Bad Habit

by JD Faver

  BAD HABIT

  by J.D. Faver

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  *****

  Bad Habit

  Copywrite © 2011 by J.D. Faver

  Smashwords Editions, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  St. Pius School, San Antonio, Texas

  “Sister Bernadette, there’s a detective here to see you. He’s come all the way from New York City.” Mother Immaculata smiled encouragingly, drawing her into the corridor. “He’s waiting in the conference room. I’ll supervise your Art class.”

  The moment she’d dreaded had arrived. Teri Slaughter’s stomach knotted up in fear. It’s over. They found me.

  A deep breath released some of the tension in her shoulders. As she forced her leaden feet toward the conference room, the thought flickered through her mind of running outside and disappearing in the streets.

  Get hold of yourself! She expelled a long breath. I’ve been so careful. Maybe he doesn’t suspect me.

  Pausing with her hand on the knob, she weighed whether or not to continue her masquerade.

  A muscle tightened in her jaw. Teri Slaughter wasn’t a coward. If this cop takes me back to New York, I’ll die. I have to pull this off.

  She dusted the pastel chalk from her hands before running her fingers through her cropped hair. There was nothing to distinguish her from the others. Her plain white shirt and navy skirt were inconspicuous among the nuns.

  Her heart raced as she stepped into the conference room. Her gaze seized on a man in a dark suit standing at the far end of the room, his back to her.

  He turned around. His dark eyes assessed her, pierced her veneer, saw right through her. He was disarmingly handsome, well over six feet tall and with a lean muscular frame. He crossed the room, striding toward her with an athletic gait.

  Frozen in place, Teri fought down a sense of panic, her breath trapped in her throat.

  This man didn’t look like a killer, but rather, exuded an air of power and confidence. His strength reached out to her. “Sister Bernadette?” He extended his hand.

  Taking a deliberately deep breath, Teri unblocked the log jam in her chest.

  “I’m Detective Angel Garcia, from Manhattan Homicide Division.” His deep, articulate voice held no trace of a New York accent. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  She tried to speak but her mouth was dry. Wordlessly, she surrendered her hand.

  He enfolded it in his, clasping her with the right amount of firmness. Not too limp, not too tight. The perfect handshake for a man to give a woman when he threatened her very existence.

  “Looking for me, Detective?” she croaked.

  “At your former convent I was told you’d gone to Ireland on sabbatical and would be transferring to San Antonio when you returned.” He unclipped his identification from his belt beside the holstered weapon and handed it to her. “I have to ask you about your sister.”

  Teri stared, unseeing, at his photo ID and gold shield, wondering if he was in on it, wondering if he knew her true identity. Running her fingers over the embossing, she forced herself to stay focused. “Which sister?”

  He smiled for the first time, a broad flash of white, even teeth and his eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, momentarily softened. “I’m asking about your biological sister, Teresa Slaughter.” In spite of his smile, Detective Garcia’s eyes continued to dissect her.

  Summoning her courage, she gave him a smile she hoped conveyed innocence. She returned his credentials; forced her feet to move. “Would you like to sit down, Detective Garcia?” She indicated a chair at the conference table and seated herself across from him. “What do you want to know?” Her fingers traced the decorative nails in the maroon leather armchair.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  She inhaled deeply to steady herself and his scent filled her nostrils. He smelled nice. She hadn’t noticed how men smelled in a while. A fresh pain sliced through her as she remembered rubbing sun tan lotion on Colin and later, in the cabana, when the scent of coconut transferred to her.

  She jerked her attention back to the man who sat across from her, intent upon tearing her world apart. “Teri? I haven’t seen her in a while. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, Sister Bernadette but your sister, Teri Slaughter, seems to be missing.”

  “Are you sure?” She feigned surprise. “She works for an international company. She often travels for business purposes.”

  He cocked his head, raising a brow. “Wouldn’t she let you know if she was going to be out of the country?”

  “Not necessarily. When she’s traveling, she usually sends me a postcard or a letter with some photos. Sometimes she sends a present.” Teri knew she was rambling. She pressed her lips together to stop the flow of words.

  “Has she written lately?” His dark eyes were unreadable.

  She swallowed hard, feeling exposed. Does he believe me? “No, not lately.”

  “When did you last hear from her?”

  “A couple of months ago,” she said. “Why are you asking all these questions, Detective? You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry, Sister. Miss Slaughter’s boyfriend and co-worker, Colin Dowd, is dead and she’s missing. I have to locate her.”

  “Mother of God!” Teri covered her mouth with both hands. A picture of Colin, lying dead at her feet flashed through her mind. She had to be careful not to let anything slip. Her fingers went to the ornate silver cross Bernie had given her. “Are you saying that you think Teri is involved in Colin’s... in her friend’s death?” The words clawed their way up her throat.

  “I’m not saying that, Sister,” Detective Garcia said. “I need to question her. Can you think of any place she might go?” He gazed steadily at her across the table.

  “Not really. She has a nice apartment in the city but I suppose you looked there.”

  “Yes, first thing, but she’s disappeared. She took nothing with her. She owns her condominium outright. A few bills are paid automatically from her account. There’s a large balance in her checking account, but other than the direct payments there have been no other withdrawals.”

  “That doesn’t look good does it?” Teri tried to convey the proper amount of concern.

  “I won’t lie to you, Sister.” Angel leaned toward her. “It appears she may have taken a lot of cash with her when she ran. If that’s the case, she’ll eventually run out of money.”

  She leaned forward in the chair, gripping the arms. “So you think she’s alive?”

  He gave her another grin. “I’m still looking for her, Sister.” He drew a card from his pocket and extended it. “If you hear from Teri, let me know.”

  Her hand shook when she reached for the card. She read it carefully. “You think I’ll hear from her?” She heard the quiver in her voice and cleared her throat to cover it.

  Detective Garcia stood up and regarded her solemnly. “I was told that the two of you were pretty close. I’m sure you want to make sure she’s safe. If you can get in touch with her, it would be in her best interests to come forward.”

  “Teri’s best interests?” She raised her brows.

  “A man is dead and a woman is missing.”

  “I won’t lie to you either, Detective,” she said quietly. “My first loyalty is to Teri.”
<
br />   A smiled curved his lips but didn’t quite reach the darkest interior of his eyes. “Sister, I thought your first loyalty was to the church.”

  They gazed at each other solemnly. The silence lengthened.

  “You look a lot like your sister,” he said.

  “That’s what they say.”

  Teri sat at the table long after Detective Angel Garcia had left the building. She watched through the window as he walked down the curved flower-bordered sidewalk to the parking lot and climbed into a dark blue vehicle.

  Her hands were still trembling. Clasping them together, she wished she could get in touch with her sister Bernie.

  #

  Angel Garcia slid into his rental car and slammed the door. Sister Bernadette wasn’t what he’d expected. She certainly didn’t look like the nuns he remembered from his childhood and she wasn’t dressed like them. The nuns in her order wore simple street clothes. She could be any teacher.

  Teri Slaughter, who may or may not have dispatched her lover, had been a model before going into the advertising business. Her classic good looks took her to the top but she walked away from it all and found another way to sell herself.

  Angel had read the case files and interviewed her co-workers. They shared the opinion that Teri was exceptional and that Colin was a lucky man. But they didn’t know her current whereabouts or why she’d split. She wasn’t married, had no kids. Her only living relative was a nun.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. This case was loaded with dead ends.

  Sister Bernadette looked amazingly like Teri Slaughter, if you scrubbed off her make up, replaced her designer clothes and cut off a foot of long blonde hair.

  He frowned, drawing his brows together. It didn’t make sense.

  Why would such a beautiful woman choose to become a nun? Shaking his head, Angel started the car. She must have had a strong calling.

  #

  The Mother Superior stepped into the hall, gently closing the classroom door behind her. “Did you receive bad news, Sister Bernadette?” She spoke in her usual hushed tones.

  Trapped by her own deception, Teri sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not sure, Mother. My sister is missing. Would you mind if I went to my room? I’m quite shaken by the questions.”

  “I can see that. Would you like to go to the infirmary?” She peered at Teri through her wire rim glasses.

  “No, thank you, Mother Immaculata. I just need to lie down for a while.” Teri lowered her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with the nun.

  “Take the rest of the day to gather your thoughts. We’ll pray together after supper.” She patted Teri on the shoulder.

  “Yes, Mother.” Her voice was shaky. All she wanted to do was escape the kind, compassion-filled gray eyes. She turned and walked down the hall, trying to do so with a trace of decorum.

  Teri lived with three young nuns. They shared a two-bedroom apartment a block from the high school campus. She almost ran the block and up the stairs.

  The order was most eager to bring in younger nuns because many of the sisters were well over sixty and there wasn’t a line waiting to commit one’s life to celibacy, meditation and selflessly serving others. The apartment had been the Mother Superior’s idea. Teri thought Mother Immaculata was a most progressive woman in a most suppressive position.

  Teri’s hands were still shaking when she tried to get the key into the lock. The others were in class so she had a good two hours to herself. That’s what she missed most. The freedom to enjoy a little solitude whenever she liked.

  A tear rolled down the side of her nose. She wiped it away and another took its place. The police were looking for her and whoever killed Colin was looking for her. The Detective, Angel Garcia, was breathing down her neck. If he was this close, could the killers be far behind?

  She pulled Colin’s carry-on bag from under her twin size bed. Unzipping it, she looked at the bundles of hundred dollar bills. Most of it was still there.

  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. Teri 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. Teri 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.

  Teri 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 sat 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.