Merry Sister Mary: Two Can Play That Game

9: Sister Mary and the High Stakes of Murder

In all my attempts to reach Jacqueline and question her more about her suspected murderer, I was constantly interrupted by party goers. They either wanted to thank me for my heroic effort of dislodging that diabolical tomato or introduce themselves to the miraculous abolisher of wicked fruits. Yes, a tomato is a fruit but that does not mean it belongs in a fruit salad. Needless to say, I had become the VIP of the night and as the band played a number for me and drinks were passed around in my honor, the topic of everyone's conversation was an utmost lie. The more people spoke amongst themselves the more doubtful they became that I was Ms. Brackens, the lesbian of legend.

"I don't remember Ms. Brackens to be so big," said one party goer as I slipped past.

"Perhaps the costume adds a few pounds," responded another.

It took all the strength in me from whacking the two gossipers with my umbrella. So instead I decided on a more gentler approach. Pretending to have forgotten something I twisted back around and as I passed the two I made sure to bump them with my obscenely humongous hips. Their drinks splashed on their shirts.

Before they could say another word, I tiptoed away from the prying eyes and around to the front veranda where Sophia sat brooding in one of the rockers.

"Sophia," I whispered, watching her slump tiredly, "I think these people are on to our little charade."

"Mary, I feel dizzy."

I placed my hand on Sophia's forehead. "No fever." I spied two empty glasses by her feet. "You're drunk," I exclaimed. "Did I not warn you to stop? Jesus! And here I thought I would be the problem."

"I don't feel so good. Hold me?" Sophia reached for me but I shoved her back into the chair. I jabbed a pillow behind her head and dumped a flower pot over the rail.

"Here," I said giving her the pot. "Hold this close in case you need to purge some demons."

I heard a scuffling sound come inside the house and suddenly Jenny appeared in the doorway. She saw me hovering over Sophia with the flower pot wrapped in her arms.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?"

"Ah, young Ms. Jenny Wickman," I said rising up. "No, not at all. It just seems my sister here has trouble holding her alcohol."

"My is she going to be alright? She doesn't look well."

"The lord is with her," I said. "Rest assured. All good things come to those with God in their hearts."

"Mary," struggled Sophia. "I think I need to see a doctor."

"Hush now and vomit," I quickly stated. "You will feel much better."

"Sister Mary," said Jenny pulling at my arm, "I need to speak with you privately."

"Whatever for?"

Jenny glanced over her shoulder and through the windows of the house.

"It's no longer safe for you here. You need to leave."

"But I haven't finished what was asked of me. I admit there are many people who wish your stepmother harm, but none I yet suspect would go so far as to murder her. I'm too invested to back down now."

"You don't understand," said Jenny nervously. "Things here are not as they seem. It was a mistake inviting you. They know. They will hurt me."

"What are you not telling me, child? Who will hurt you?"

"I can't tell you." The young woman brushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes. "I've done something horrible, unspeakable." My hand brushed across her wrist. I was surprised to see makeup smear away revealing a bruise.