The Mother's Day Murder Read Online Free PDF

night.”
    I smiled. It was an accurate description. “And I stayed for fifteen years.”
    “Didn’t you used to take trips back to your family on a regular basis?”
    I was surprised she remembered. “Yes, I did. I have a retarded cousin that I was anxious to keep up with. I see him frequently now. We live in the same town.”
    “Anyone ever talk about me after I was gone?”
    “As a matter of fact, they didn’t talk about you at all, at least not to me.”
    “Well, you were young and delicate. They wanted to keep you pure and unsullied.”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Now that we have that out of the way, tell me what you’re here for. You didn’t come here to chat me up on old times.”
    “I have a couple of questions to ask you about thingsthat happened before I got to St. Stephen’s. I hope you’ll be able to help me.”
    “Why not? I have a pretty good memory. What’s this all about?”
    “It’s a little complicated,” I said, “and I don’t want to go into the whole story right now, especially if you’re about to have company. I wondered whether you remembered if Sister Joseph left the convent for any period of time.”
    She got a perplexed look on her face, as though she might not have understood the question. Then she said, “You mean like a few months or so?”
    “Yes.”
    She stared at me as if trying to figure me out. “Strange question,” she said. “I’m getting bad vibes. But yes, I think she did. I couldn’t tell you the year or how long she went for, but I remember that she took a leave of absence or some such thing.”
    “Do you know where she went?”
    “What’s your name now?” she asked. “I don’t suppose you’re still Edward.”
    “I’m Chris, Chris Bennett. And I’m married. My married name is Brooks.”
    “So it was a man.” She looked amused.
    “It wasn’t a man. I met him after I left. I got permission to leave.”
    “I didn’t.”
    That didn’t surprise me. “You just left.”
    “I just up and walked out.” She ground her cigarette into an ashtray loaded with butts. “Never looked back. Never heard from any of them again. Till right now. You’re the first.”
    And obviously I wasn’t inquiring about her health. “Are you still Jane?”
    “That’s what I am, Jane Anthony Cirillo. I never changed. I think I got off on a tangent. What was it you were asking me?”
    I glanced at my notes to make sure. “I wanted to know if you remembered where Sister Joseph went when she took time off.”
    “Where she went, let’s see. Somewhere west, I think. I wasn’t a personal friend of hers, you know. Why don’t you ask her, or aren’t you on speaking terms?”
    “We are, but I’d like to find out without asking directly.”
    “That sounds interesting.”
    “Do you remember if she was visiting family?”
    “Family. She was one person up there that didn’t talk family. I had sisters and brothers and I talked about them because they were part of my life, but she didn’t. She was like—how can I put it?—like she had no one outside the convent.”
    “But she took vacations,” I said. “She went to visit people.”
    “But she didn’t come back with stories.”
    It was true. You would see Joseph when she returned from a vacation and she always looked happy and well rested, but she never talked about where she had gone and whom she had seen, except for the times that she attended conferences. But that wasn’t family.
    “You trying to find her family?” Jane asked.
    “Not really. I don’t even know if she has one. I’m trying to find out where she went when she took that leave, whether she worked for someone, where she lived. I’ve run into someone who has an interest in knowing that.”
    “An anonymous someone?” She raised her eyebrows.
    “Yes.”
    “You’re really piquing my curiosity. What’s Joseph supposed to have done? Screwed up somebody’s books?”
    “No, nothing like that.”
    “I’m pretty sure she was gone for more than a few