Mary parked the car as close to the school as she could. Cars were parked two deep in front of it. She had no idea that many parents picked up their children. Then again, this was St Theresa’s, a Catholic school. No school buses. She wondered what the mothers did who worked. She didn’t think St Theresa’s had an after-school program. She shook her head as she made her way through the parked cars and the chattering mothers. They must have quite a car pool system worked out. She pushed the front glass doors open and headed for the office. She hoped Luanne hadn’t forgotten to send a note to the secretary authorizing her to sign out the children. The school would never hand them over to anyone who didn’t have written permission from the parent, no matter how well they knew them.
The school secretary was on the phone. She wiggled her fingers at Mary while she agreed with whatever the caller had said. Mary found a chair, sank into it gratefully and waited.
She didn’t wait long.
‘Mary.’ Sister Margaret Anne poked her head out of her office and waved at Mary. ‘Can you come in for a moment?’
Mary nodded. She’d expected this. ‘Good afternoon, Sister. It’s been a while. Wasn’t it the fundraiser for the new children’s wing at the hospital we helped organize?’
Sister Margaret Anne nodded absently, obviously not interested in what happened since she’d seen Mary last. Her only interest was in what happened today. ‘What’s going on with the Mendosa children?’
She closed the door, walked behind her desk and sat, motioning for Mary to do the same. ‘Luanne called here, her voice practically shaking, saying you’d pick them up and no one, emphasizing no one but you, Mr Mendosa or her was to come near them. Oh. Dan Dunham could. Mary, he’s the chief of police!’
Mary tried to swallow her sigh. She didn’t blame Luanne one bit for being upset, but falling apart wasn’t going to help. However, Sister Margaret Anne needed to know what happened. They needed her to help keep the children safe.
‘It’s about Cliff Mathews. I’m sure you’ve heard.’
Sister Margaret Anne nodded, but she didn’t smile. ‘He was murdered. In the manger scene on St Theresa’s lawn, of all places. What a wicked thing to do.’
She sounded more outraged than scared. That might change, soon.
‘The Mendosa children saw the person who did it.’
Sister Margaret Anne didn’t say a word. She stared at Mary, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide. Finally, she blinked. ‘Good Lord.’
Mary nodded. ‘No one knows this, except whoever killed Cliff. It has to stay that way.’ Mary relayed the events of Wednesday night.
Sister Margaret Anne sat rigid, her clasped hands increasingly tightening. ‘You really think the children might be in danger from this man?’
‘We have no idea. We don’t know who he is. If he thinks they recognized him, well, I can’t say what he might do. We just don’t know.’
Sister Margaret Anne nodded but her hands didn’t relax. ‘You can’t rule out the possibility he might do something here, on the school grounds. Shoot them, perhaps.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ Mary shook her head vigorously. ‘I really don’t think so.’ But she did think he might do something. Wasn’t that why she was here? ‘It’s more likely he’d try to take them – grab them. Or something.’ Her voice got weaker as she wound down.
‘You have no idea what might happen.’ Sorrow and fear were in Sister Margaret Anne’s voice and in her eyes. ‘I’m responsible for all these children. If there is even a remote possibility of danger … I’d better call Chief Dunham.’
Mary wished she’d never opened her mouth, but she’d had to, just as Sister Margaret Anne had to call Dan. That was one phone call he wasn’t going to enjoy.
The bell rang, announcing the end of the school day with enough noise to send shock waves through Mary. Sister Margaret Anne almost seemed not to have heard it. But she had. She got to her feet. ‘I need to help make sure the kids get in the right cars. It’s hard to keep track, and sometimes the older ones don’t tell us when plans change. Come on. I’ll help you find the Mendosa children.’ She paused as they got to the door. ‘Tell Luanne I’ll talk to her this evening.’ She took a step but turned once more, this time with anger in her eyes. ‘This is outrageous. Those innocent children and poor old Cliff.’ She paused and her voice softened. ‘We had a dog at the convent once, a wonderful little dog we found one morning on the front porch. Cliff took care of that dog for years and did it with kindness and patience. Well, until those last few years. He didn’t deserve this, though. And the children! They must be terrified. The police had better catch that man, and fast. This is just too much.’ She wheeled around, her skirt and short veil flying, and left the room.
Mary followed. It didn’t sound like Sister Margaret Anne had any recent memories. If she had, would she be as sympathetic? Probably. She was a kind woman. One thing they could agree on, the police had better catch whoever killed Cliff, and fast. As for the children being terrified, she wasn’t so sure. They’d been pretty scared at first, but now she thought they were beginning to enjoy all the excitement. Which was not a good thing, not a good thing at all.