery was using his reasonable voice again. He didn’t seem to understand Autumn’s concern.

  Autumn found comfort in the familiar scents of cedarwood and pine that filled her office. She shouldn’t have to have this conversation. Her “no” should be explanation enough.

  “Owning and operating this resort has been my goal ever since I was forced to accept the inevitability of my divorce.” Autumn spread her arms to encompass the resort as a whole. “I need to make this a success for myself. I don’t want to be someone’s employee. I don’t want to be part of a chain. I want my own vision.”

  The question in Montgomery’s dark brown eyes resolved itself into understanding. He pushed himself to his feet and extended his right hand. “Autumn, thank you for taking the time to explain your decision to me. Under the circumstances, I won’t bother you with my buyout offers any longer. Instead, I’ll wish you success and happiness with your vision.”