Alibis & Angels

by Olivia Matthews

  Sister Lou finally reached their table. “Good morning, Mayor Stanley, Marianna.”

  “Good morning, Louise.” Sister Marianna spoke with a calm confidence that Heather envied in this moment. “I was just telling Mayor Stanley about our ministries.”

  “What a wonderful idea, Marianna. Thank you for sharing that information with the mayor.” Sister Lou turned toward Heather. Her eyes were clouded with concern. “Are you ready to go, Mayor Stanley?”

  Sister Marianna interrupted them. “Where are you going?”

  Sister Lou’s smile seemed tight and unnatural. “We’re going to see a friend.” She turned to Heather. “She’s waiting for us.”

  “Is it Kerry? What’s happened?” Heather hurried to catch up with Sister Lou after detouring briefly to return her dishes and tray to the serving area.

  Sister Lou shared a worried look with Heather. “The deputies arrested her this morning.”

  Chapter 30

  Sister Lou tried but failed to convince the mayor to first try diplomacy. Instead, in a manner reminiscent of Shari’s, Heather marched into the sheriff’s office Saturday morning and confronted the deputies. “Why is my administrative assistant in your jail?”

  Seated behind a desk burdened by coffee-stained papers, Ted rocked back on his chair. “Is this how you thank us for finding the person who threatened to kill you and may have killed your finance director?”

  Heather set her hands on her hips. “If you had found the stalker, I would thank you, but you’ve arrested an innocent person.”

  “Kerry Fletcher isn’t innocent.” Fran interrupted them.

  Sister Lou turned to Fran who was typing something into her computer. “What evidence do you have to support your charges?”

  Fran hit a few more computer keys before looking up at Sister Lou. “We found one of her letters to the mayor.”

  Heather’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  Sister Lou was speechless. She took the large plastic evidence bag that Fran offered her. The bag held a plain white sheet of paper. The paper was completely wrinkled as though someone had balled it up to throw away and someone else had retrieved it and attempted to smooth it out. The latest threat had been typed onto the paper: Outsider, do not run for office again. Leave Brair Coast now or face the consequences.

  “‘Briar Coast’ is spelled wrong.” Sister Lou made the observation almost absently. “That doesn’t seem like an error that someone who works in the mayor’s office would make, does it?”

  Ted rolled his eyes. “It’s just a typo. Big deal. It’s probably the reason she didn’t send that one.”

  Sister Lou passed the evidence bag to Heather. “Where did you find this note?”

  Fran turned, pulling her chair under the desk. “It was crumpled up and tucked into a corner of one of the drawers in her nightstand. We got the warrant to search her apartment this morning.”

  Sister Lou frowned, trying to follow the deputies’ logic. “What prompted you to ask for a search warrant?”

  “It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out.” Ted crossed his arms over his deep chest, rocking back on his seat. “When you finally accept the truth, you’re going to kick yourselves for not catching the other clues sooner.”

  Sister Lou gestured toward the evidence bag that Heather still held. “Does it strike you as strange that Kerry crumpled this anonymous, threatening letter allegedly addressed to her boss, then hid it in a corner of her nightstand drawer?”

  Ted rolled his eyes again. “As opposed to doing what with it?”

  Sister Lou tilted her head in question. “Why didn’t she throw it away? I’m certain she has trash receptacles in her apartment. If she didn’t want the letter to be found, she could have burned it. Why hide it in a drawer?”

  Fran shook her head. “Who knows her motivation? Maybe she didn’t want to destroy it. Maybe she wanted to keep it as a memento.”

  Heather looked up from the evidence bag. Her eyes, shadowed by pain and confusion, locked on to Sister Lou’s. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe it. This doesn’t even sound like Kerry.”

  “Then perhaps it’s not.” Sister Lou turned to Fran and Ted. “Can we speak with her?”

  Fran shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt.”

  Sister Lou, Heather, and even Fran ignored Ted’s disapproving growl.

  Minutes later, Sister Lou sat with Heather and Kerry in one of the interrogation rooms. It looked nothing like the interrogation rooms in television police procedurals. It was small, but comfortable, with gray tiled flooring and pale yellow walls. The faint scent of wildflowers came from a scented plug-in affixed to the corner socket. Sister Lou glanced over her shoulder at the two-way mirror again.

  If I were a betting person, I’d lay odds that Fran, Ted, or both are listening to this conversation.

  “I haven’t done anything.” Kerry’s plaintive words claimed Sister Lou’s attention. The young woman’s voice was tight with fear. Her eyes were wide with panic and wet with unshed tears. “Heather—Mayor Stanley—I swear to you. I don’t know anything about threats against you.”

  Sister Lou wanted to embrace the young woman and assure her that everything would be all right. However, that required more confidence than she had right now. “Kerry, how did that note come to be in your nightstand?”

  “I don’t even know.” Kerry swallowed hard.

  Sister Lou tried another angle. “Most of the threats Mayor Stanley received were delivered through her office mail. You handle her mail. Do you have any thoughts on how or when those messages could have been added?”

  Kerry shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that, either. I just collect the mail that’s sent up to the mail room in those plastic tubs.”

  Sitting back against the hard gray plastic chair, Sister Lou considered Kerry. The young woman looked lost and frightened out of her mind. Kerry stared down at her hands, which she’d gripped together on the polished surface of the oak wood table. One tear traveled over her round pink cheek and bounced against her knuckles. She quickly wiped her hand over her face. Either Kerry was an excellent actress or she was innocent.

  Heather hadn’t said a word since they’d entered the room. She’d sat beside Sister Lou, looking at her administrative assistant as though Kerry was a stranger to her. Sister Lou felt a chill.

  Please, Heather, don’t lose faith now. I could be wrong, but I truly don’t believe Kerry is our villain.

  Sister Lou recalled her conversation with Owen during the fund-raising event. “There are rumors that you resent Mayor Stanley because she forced you to work odd hours.”

  “What?” Heather and Kerry reacted at once. They both stared at Sister Lou as though she had two heads.

  “Where did you hear that?” Heather dug a packet of tissues from her purse and handed them to Kerry.

  Sister Lou didn’t hesitate to reveal her sources. “Owen Rodney said that you made Kerry work late hours and weekends.”

  “That must have been when I was taking classes to complete my master’s degree in finance,” Kerry explained. “Heather allowed some flexibility with my work hours to accommodate my class schedule. I graduated last May.”

  “Congratulations.” Sister Lou was amazed that the public had twisted such a generous gesture on Heather’s part to appear to be something negative—and all because they lacked the facts.

  “Thank you.” Kerry wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.

  Sister Lou contemplated the administrative assistant. “I have one last question for now.”

  “Yes, Sister?” Kerry spoke around a hiccup.

  Sister Lou reached across the table to cup the younger woman’s hand. “Who would want to frame you for threatening the mayor?”

  Kerry’s eyes widened. “No one.” She turned her attention to Heather who regarded Kerry without comment. Her face was expressionless. “Who would want to threaten you?”

  Heather broke her silence. “I’m posting your bail and
taking you home. We’ll get this straightened out.”

  Kerry wiped away more tears. “Thank you, Heather. I don’t know why this is happening.”

  Heather reached across the table to squeeze Kerry’s hand. “We’ll figure that out, too.”

  Sister Lou closed her eyes. We’re going to need a miracle.

  * * *

  “Kerry can’t be behind the threats to Heather.” Sister Lou jogged beside Sister Carmen. They seemed to be moving faster than usual in the predawn Monday hour. It was probably their relief at the warmer weather now that they were several days into March.

  “Why not?” Sister Carmen tugged her neon citrus orange knit cap farther down over her thick curly hair and ears.

  They were approaching the oval on the campus of the College of St. Hermione of Ephesus. The college’s fitness center stood across the street in their direct path. Through the glass façade, Sister Lou watched several familiar staff, students, and faculty members using the treadmills and stationary bicycles. Several of them she recognized as the early morning joggers who joined her and Sister Carmen outside in the spring, summer, and early fall. The colder climes had driven them to the indoor exercise equipment. The room for the faint of heart. Sister Lou smiled to herself.

  Sister Carmen seemed oblivious of the facility. Sister Lou gave it a speculative look before deciding that it just wasn’t cold enough to warrant running on those treadmills. She preferred the natural scenery. If she could survive jogging outdoors during December, January, and February, she could handle March.

  This past Saturday, for their long training run in preparation for their Memorial Weekend marathon, Sister Lou and Sister Carmen had logged thirteen miles. It had been difficult. Sister Lou was relieved that next Saturday, their training schedule allowed them to decrease their distance to ten miles.

  Sister Lou clapped her hands to keep her blood flowing. “There are several issues that keep me from accepting that Kerry is Heather’s stalker. The stalker claimed he mistook Opal for Heather. Kerry wouldn’t have made that mistake. Besides, she knew that Opal had attended that meeting in Heather’s place.”

  “Presumably Kerry was in the office during Opal’s attack.” Frosty breaths of air trailed Sister Carmen’s words. “She can’t be two places at one time.”

  “That’s another good point.” Sister Lou led them onto the campus’s oval.

  The space was deserted for now, but soon the women’s track and field team would join them. The student-athletes always exchanged enthusiastic greetings with Sister Lou and Sister Carmen, cheering them on as they sprinted past the duo on their way to the dirt trail that led from the college to the center of Briar Coast.

  Sister Carmen blew into her cupped hands through her citrus orange knit gloves. “You seem certain that the stalker is a man.”

  “We believe the stalker is the same person who attacked Heather about three weeks ago while she was jogging.” Three weeks and they still had no idea who the stalker could be, and bringing in the deputies hadn’t advanced their investigation. “Kerry wouldn’t have the strength to pick up Heather.”

  “I haven’t met Kerry, but I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Heather has the impression that her attacker was a man.”

  Sister Lou fell silent beside Sister Carmen. The cold pinched her face as she neared the end of their first lap around the oval. Winter’s scent—metal and moist earth—surrounded her. Their rhythmic footfalls were like white noise keeping her thoughts company. Who was Heather’s stalker? What was his motivation, and how was he adding his threats to Heather’s mail?

  “Good morning, Sisters!” The staggered choruses cut across the cold air to claim Sister Lou’s attention.

  She looked up to find that the women’s track and field team had joined them right on schedule. Their synchronized steps covered the pavement at a rapid pace with seemingly boundless strength, energy, and enthusiasm. Sister Lou returned their greeting. As usual, their appearance lifted her spirits and gave her an extra boost. They had the same effect on Sister Carmen. Sister Lou chuckled at her friend’s red-carpet-worthy smile and vigorous wave. She watched the nine young women disappear among the trees, bushes, and undergrowth that bordered the dirt trail that led deeper into Briar Coast.

  Sister Carmen touched Sister Lou’s arm. “You’re speeding up again.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Sister Lou forced herself to slow down.

  “What do you want to do about Kerry?”

  “I’m not sure.” Sister Lou frowned into the distance as she and Sister Carmen continued their second lap around the oval. “Kerry is at the center of this. Everything keeps coming back to her: the letters, the break-in.”

  “I can understand why the deputies suspect her. Kerry as the stalker is an easy answer, which makes her the perfect suspect. The fact that she handles the mayor’s mail would explain how the threats are being delivered.”

  “But it doesn’t make sense that a person would deliver her own anonymous threats.”

  “Not if she wants to remain anonymous.” Sister Carmen’s tone was dry.

  Sister Lou agreed. “Heather also mentioned that she gave Kerry an extra set of keys to her house in case she needed Kerry to retrieve something for her. If that’s the case, why would Kerry use the spare key instead of her own?”

  “Maybe she wanted to give the impression that a stranger broke into Heather’s house?”

  “Would a stranger have known that Heather kept a spare key hidden beneath one of the flowerpots on her porch?”

  “Probably not.” Sister Carmen sounded as frustrated as Sister Lou felt.

  “If you’re breaking into someone’s house, would you take the time to search for a spare key when you’re not even certain there is one?”

  “No, I would want to get in and get out as quickly as possible so that no one would notice me.”

  “Of course, which means the only way a stranger would know to look for the spare key is if someone told him there was a spare and where he could find it.”

  Sister Carmen turned wide eyes to Sister Lou. “Who did Kerry tell?”

  Sister Lou frowned. “I think I have a name for Shari to check.”

  Chapter 31

  “How can you be sure Kerry isn’t behind the threats? Her loyalty could be an act to maintain your trust.” Diego had been repeating variations of this warning since Heather had settled onto the passenger seat of his black SUV. He’d picked her up from the motherhouse early Monday morning to take her to work.

  Heather glared through the windshield. Diego was part of this particular amateur sleuth team, but maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to share How I Spent My Weekend with the newspaper editor. She was tired of repeating herself. “As I said, you didn’t see her. Sister Lou and I did, and we both believe that Kerry isn’t acting.”

  Diego stopped at a red light. “The deputies have pretty compelling evidence against Kerry with that letter they found in her nightstand.”

  Heather considered the view through the side passenger window. Perhaps she should get out and walk. They weren’t that far from town hall.

  “I trust every member of my team unequivocally.” She glanced at Diego. “I’m grateful to you for not reporting that the deputies arrested Kerry.”

  The light turned green. Diego continued on his path to town hall. “The public isn’t in danger. That’s my first concern. And we’ve agreed that Shari will cover this story once we’ve caught the stalker, but what about the other news outlets? If they get a tip on this story, how will you handle them?”

  “I met with my executive team yesterday to plan our strategy.” Heather rubbed her forehead between her eyebrows. The tension during that long Sunday meeting had been almost unbearable. Her team had been angry that she hadn’t told them about the messages and the threats’ connection to Opal’s death. Their reaction had been justifiable, but if she could go back in time, she’d make the same decision. “If we get a lot of media inquiries, we’ll release a statement t
hat my office is looking into rumors of these threats and that it’s absurd to think that anyone in my office would be involved.”

  Diego seemed satisfied. “That’ll fly. Let’s hope you won’t need it.”

  Silence settled into the SUV as Diego continued toward town hall. Rush hour in Briar Coast—both morning and evening—was nonexistent compared to the traffic Heather had navigated in El Paso, Texas, and even Norman, Oklahoma. She hoped it would always be this way.

  Being chauffeured to work had its perks, including the luxury of soaking in the scenery. Heather loved Briar Coast. She loved the architecture’s understated grandeur, and the landscaping both natural and designed. Most of all, she loved the people and the way they loved their town. They’d made it through the near economic crisis brought about by the previous administration’s policies with determination, self-sacrifice, and good humor. This community was the definition of good neighbors.

  Heather sank deeper onto the cloth bucket seat. The vehicle was warm and toasty. This made it even easier to forget that the weather outside was cold and biting. As late as last week, these buildings, sidewalks, and streets had been covered in pure white layers of snow. Those beautiful layers had been shoveled, then froze into abstract blocks of ice.

  Trees that lined the sidewalks were brown and bare. Their arms were raised as though in surrender to the cold climes. Their acquiescence was a ploy, though. In a matter of weeks, these same trees would fight their way back, shooting buds in acts of defiance, much like the occupants of the buildings and residences beyond those tree lines.

  “I’ll miss this.” Diego’s statement made its way into Heather’s reverie.

  She switched her attention to her companion’s chiseled profile. A deep breath drew in his clean soap and sandalwood scent. “Miss what?”