Third Half Page 4

  "Believe us, Sister, we are on her side. In fact, we are also . . . ah . . . will also help investigate your brother's disappearance."

  "Oh, thank you . . .thank you so much," she said weakly, wondering if he had been about to tell her they were already investigating Jack's disappearance.

  "Are you all right?" Agent Steel asked sympathetically.

  "No . . .not really. I'm afraid this has all been such a strain on me. I shouldn't have come to my sister's apartment looking for her. I should have realized if the authorities haven't found her I certainly wouldn't. But now I can worry a little less, knowing the FBI is involved in this." She forced a grim smile, then suddenly moaned, hoping she wasn't overdoing her performance.

  Agent Knight went immediately to her side. "You really don't look good, Sister."

  "Actually, I could stand a drink of water. And maybe if I could sit for a moment," she said, as she placed the back of her limp hand to her forehead. "Perhaps . . .No, I doubt that you could."

  "Could what?" Agent Knight asked.

  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 o
ften 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."

  "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.