The Missing Madonna Read Online Free PDF Page B

friend was most likely right. Lately she noticed that she was able to develop a case of jet lag on a trip between San Francisco and Los Angeles.
    She had just settled down in a comfortable chair in the community room and switched on the six o’clock news when the phone rang. She could hear Therese’s short staccato steps echo down the parquet hallway to the phone booth. She answered it on the third ring.
    Mary Helen could have laid odds that she would. In fact, she was secretly working on the theory that Therese, despite her deafness and arthritis, could catch the phone on the third ring from any spot in the entire convent. She was so good at it, Mary Helen speculated, that with a little backing, Therese could make phone-answering into an Olympic event.
    “It’s for you,” Therese called from the doorway, a little out of breath. “It’s your OWL friend. That Caroline Coughlin.”
    From the way she emphasized
that
Mary Helen could tell that she must have been privy to some of Caroline’s profanity.
    “Hello, Caroline.” Mary Helen didn’t have a chance to say anything more.
    “Have you heard from Erma?” Although Caroline’s voice was still controlled and polished, Mary Helen could hear an undertone of worry.
    “No, I haven’t. Not since we came home.” Mary Helen felt a flicker of dread in the pit of her stomach. “Is anything the matter?”
    “Noelle and I think there is. Lucy keeps saying that we are probably just missing her. Calling when she steps put and not calling when she is home. But you know Lucy—she doesn’t want to worry anyone.”
    “Has anyone talked to Erma?”
    “No, Sister, that’s my point. Nobody has heard from her all weekend. Lucy dropped her off at her apartment on Friday. She called her daughter that night to say she was home. But neither of them has heard from her since.”
    “Has anyone been to her apartment?” Mary Helen winced, reliving for a moment the awful scene she had discovered last December in the apartment of her secretary, Suzanne.
    “Yes. According to Lucy, her daughter dropped by on Sunday morning and let herself in. She found no Erma, no note, nothing that would indicate where her mother was.”
    That was a relief!
    “But in my opinion, Sister,” Caroline continued, “her daughter is about as effective as a pimple on an elephant’s ass. Excuse me.”
    For a moment, Mary Helen was taken aback. Saidwith Caroline’s finishing-school voice, that last little vulgarity sounded like poetry. She swallowed a laugh.
    Today Noelle called the man Erma works for, but he was vague. He said something about her mentioning visiting relatives in St. Louis. But it does seem preposterous that she would leave again so soon.”
    “St. Louis! I thought she was born and raised here.”
    “That doesn’t mean she couldn’t have relatives in St. Louis,” Caroline answered reasonably, leaving Mary Helen feeling somewhat foolish.
    “You’re our last hope,” she said. “We thought perhaps she might have called you or said something.”
    “No.” Mary Helen could feel her dread growing. “As a matter of fact, I was just beginning to wonder myself. It’s just not like Erma not to have called today to chat.”
    “Not a bit,” Caroline agreed.
    In her mind’s eye, Mary Helen could see her nod her head of beautifully coiffured champagne hair. She wondered crazily if Caroline was wearing her hat and gloves.
    “And what is more, it is not a bit like her to leave without saying something to her family and friends. She just isn’t that kind of person, unless . . .” Caroline left the sentence unfinished.
    “But you say Lucy isn’t worried?” Mary Helen asked, trying not to overreact.
    Caroline hesitated. “If you ask me, she’s pretending not to be. You know, today is the day the two of them are supposed to go to class up there at Mount St. Francis. When Erma didn’t call, Lucy tried her, but there was no answer.”
    Unexpectedly, Mary Helen’s heart turned over, but