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Sister Lou cleared her throat. “I’m sure the deputies will bring the murderer to justice shortly. I left after they questioned me. But they were still gathering information from Autumn’s employees. Other deputies were going over her office and cabin.”

  “They interrogated you?” Sister Marianna’s reaction was sharp. “What did they ask?”

  “They were very basic questions.” Sister Lou tried to sound reassuring. “Why was I meeting with Autumn? When last had I seen her? Was I aware of any problems she was having?”

  “Why would they ask you about her problems?” Sister Marianna exhaled an irritated breath. “How could you know something like that? We’re her clients, not her confessors.”

  Sister Lou stared through the picture window that spanned the opposite wall as she considered Sister Marianna’s questions. How could she have insight into Autumn’s personal life? Yet she knew Autumn’s cousin had threatened to kill her. She also was aware of the tension between Autumn and Rita. What she couldn’t explain was why neither Kelsey nor Rita had offered those insights, or why she was so certain they were withholding other information.

  Sister Lou pulled her gaze from the view of deep green grass and ancient oaks outside Sister Barbara’s window. “Those are probably their standard questions.”

  “Then that explains why they have a hard time solving cases.” Sister Marianna’s tone was as dry as dust. “I remember how rude they were when they interrogated us about Dr. Jordan’s murder.”

  When Sister Marianna made up her mind, she couldn’t be swayed from her opinion, and in her opinion, the deputies were inept. Sister Lou wouldn’t waste time trying to convince Sister Marianna otherwise. She’d have better luck changing the course of an aircraft carrier.

  She turned to Sister Barbara. “I don’t mean to seem insensitive, but in light of this tragedy, we should consider whether we’ll need to postpone the retreat.”

  “Yes, you’re quite right.” Sister Marianna inclined her head. “I’ll contact Autumn’s partner in the morning.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll send an e-mail to the community asking for prayers for Autumn Tassler and her loved ones.” Sister Barbara made a note on the yellow writing tablet beside her phone. The top sheet was a running to-do list. She’d crossed off tasks she’d completed, but the list seemed never-ending.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Thank you, Barb.” Sister Lou stood, turning to Sister Marianna. “I’ll wait for you to let me know if we’re going to reschedule the retreat or move forward with it.”

  The meeting over, Sister Lou turned to leave the office.

  “Lou.” Sister Barbara’s voice stopped her. “Are you all right?”

  Sister Lou forced a smile. “I will be.” Once the memories of Maurice’s murder scene and now Autumn’s recede. Hopefully, that would be soon.

  * * *

  “I thought you said you were going to rest.” Chris strode into Sister Lou’s office Monday afternoon.

  Sister Lou looked up from the document she was reviewing. “No, you said I was going to rest. I said I had work to do.”

  Although I don’t seem to be getting much done.

  She’d spent the past almost ten minutes staring at the first page of the report she’d printed.

  Sister Lou checked her crimson wristwatch. It’s only noon? The entire ordeal at the Briar Coast Cabin Resort had taken less than two hours but had felt like an entire day.

  The window to her left framed a beautiful fall day. Early-afternoon sunlight stretched across her L-shaped oak wood desk. The smaller window behind her added to the natural light filling her office. Outside, the sky was a warm, rich blue. Fluffy, round, paper white clouds floated above the horizon. The scene added to the tragedy of Autumn’s murder. Sister Lou said another quick prayer for the deceased resort owner’s peaceful transition.

  “Aunt Lou, you’re not a machine.” Chris hooked his black jacket to the back of one of the guest chairs in front of Sister Lou’s desk, then settled onto its thick cushion. His cream cotton shirt was the perfect backdrop for his brown-and-cream-striped necktie. “You had a traumatic morning. You should give yourself some time to unwind and clear your mind before you jump back into work.”

  “Sweetie, I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t the first time I’ve found a dead body.” It didn’t get easier, though. The loss of life and especially the rage behind both murderous acts were chilling.

  “I know.” His voice and expression were grim. “I also know you’re still coming to terms with Maurice’s murder. That probably added to the trauma of finding Autumn Tassler’s body.”

  An image of Autumn’s lifeless body slouched on her executive chair flashed across Sister Lou’s mind. She flinched. “Yes, it did.” Sister Lou lowered the printouts she’d been holding, amazed at the creases her fingers had formed along the edges.

  “Why don’t you tell Sister Barbara that you’re going to take the afternoon off?”

  “I’d much rather work, Chris. I don’t want to spend the rest of the day wandering my rooms reliving the events of this morning—or the events surrounding Mo’s murder.”

  Chris rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I hate that you’re caught up in another murder.”

  “This isn’t like the last time. I’m saddened that someone killed Autumn. It was an evil deed and it shouldn’t happen to anyone. But I’m not personally connected to her as I was with Mo.”

  Chris looked skeptical but he let the matter drop. “Did you speak with Sister Marianna?”

  Sister Lou nodded. “And with Barb. They’re going to make the decision whether to postpone the retreat.”

  “All right.” Chris stood, collecting his jacket from the back of the chair. “I wanted to check on you. I hadn’t really expected you to be resting. Are you up to having lunch?”

  “No, thank you. I might grab something later.”

  “Don’t skip lunch,” Chris chastised as he shrugged into his jacket.

  “I wish you wouldn’t worry.”

  He came around her desk and bent to kiss her cheek. “I worry because I love you. Call if you need anything. I’m just across the parking lot.”

  Sister Lou smiled. His office was a little farther away than that. She stood to hug him. “I will. I promise. And thank you.” After one last tight squeeze, she stepped back.

  She watched her nephew leave her office. They were all that was left of their family. That was another reason these terrible tragedies resonated with them.

  Sister Lou settled back onto her chair. Still, this case was different from Maurice’s murder. For one thing, she wouldn’t have to deal with Deputy Fran Cole or Deputy Ted Tate. She took a moment to thank God for mercies great and small.

  Chapter 10

  “Are you sure you’re up to talking about it again, Sister Lou?” Shari sat on one of the chairs opposite Sister Lou’s desk Monday after lunch.

  She wanted to write a thorough article on the latest Briar Coast murder. Sister Lou was a valuable source because she was one of the three people who’d found the body and she knew the victim. But Shari wasn’t eager to bring back sad memories for her friend.

  “It’ll help to discuss it objectively.” Sister Lou seemed to steady herself. She straightened her shoulders under her warm blue blouse and rested her hands on the desk in front of her. Her Hermionean cross was pinned to the right side of her collar. “When I spoke with Chris earlier, he was wonderful as always, but I couldn’t speak freely because he worries so much about me.”

  Shari crossed her right leg over her left, smoothing her rose-colored slacks over her right thigh. Just the mention of Chris could distract her. She forced herself to concentrate. “I can understand how he must feel. You’re not my aunt, but I worry about you, too.”

  Sister Lou’s onyx eyes, so like her nephew’s, flared in surprise. “Thank you, Shari. I care about you, too. Very much.”

  “Thank you.” Shari looked down at the reporter’s notebook on her lap. Another warm blush rose into her chee
ks. That happened a lot around Sister Lou. She still wasn’t comfortable discussing her feelings. But her friendship with Sister Lou and Chris had brought her a long way toward making it seem more natural. “Can you walk me through this morning’s events in as much detail as you’re comfortable including?”

  Sister Lou started at the beginning, with her scheduled morning meeting with Autumn to review the retreat presentation schedule.

  “Marianna also asked me to collect the scarf she’d forgotten the last time we’d met with Autumn.” Sister Lou broke off to express her frustration. “Marianna has a tendency to take off her scarves during meetings, then leave them behind. It’s like a nervous habit, not that she’d admit to having any.”

  “Why are the two of you working together on the retreat?” Shari looked up from her notes. She adjusted the cream blazer she’d coupled with her rose slacks. “The two of you are like the Odd Couple. You’re so calm and she’s so uptight.”

  Sister Lou’s full lips twitched as she fought back an inappropriate grin. “I think that was Barb’s point. She told me she hoped my diplomacy would rub off on Marianna. It’s not working.”

  Shari recalled that Sister Barbara Yates was the congregation’s prioress. “I guess even in the congregation, when your boss says you have to work with someone, you’re kind of stuck.”

  Sister Lou put on her best poker face. “That sounds about right.”

  “You’ve mentioned this retreat before.” Shari lowered her notebook to her lap. “I still don’t understand what it’s about.”

  “The Advent season is the four weeks leading up to Christmas. During this time, we prepare our hearts and minds to celebrate the anniversary of Jesus Christ’s birth.”

  One of Shari’s foster parents had dragged her to Mass every Sunday. She’d been about eleven years old. The messages hadn’t stuck because she hadn’t wanted to be there and she hadn’t cared. Now she did. “How does a retreat help you prepare for Christmas?”

  “We focus on a discussion theme for the season. This year’s theme is service. ‘Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers and sisters, so you do unto me.’”

  She still wasn’t making the connection. “How does that fit in with the shopping and the gifts?”

  Sister Lou’s lips twitched again. “Christmas isn’t about gifts. It’s about remembering the lessons that Jesus taught us: loving your neighbors, helping those in need, treating others as you’d like to be treated.”

  “Ah-ha. So that’s what people mean when they say, ‘Jesus is the reason for the season.’”

  “That’s right.”

  “And ‘Keep Christ in Christmas.’”

  “Exactly.”

  The approval and warmth in Sister Lou’s gaze was much more encouraging of Shari’s religious instruction than her foster jailer’s angry rants and scathing scolds had been. She was tempted to ask a few more questions about the meaning of the season, and what evergreen trees had to do with Bethlehem—or Nazareth or wherever Jesus had been born—but she was on deadline. Perhaps another time.

  “Did anything stand out to you, either in the crime scene or during the statements the deputies took?” Shari had been impressed by Sister Lou’s perceptions and insights when they’d worked together to solve Dr. Maurice Jordan’s murder. Had her powers of observation detected anything in particular that morning?

  Sister Lou’s dark eyes took on a faraway look. “I can’t shake the sense that something was odd about the way we found Autumn.”

  “Like what?”

  Her friend seemed to hesitate. “She was sitting on her chair.”

  Shari waited for more. When Sister Lou remained silent, she prompted her. “What was so odd about that?”

  “Why wasn’t she on the floor?” Sister Lou’s voice was faint as though she was talking to herself. “If someone was attacking you, wouldn’t you back away—or at least stand up? Why would you let them get close enough to choke you?”

  “Maybe the killer picked her up and put her on the chair?”

  “Autumn didn’t look as though she’d been placed on the chair. She was seated as though she’d been sitting on it when the killer attacked her. And the room was tidy. It didn’t look as though there’d been a struggle.”

  “So you don’t think Autumn felt threatened at first, which means her attacker probably wasn’t a stranger.”

  “That was the impression I had.”

  Shari made a note of that. “Did her partner or any of her employees have theories about who might have killed her?”

  “No one mentioned anything.” There was an odd note in Sister Lou’s voice.

  Shari searched her friend’s troubled features. “What’s bothering you?”

  Sister Lou hesitated. “During one of my meetings with Autumn, her cousin barged into the office. They had a heated argument, then her cousin threatened to kill her. Kelsey, Autumn’s assistant, is aware of this, but she didn’t mention it to the deputies.”

  Shari’s right hand flew across the sheet of paper. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “I didn’t feel comfortable bringing it up since Kelsey hadn’t.”

  It may sound like an odd defense, but Shari understood. The other two women—Kelsey and Rita—had known Autumn longer and better than Sister Lou had. If they didn’t think the altercation between Autumn and her cousin was worth mentioning, why would Sister Lou?

  Shari finished noting the information. “Can you think of anything else?”

  “Just one thing: Autumn’s home had been ransacked, presumably by the person who killed her. What was the murderer looking for, and had he or she found it?”

  “Good question.” Another note, then Shari hesitated. “Chris told me Deputies Cole and Tate were the ones who’d interviewed you.” She tried for a casual tone. “How did they seem?”

  Sister Lou gave her a wry look. “If you’re wondering whether they’re still upset about my involvement in Mo’s murder investigation, yes, they are.”

  Shari sighed. “Which means they’re still upset with me, too.”

  “Probably. I’m afraid you’ll have a hard time getting them to cooperate with you.”

  “No surprise there.” Shari scowled at her notepad. “If it wasn’t for you, they would’ve arrested the wrong person. Should we have let that happen?”

  “Look at it from their perspective. If you were in law enforcement, would you want your case to be solved by a reporter, a college executive, and a sister?”

  “That sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.” Shari shrugged restlessly. “How about saying the murder had been solved by the victim’s friends?”

  Sister Lou spread her hands. “I’m on your side.”

  “I know.” Shari rubbed her forehead. Hard. “Diego wants me to get quotes from Cole and Tate. What do I do if they don’t return my calls?”

  “Keep after them, Shari. You’ll find a way to make them talk.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “You’ll figure something out. I have faith in you.”

  “That makes one of us.” Shari expelled a heavy breath. “No, I’m going to take a page from your book and investigate Autumn Tassler’s murder myself.”

  “Won’t that further damage your relationship with the deputies?”

  “At least I’ll be able to give my readers information.”

  “Your editor wants updates from law enforcement.”

  “But they’re giving me the silent treatment.”

  “I’m afraid your plan will end up irritating the deputies and your editor.”

  Shari gave Sister Lou a baleful look. “So my choices are: irritate the deputies by pressuring them for a quote, irritate my editor by not quoting the deputies, or irritate my editor and the deputies by working the case myself.”

  “That sums it up.”

  She had three choices and none of them was optimal. “That’s really irritating.”

  * * *

  “Did you know your reporter was going t
o print this story?” Tuesday morning, Sister Marianna charged into Sister Lou’s office. She stopped in front of her desk and shook a copy of The Briar Coast Telegraph in the air. It wasn’t even eight o’clock.

  All that shaking back and forth made Sister Lou motion sick. She switched her gaze from the newspaper to Sister Marianna’s face and dug deep for a bright smile. “Good morning, Marianna. Did you sleep well?”

  The angry flush in Sister Marianna’s thin cheeks deepened. “I am not in the mood to be toyed with, Louise. Did you—”

  “I’m not toying with you, Marianna. I’m trying to defuse this situation before it needlessly spirals out of control.” Sister Lou inclined her head toward her guest chairs. “Why don’t you stop waving the paper and have a seat? Make yourself comfortable.”

  “I don’t want to sit. I don’t want to be comfortable. I want you to answer my question.”

  If only she knew how much of a struggle it is for me to control my temper right now.

  Sister Lou filled her lungs with the fragrance of the white tea potpourri that scented her office. She held Sister Marianna’s gaze and controlled her tone. “Please take a seat and we’ll talk. Otherwise, please leave my office.”

  Sister Marianna started to argue, but she hesitated. She took a closer look at Sister Lou and reconsidered her actions.

  “Really, Louise.” She settled onto one of the visitor’s chairs. “Did you know Shari Henson was going to write a front-page article about Autumn’s murder?”

  Sister Lou appreciated the effort Sister Marianna had made to control her tone. Baby steps. “For the record, Shari writes the articles. Her editor decides on which page it’s going to appear. Details like that matter.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether it was Shari’s decision or her editor’s to plaster this story all over the front page of the newspaper. What matters is the damage this story will do to our congregation’s reputation.”

  “How do you think it will hurt us?”

  “You can’t be serious.” Sister Marianna’s eyes stretched wide in disbelief. “This is the second murder with a connection to our congregation. First, you invited a very controversial figure to be the featured speaker at our Saint Hermione Feast Day celebration. He was found murdered the morning of the presentation.”