Read Online A Novena for Murder by Carol Anne O'Marie - Free Book Online

own fingers, she shot the fleeting Therese a V for victory.
    “Here I come,” she heard Eileen call cheerfully down the hallway.
    “I’ll warm up the brown car,” Mary Helen called back.
    With Eileen firmly planted in the passenger’s seat, Mary Helen pulled out of the garage. The headlights cut a comet of light through the low, dripping fog as she nosed the car down the curved driveway. The fog made small, bright halos around the headlights coming up the hill toward them.
    “I can’t see the cars coming in until they’re nearly on top of me,” Mary Helen said, shifting into low.
    “You keep an eye on the cars. I’ll keep an eye on the hill.” Eileen moved forward in her seat and crossed her fingers. “Don’t worry, old dear, I’ll let you know if the road disappears.”
    “Eileen, if the road disappears, we’ll both know it!” Mary Helen hit the bright beams.
    Eileen gasped. “Glory be to God, look!” She pointed over the side of the hill. “I swear by all that is good and holy, someone is crouching in the bushes.”
    Stopping the car, Mary Helen checked in the rear view mirror. “Eileen, how could you possibly see someone in the bushes over the side of the hill? We can hardly even see the road.”
    Carefully, she backed up and pulled over to the side.
    “When you put on that high beam, I know I saw a head in that clump of pampas grass.”
    Both nuns climbed out of the brown car. “I know I saw a head,” Eileen repeated, scrutinizing the mound of bluish-green grass. Its long, silvery-white plumes fluttered as cars passed on the opposite side of the road.
    “I don’t see a blasted thing,” Mary Helen said. And it’s just as well, she thought, because I don’t know what I’d do if I did.
    Eileen shrugged. “Well, I surely don’t see anyone now.” She stomped her feet to keep warm. “Maybe I’m just imagining things because of all that’s goneon. Besides, what in the world would we do if we actually saw someone?”
    “I guess we’d be accused of more pluck than prudence.”
    “How does the old saying go—‘Pluck makes luck’?”
    Mary Helen pointed to one silky plume growing just above the grade. “It was probably the headlights hitting that.”
    “You could be right. Come on in, old dear, before you freeze,” Eileen said, rubbing her hands together and climbing into the passenger seat.
    After a final look, Sister Mary Helen slipped behind the steering wheel. She carefully rechecked the rear view mirror, then inched along down the driveway.
    The two nuns were silent as they approached the downtown area. From the James Lick Freeway, they could see the dense morning fog beginning to lift. Ahead of them, the large antenna dominating the roof of the Hall of Justice had begun to penetrate the fog.
    “Now, look at that.” Eileen pointed to the lone beam of sunlight reflecting off the antenna’s metal disc. “That has to be a good omen.”
    “I surely hope you’re right.” Mary Helen was thinking about Leonel. Jailed in a strange country, with a strange language—how frightened and despondent the young man must feel.
    After parking their car behind the large, graybuilding, the pair hurried along the walkway. Passing the Coroner’s Office, Mary Helen felt queasy. The coroner! The words “felony” and “penitentiary” jumped into her mind. She wondered when or if the man would notice the slit in his seal on the professor’s door. Through the glass she noticed a hurriedly dressed family huddled on the wooden bench. One older woman, her hair still in curlers, cried softly into a wad of Kleenex. Beside her, Mary Helen could feel Eileen begin to pucker.
    “Those poor, dear people,” she muttered. “I wonder if there is something we can do to help?”
    “Probably not,” Mary Helen said. “Let’s get upstairs and see if we can help poor, dear Leonel.”
    A lanky patrolman in a dark-blue serge uniform held the lobby door open for them.
    “Coming in, Sisters?” he