by J. D. Faver
She slipped off her rubber-soled shoes and stretched out on the narrow mattress. Clutching the bag in her arms, she stared at the ceiling. Runaway tears trickled down her temples and into her hair. She didn’t notice.
Her thoughts were on Colin. He had been jubilant on their return from the Caribbean. She had thought it was because he loved her, but the money probably had a lot to do with it.
She could never ask the questions screaming in her head because Colin was so very dead. Did he intentionally leave the small carry-on bag in her dressing room or was it an accident?
When Teri first discovered Colin’s bag, she hadn’t checked the contents but had tried to call him immediately. It went straight to voice mail, inspiring her to deliver the bag. She expected him take her to dinner as a reward.
When she’d pulled into the reserved parking space with her name on it, a reward from Mr. Kelso, their employer, for her exceptional performance, she hadn’t been able to resist feeling proud of herself. She saw Colin’s car parked in his usual space next to Mr. Kelso’s slot by the stairs, a healthful activity according to Martin Kelso. She’d wondered if Colin had jogged up to the sixth floor in case Mr. Kelso was watching.
Instead, she found him on the floor of his ransacked office with a bullet in his head. She stood over Colin, fighting the wave of nausea that engulfed her, clutching his bag as she was now, unable to move, unable to think.
When she heard someone coming, she panicked and ducked into the closet. She’d held her breath as the two men argued, the taller man ranting at the other.
The narrow louvered slats of the bi-fold closet doors allowed Teri to see the stocky man who knelt to rummage through Colin’s pockets. The other stood, berating his associate in a raspy, threatening voice that was etched on her memory. She would never forget the sound of that voice.
Apparently the speaker had instructed his associate to obtain the money from Colin before killing him. The angry man made it clear that the money was his. Shoving the short man out of the way, he took a few minutes to go through Colin’s pockets for himself and then, locating his keys, departed. As he squatted in Teri’s line of sight, she saw a badge and gun holstered at his belt, just like Detective Garcia’s and, on the back of his hand a flat, shiny scar that might have resulted from a burn.
Scarcely daring to breathe, Teri waited until she was sure they’d gone before leaving her hiding place. Carefully skirting Colin’s corpse, she crept down the darkened stairwell and locked herself inside her car in the deserted parking garage. Her heart pounded in her ears as she sat gripping the steering wheel, struggling to make sense of her situation.
Colin was dead and she’d seen the murderers. If she went to the police they would surely arrest them, except that one, maybe both were the police.
Backing out of her parking space, she spied the two men going through the trunk of Colin’s car. The short man yelled out and ran toward her. He drew a gun from his jacket and fired a shot.
It hadn’t sounded the way she’d thought a gunshot would sound. The bullet landed with a soft thunk, embedding in the side of her car. Teri ground her foot on the gas pedal. Peeling out of the garage, she veered into traffic, not knowing if they were in pursuit.
She didn’t return to her apartment and she didn’t go to the police. The killers knew her name, embellished in ornate script lettering above her parking space. Reserved for Teri Slaughter. Even with her minimal celebrity, it wouldn’t be hard to find her.
She’d driven straight to her sister’s convent in Maine. Teri needed the wisdom and comfort only Bernie, her best friend and confidant could provide. At the time, the idea of masquerading as a nun had seemed like a reasonable alternative to being murdered. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Being Bernie was easy. Just become everything Teri Slaughter was not. Teri whacked her long, trademark tresses at the nape of her neck. It had taken her years to grow her hair so long. She wore the simple skirts and shirts Bernie favored. The most absurd thing was Bernie’s choice of underwear. Teri now owned a weeks worth of plain white granny panties and cotton bras. Giving up her beautiful lingerie was a sacrifice, but at least she was still alive.
She ditched her car at the airport and took a taxi to the bus station. The long ride to San Antonio was cathartic. She rode in the back of the bus, looking out the window at the countryside rolling by and discovered she could breathe by the time she crossed the Arkansas state line.
Mother Immaculatta was delighted that Sister Bernadette decided to settle in early and welcomed her effusively. Teri had counted on her trusting nature, thinking that she wouldn’t check the convent in Maine to substantiate the whereabouts of the real Sister Bernadette.
She spent the rest of July getting to know the nuns and practice being Bernie. By the time school started in August she was in character. She’d almost forgotten her past as she focused on the daily events in her new life.
Both Teri and Bernie had majored in art but Teri dropped out to begin her modeling career. Luckily she could still paint and draw. This had proven to be an advantage when she turned to advertising as a career.
She set up an easel in a corner of the apartment she shared with the “young ones” as Mother Superior called them. She painted when she had free time just as Bernie did.
She straightened up and wiped the tears with the back of her hand. Zipping the bag, she left it on top of the bed.
She paced around the apartment, her mind a blank. She filled a glass with ice and poured tea over it from the sun tea jar Sister Clement always had on the windowsill. Teri was adapting to the Texas habit of drinking iced tea with each meal
She wondered if Detective Garcia had any inkling of her true identity. He hadn’t seemed overly suspicious, but then, who questions a nun?
Teri figured she’d put on a good ten pounds, but there wasn’t a scale. She had gone from a size four to a size eight. When she got back to New York she would hire a personal trainer and go to the gym every day. For now, the extra pounds were part of her disguise.
She removed two crisp hundred-dollar bills from the bag and stuffed them in her pocket along with her keys. Unfolding a brown paper grocery bag from the pantry, she placed the rest of the money inside.
Teri walked to the Wal-Mart two blocks from the apartment. She purchased a pair of jeans and a yellow knit shirt and changed in the restroom. Adding a San Antonio Spurs baseball cap and pair of hot pink sunglasses as accessories completed her outfit.
People who lived and worked near the convent could spot the nuns even in lay clothing. Teri didn’t want anyone to connect a nun with what she was about to do. She stuffed her conservative skirt and shirt in the plastic store bag. Another two blocks took her to a branch of a local bank.
She went inside and rented a safe deposit box, using Bernie’s social security number and her St. Pius School identification. When the banker left her alone, she took the money out of the bag and neatly arranged it in the drawer. She regarded it solemnly. Teri Slaughter had not wanted this money, nor had she done anything to deserve it but she was positive the men who killed Colin didn’t deserve it either. She folded the paper bag on top of the rows of bills.
The last thing she placed in the safe deposit box was a list of numbers written in Colin’s handwriting. She’d found it in a pocket of the carry-on bag. The list contained ten sets of numbers, in no sequence Teri could recognize. It had to be important so she’d saved it. She locked the drawer and put the key on her ring. If forced to take flight again she might not be able to go back to the apartment to get the money.
Teri immediately felt lighter, as though having all that cash hidden under her bed had been a huge burden.
Walking as fast as possible without drawing attention to herself, she returned to the apartment and then folded the jeans and knit shirt in the bottom of her bureau drawer. After pulling on her previous attire, she returned to the convent in time for supper.
Mother Imaculatta caught her eye when she entered and Sister C
lement waved gleefully. She took a chair between Clem and Sister Constantine or Connie as she was called.
“Oh, Bernie,” Clem said. “I was going to make you a sandwich if you didn’t make it to the dining hall in time for dinner.”
“Thanks, Clemmie,” Teri said.
“We have food at the apartment,” Connie said. “You could make something there.”
“Not as good as this,” Teri said. The delicious convent meals were the cause of her weight gain.
After supper they went to the chapel for evening prayers. Mother Superior drew her away from her friends and knelt beside her on the kneeler.
Teri was sure that Bernie would have been earnestly praying for her and she tried to apply herself to the task but found her mind wandering. She prayed for Colin, picturing his handsome, tanned face with the bullet hole in his forehead. She finally settled on a silent mantra begging for deliverance from her pursuers and a return to her former life.
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