Read Online A Perfect Grave by Rick Mofina - Free Book Online

the cards for us.”
    While serving together, the two nuns had confronted more horror than most people would face in a thousand lifetimes.
    Watching her now, Grace knew that nothing had prepared Sister Vivian for seeing her friend on that table, in that cold antiseptic room, with her throat slashed. Sister Vivian was struggling to reconcile her memories with the face she’d identified only moments ago.
    Under the hum of florescent lights, Grace, Perelli, and Sister Ruth Hurley, a resident in the town house where Sister Ann was murdered, watched patiently as Sister Vivian composed herself before replacing her glasses and returning to the documents.
    As she poised her fountain pen over the signature line, Grace noticed Sister Vivian’s hand quiver before the pen scratched across the paper, followed by the snap of a page, then another signature before the ME staffer gathered the papers into a white legal-sized folder.
    “Thank you, Sister,” said the staffer wearing a lab coat. “Please accept our condolences. We’ll contact you about releasing her to you through the funeral home. It should be later today.”
    “And her personal items?” Sister Ruth said. “Her clothes and her things?”
    “Yes,” Grace cleared her throat. “Those items have been collected by our forensic people. They’ll work on them and hold them as evidence.”
    “I see.”
    “I think we’re finished here, Sisters,” Grace said. “There’s another room, where we can talk, privately.”
    Grace guessed Sister Vivian at being close to six feet tall. Her neat white hair glowed against her dark skirt suit, a well-fitting simple design. She had the bearing of a ball-busting corporate CEO, Grace thought, catching the silver flash of the cross hanging from her neck when she sat at the large table in the empty conference room. Next to her, Sister Ruth, in her plain print jacket and black skirt, had the less imposing presence of a grade-school teacher quick to confiscate gum.
    “We understand you brought Sister Anne’s personal files from the town house and the Mother House in Chicago,” Grace said. “Do they list her family?”
    “No.” Sister Vivian snapped open her valise. “We were her family.” She slid two slim folders to Grace, who looked them over quickly, made a few notes in her case log, then passed them to Perelli.
    “Do you have any suspects, Detective?” Sister Ruth asked.
    “No,” Grace said, “we’ve got other detectives canvassing the shelter, her route traveled from there to the town house and the neighborhood. And we’re working on potential physical evidence.”
    The nuns nodded.
    “Is there anyone Sister Anne may have had contact with who may have wanted to harm her?” Grace asked.
    “I am not aware of anyone,” Sister Vivian said “Are you, Ruth?”
    “Everyone loved Anne.”
    “What about the people she helped at the shelter?” Grace asked. “We understand most of them have addictions, substance problems, many have criminal records. We’re checking those we know, but does anything stand out? Altercations, threats, anything?”
    “No, and this is what I cannot fathom,” Sister Vivian said. “These are people she helped. She shouldered the burden of their trouble, so why would anyone want to harm her?”
    “What about in the neighborhood?” Perelli said. “Anything out of the ordinary recently?”
    Sister Ruth shook her head.
    “She also helped women in abusive relationships,” Perelli said. “Maybe a vengeful spouse or ex-partner thought Sister Anne turned his woman against him?”
    “That’s possible,” Sister Ruth said. “We have encountered people with violent personalities or anger issues, but no one comes to mind.”
    “Sisters,” Grace made a note, “we’d like you to volunteer all of the order’s records on the people you’ve helped—names of abused women, ex-convicts, parolees, everyone you have on file for any reason. Staff lists, too. All of Sister Anne’s case files, if she