stepped inside. That was a funny comment coming from Tyler, whose bedroom smelled like a skunkâs butt. Even though Iâd never smelled a skunkâs butt, I imagined it was pretty disgusting. I usually stayed as far away from Tylerâs room as possible.
The Sisters of Mercy hallway was lined on both sides with old people in wheelchairs. Some were asleep, others were tapping their feet to music that streamed out of an open door. The sign on the door read, Sing-along with Betty . I peeked inside.The room was super crowded. Warbly voices sang a Frank Sinatra song called âThat Old Black Magic.â I recognized it because my mom is a big Frank Sinatra fan. I assumed Betty was the woman at the piano, leading the sing-along.
âEveryone in here looks like theyâre about to croak,â Tyler said. He hadnât even bothered to whisper.
âThatâs mean,â I told him. âOne day youâre gonna be old.â
âI donât think so.â A bunch of pastry crumbs had gotten caught in his stubble. âIâm going to grow clones and transplant my brain as soon as my body starts to wear out.â He was serious.
âDo you see Juniper?â Ethan asked, peering over my shoulder.
âNo.â I scanned again, just to make sure there were no long white braids or red bandanas in the crowd. âSheâs not in here. Letâs ask someone.â The reception desk was across the way. A sign read, Visitor Check-In .
Even though Tyler was the oldest, Iâm the one who marched up to the counter. I wanted to do the talking because Ethan was a terrible liar and because Tyler was . . . well, Tyler.
âHello,â I said. âWeâre here to see someone.â The lady behind the counter was dressed in a plain white blouse and black skirt. Her name tag read, Sister Beatrice .
âHello.â Before she said another word, her phone rang. âExcuse me for a moment.â
I tapped my fingers on the counter as she answered the phone. She forwarded the call to someone else, then got distracted by two police officers who walked down the hall and stopped next to me.
âWe just finished checking on Jane Doe, so weâre headinâ back to the station house now,â the tall one told Sister Beatrice. âWeâve got a bit of paperwork to write up.â
The other officer, a woman with a mole on her cheek, leaned on the counter. âIf someone comes to identify her, give us a call. We donât want anyone talking to her unless thereâs an officer present.â
I looked over at Tyler and Ethan. Theyâd both heard the comment. How were we supposed to talk about the urn if there was a police officer in Juniperâs room?
âWhy?â Sister Beatrice asked. âIs she in trouble?â
The female officer answered. âIt appears thatsheâd been tampering with the museumâs security system just before she had her stroke. The only reason to tamper with a security system is to steal something. The museum might press charges against her. We want to monitor all her conversations, for evidence.â
The other officer handed a card to Sister Beatrice. âCall us immediately if anyone comes in to see her.â Then he frowned. âWhatâs her prognosis? Is she gonna make it?â
âHer condition is not terminal,â the sister replied. âBut her memory is damaged. It will take time for her to recover.â The officers said good-bye, then headed out the front door.
Of course she wasnât going to die. This whole thing was a big act so she could have a place to hide out.
âSorry for the interruption,â Sister Beatrice said to me. She set the card next to the phone. âWho are you visiting today?â
I glanced at the card. If I said Iâd come to see Jane Doe, the police would come back. So I quickly scanned the files that were spread across the desk. One of the names caught my
Juliet E. McKenna
Charity Ayres
Ruth Thomas
Ron Roy
Greil Marcus
Marysol James
Delia Parr
Maile Meloy
Damage Control
Brian Ruckley