Free Lovely, Dark, and Deep by Julia Buckley

called.
    “Nothing,” Jack called. I heard murmurings that turned to whispers, and suddenly they were playing something different.
    “Okay,” I said, opening a packet of cocoa and putting the powder in the dark blue mug I'd chosen. I was starting to feel paranoid. Maybe people really did conspire when one's back was turned. Maybe one really did have to suspect nuns and priests of murdering one another. Maybe murderers really called reporters on the phone and whispered warnings. And maybe Sister Joanna, young martyr of Webley, hadn't been killed in a random hit and run.
    I delivered Juan's beverage to him, then returned to the kitchen and hauled out my yellow pages. I looked up the number for the Yardleys—Sister Joanna's parents—and found that they still lived in Mosston. I jotted down their number and address, then saw that Yardley, Jeremy, was listed separately, with a Webley address. I wrote down Jeremy's number as well, then took the slip of paper into my room. “I'm making some phone calls,” I told Jack, who still looked mysterious. Juan sipped his cocoa with a virtuous expression, so I knew something was going on. I shrugged, then ensconced myself in the bedroom. First I dialed Gerhard, I admit, with the intention of forcing him to tell me the truth about the love ad in the paper. There was no answer. I turned back to business, and dialed again, hoping to make appointments with a dead nun's family.
    Chapter Five
    The last day of January dawned with milk-pale sunbeams. I looked out the window to find that the world had frozen overnight. The parking lot had a sheen of ice, and Mr. Altschul was out with his salt bag, sprinkling here and there like some wintry sandman, while the man he paid to plow the parking lot was driving and reversing, making a scraping sound, shaving off bits of ice in an ineffectual manner.
    “Might be hard to get out today,” I said to Jack, who was humming something familiar as he tied his tie.
    “No problem. I'll walk,” he said. Jack was this great outdoorsman who loved the challenges of every season. Sometimes I really wondered how we ended up together. He moved into the hallway and started digging in the closet for his good boots, the ones with traction so amazing he could probably walk up the side of a glacier with confidence. Jack had great equipment, I mused, as I stood in the doorway and watched his backside wiggle while he dug through the mess of shoes, boots, and appliances.
    “Here we are!” he yelled triumphantly, holding up the gargantuan specimens with a joyful smile. I had to go over and kiss him; he looked so cute.
    He returned my kiss in his warm way, and I was starting to wish we both had the day off. Jack finally pulled away, pointed regretfully at his watch, and asked, “Are you going to change out of your pajamas at some point?”
    I'd forgotten I was still wearing them. They were blue flannel separates with little penguins all over. I was also wearing a pair of thick blue socks, since Jack had once informed me that I had the coldest feet in North America. “Yes, of course,” I said haughtily. “In fact, I need to get into the shower, so you'd best be off. I just hope Mr. Altschul makes some progress on that lot in the meantime, or I'll have to walk, too, and I don't relish the thought.”
    “I don't either,” Jack said. “Not while goofballs are making vague threats to you over the phone.” I'd told Jack about the whisperer the night before, and he, too, had asked if I might be willing to give up the Joanna investigation. One look from me had ended that line of thought.
    “I know what you mean, but I just meant that I'm lazy,” I said. “And I'll be very careful.”
    While Jack's place of employment, Webley High School, was a mere eight blocks away, the newspaper office was two and a half miles. I didn't have boots like Jack's, or a huge love of extreme temperatures, and I tended to walk slowly, especially on ice. I'd be lucky if I made it in by