Back in the Habit (24 page)

“No one's going to have a cow about that now.”

“Yeah.” Her smile lost its guilty air. “They're both gone now. They're not coming back, right?”

Giulia looked up at Frank.

“Yes, Sister. You'll be called on to make a statement and testify at their trials.”

Bart nodded. “Good. Vivian will too. Sister Gretchen will take care of it.” She sat next to Giulia. “When you two kissed each other back there, it was like watching your hero crumble to bits.” She ducked her head. “I kind of started to look up to you this week. You've got balls.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sister Gretchen will kill me.”

Frank studied the painted ceiling.

Giulia laughed. “Thank you for the compliment. I'm sorry I had to lie to you, but it goes with the job.”

“Bridget will stop haunting the laundry now.”

Sister Gretchen came over to them. “I want to corral everyone into the refectory. It's early, but coffee and tea will give them something to occupy themselves. They need to get out of this insanity.”

Bart stood. “I'll start with the Blessed Virgin side.” One step down, she turned back to Giulia. “You're going, aren't you?”

“Yes. I have paperwork to fill out.” She struck a pose. “My work is finished here.”

Bart wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like a line from a corny Western.”

“It made you smile.”

“Cheater.” She held out her hand. “Thanks.”

Giulia stood and clasped it. “Bridget wasn't haunting the laundry.”

Bart looked skeptical, but turned her attention to the milling, gesturing groups in the nave.

Giulia said to Frank, “That's why I may not have stopped Sister Arnulf from throwing that pipe bomb. When I get back to the world, I'll get my head on straight. You got the psychiatric rider on the insurance, right?”

Tony beckoned to them. “Sister—Gretchen, is it? Thanks to some fast talking, our no-longer-retired bomber is under house arrest. A female officer will be stationed outside her door for the next few days.”

Gretchen visibly exhaled. “Thank you, Officer. I'll be available to help sort things out whenever you require me.”

Frank said, “I'll drive Giulia to the station and we'll get the process started.”

“Good. It's going to be a long day.” Tony went back into the vestry.

“Where did you park?” Giulia adjusted her veil.

“In the driveway. When we missed the priest at his house, we came over here in a hurry. Why is that thing still on your head?”

“Because I have to go upstairs to pack my clothes, and I don't want to be delayed by a lot of questions.” She smoothed her habit. “See? Just another Sister dealing with the Saint Francis Day Scandal. I'll meet you outside in ten minutes.”

She weaved through the stragglers in the hallway and main hall. No one stopped her. She stuffed her clothes in her old black suitcase any which way. “Out of here,” she practically sang to herself. “Home. Free. The Novices safe. The scum locked away.” Desk drawer emptied. Dresser drawer emptied. Toiletries, spare habit, pantyhose both pristine and wrecked. Her Godzilla slippers. “Huh. Never took them out of the wardrobe.”

A last look around the room with her hand on the doorknob. “Goodbye and good riddance, cell. Never again.”

As soon as she'd closed the door behind her, Sister Mary Stephen launched herself from across the hall.

“Regina, what horrible scandal have you involved the Community in?”

Giulia set down her suitcase and held out her hand.

“Allow me to introduce myself, Sister Mary Stephen. I'm Giulia Falcone. I've been working undercover here for the past few days, and now I'm going home.”

Mary Stephen took Giulia's hand with an automatic motion, but simply stared without returning the handshake.

Giulia squeezed and released the limp hand. “The Community may be saying good things about me again. I'm afraid you've been sucking up to the wrong people.”

She walked away, open raincoat flapping against her suitcase.

“Regina?”

“Offer it up, Mary Stephen. Offer it up.”

The din from the chapel seemed twice as loud now that it was trapped inside the refectory.

Poor Sister Gretchen. Now that she's taken temporary charge, the ten-ton weight from Fabian and Ray's sins will get dropped on her shoulders.

Giulia reached the hall. She didn't detect any smoke odor this far from the chapel, but muddy bootprints discolored the rug. Scuff marks marred the paint in the foyer and dirtied the floor.
Of course—firemen aren't interested in the floor polish when they're trying to save your house. Fabian would have a cow if she could see it.

She turned the door handle.
And what Fabian wants doesn't matter anymore.
Her grin stretched her cheeks so wide, her veil popped off the tops of her ears.

Frank's Camry idled in the same spot the Convent Clown Car had parked the night before.

Giulia paused in the doorway and took a huge breath of cold fall air. Then she ran down the steps.

Thirty-one

At ten o'clock the
next morning, Giulia rang the Motherhouse doorbell—the habits, veils, crucifix, and wedding ring in their box under her arm. Her rented Kia Soul—she couldn't resist—was parked on the street behind the wall.

Sister Alphonsus answered, her smile more mechanical than sincere.

“Good morning, miss. May I help you?”

“Good morning, Sister. I have a package for Sister Gretchen. She's expecting me.”

“I see. I'm glad it wasn't with Sister Fabian—oh. Oh, dear, please don't mind me. We're all discombobulated today. Let me find Sister Bartholomew.”

Bart walked into the foyer at that moment.

“Sister, what perfect timing. This young lady is here to see Sister Gretchen.”

Bart looked from Giulia to the doorkeeper and back again. Giulia shook her head slightly, and Bart put on her cheerful smile.

“Good morning, I'm Sister Bartholomew. Just follow me.”

When they were on the first flight of stairs, Bart said, “She didn't recognize you?”

“Everyone looks different without the veil. How are the troops holding up?”

“The older ones are handling it better than the middle-aged ones. Vivian had to be sedated. The Postulants called home, and they're both leaving.”

Giulia's stride broke. “I didn't think about them. Were they forced into dealing too?”

“No. He waited for vows.”

“To add to the guilt and pressure. Bastard. Oops.” She glanced around, but no one else was on that flight of stairs.

Bart laughed.

Giulia said, “If you'll forgive a cliché, you look like a different person.”

Bart's smile dimmed, but not for long. “We're free. I didn't realize the weight of it all till the ambulance took them both away. The cops were amazing. They let Sister Gretchen stay with me when I told them everything. I felt kind of bad for her, because there was some stuff I didn't get a chance to tell her in all the craziness.”

“Frank and I were with them for a good three hours after the Mass that didn't happen.”

They reached the fifth-floor landing.

“Where is everybody?” Giulia said. “I counted maybe ten people in the halls.”

“Lots of them are in the chapel, praying. Most of the visiting ones hit the road right after breakfast. Sister Gretchen's been huddled with the Superiors from the other Communities off and on, working out a stopgap plan to run the place.”

When they reached the Novices' living room, Bart took Giulia by the shoulders. “You look so different. It's not just the pants and sweater and makeup. You look, I don't know, bouncier.”

Giulia smiled. “I'm free again. Leaving here—for real—was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Coming back and pretending to belong, and lying, and searching out a murderer, well … let's say I looked for premature gray hair in my mirror last night.”

“I'm staying, you know.” Bart held her head high when she said it. “Sister Gretchen and I talked till some ungodly hour this morning. I didn't expect to reach that decision, but when I said it out loud, I knew it was right.”

“Good for you. If God's talking to you, then you have to listen.”

Sister Gretchen's door opened. “Sister Regina? No, wait. I'm sorry. I've forgotten your name. It's been crazy here.”

“No problem. It's Giulia.”

The Novice Mistress closed her sitting room door and pulled out two chairs at a small round table.

Giulia set the box on top of the table. “Everything's in there. Two habits, two veils, crucifix and wedding band.”

Sister Gretchen placed one hand on the box. “Bart told me what you've been doing here this week. She insists that the situation is not my fault, but I disagree. I'm responsible for them, body and soul, for a year and a day. I should have noticed that there was more to everything than the standard adjustment period.”

“You didn't get invested with psychic powers when Fabian promoted you. Don't beat yourself up over this. Ray had been dealing for six years after he took over his father's ten-year business.”

“Oh, my Lord.”

“There's a sad story behind his father's fall, but I have no sympathy to spare for Ray. He's a criminal and a predator, and if I had my way I'd slice his junk off with a serrated knife and feed it to him.” Giulia's fists clenched and then relaxed. “I'm glad Bart's content with her decision to stay. I know I don't have to ask if she and Vivian will be getting counseling.”

“Their first appointments are tomorrow.” Sister Gretchen rubbed her temples. “I know about the box of razor blades, too. Now that the danger is gone, Bart told me everything. The police assured me that she and Vivian won't be prosecuted.”

Giulia sighed with relief. “There is justice in the world. I wish there was some kind of deal the Community could make for Sister Arnulf.”

Sister Gretchen looked down at the tabletop. “You don't have to worry about that.”

“Really? Why?”

“They're gone.”

Giulia's forehead wrinkled. “I'm sorry?”

Sister Gretchen bit her cheek. “Sister Winifred was on the phone for hours yesterday with the Swedish consulate and the Diocesan office. We all thought she was arranging lawyers and more interpreters and giving them the details of what the three of them had done. The police officer sent to guard them arrived before noon. She stayed in the hall outside their doors, followed them down to the refectory, went everywhere with them except the bathroom.”

“How did that affect the general morale?”

“Everyone was numb by then. Even the most gossip-ready hardly gave her a glance.”

“But you said the three Sisters are gone.”

Sister Gretchen looked like she was making an effort to appear ashamed. “Even police officers have to use the facilities. Sister Theresa volunteered to take her place in the hallway for those times.” A pause. “After Compline, when she was in the bathroom, Sister Winifred spirited them out and to the airport. By this time, they're back home.”

“What? They set off a homemade bomb. That's an act of terrorism. Homeland Security will—”

“Actually, there's a ninety-five percent chance they won't. The Church has more power than I imagined, even in this modern day. A few years back a diocese in Arizona had a priest accused of pedophilia. His bishop put him on a two a.m. flight out of the country before an arrest warrant was issued. The priest made it to Ireland, and the Justice Department decided it wasn't worth fighting the might of the Church to extradite him.”

“You'll forgive me for saying this, but I hope someone took care of him in a dark alley the same day he landed.”

Sister Gretchen didn't blink. “I confess to hoping the same when I heard about it. But the precedent helps our situation.”

Giulia nodded. “It's a good bet that they won't want to fight the Church to extradite three eighty-year-old nuns who took out a criminal like Father Ray.”

“That's what we're hoping. I should be appalled at myself for allowing this to happen.” She met Giulia's gaze. “But I'm not. I wanted them to go free, and I want Raymond to end up in a prison that doesn't take kindly to priests who—rape—young nuns.” Her jaw clenched.

“We'll do our best to see that it happens. And we'll keep telling ourselves that we're fighting for justice, not vengeance.”

Sister Gretchen unclenched. “You too? I'll pray for you if you'll pray for me.”

“Deal.” Giulia stood. “I have to get back to work. I couldn't count all the emails waiting for me. And I have an admin who's going to burst if I don't tell her what the convent is like.”

Sister Gretchen opened the door. “Bart will escort you down. Now that you're ‘you,' it would raise a few eyebrows if you walked around by yourself.”

Bart didn't say anything until they reached the front door. “Giulia, would you, um, write to me occasionally? I'm going to miss you.”

“Of course I will.” She gave Bart a crushing hug.

“Are you going to marry the detective who kissed you?”

Giulia gaped, then laughed. “One kiss does not a proposal make. Besides, he has issues with dating a former nun. Sometimes I think he sees a phantom veil on my head.”

“And you've been wearing a real one again.”

She grimaced. “I know. We've regressed to the days when I first talked to him. It's tough to uproot the indoctrination in some Cradle Catholics, but I'll work at it.”

Sister Alphonsus opened the door and they stepped out onto the porch.

“Get inside before you catch your death. What do you think this is, a midnight coffee run?”

Bart laughed and returned to the foyer. The door closed. Giulia took another deep, wonderful breath and jogged to her car. While she waited for the heat to kick in, she drove two blocks to the Double Shot.

“A large pumpkin cappuccino, please.” The barista did a double-take, then shook his head and brewed her coffee.

She took the first sip inside the car just as her phone rang.

Frank started talking as soon as she opened the phone. “Where are you?”

“Hello, Frank. I'm in the car about to come back to the office.”

“Good. Sidney says she's getting pizza for lunch in honor of your triumphant return, and she promises it won't have too much tofu.”

“Despite the threat of tofu, I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wait. Are you ready for this? The Diocese of Pittsburgh just called. They're so happy with the way we kept the scandal out of the news that they want to talk about putting us on retainer. Can you imagine? The Church! My grandmother is step-dancing in Heaven right now.”

Giulia turned the heat up. “That's great, Frank, but fair warning. If we get any more convent jobs, you're going undercover in drag.”

THE END