Maggie saw the force of Nature that was Mary Pendleton skirting energetically through the halls of Sacred Heart. She was striding somewhere in her lively way to deliver the short stack of files which she had cradled like a baby in her left arm. She passed a priest and cheerily updated him about how well someone named James was doing in his program. She told two kids to stop climbing all over the banister, and then assaulted them with kisses as she passed. She was a visiting comet, flashing through the orbits of all the good citizens of Sacred Heart, spreading spark and brilliance in her wake. Maggie jogged to catch her. “Mary,” she called out, “Mary, have you got a minute?”
The counselor seemed genuinely delighted to see the detective, “Well Detective Kennedy! Bless my boots. How in the world are you?” And although it was only their second meeting, Mary actually hugged Maggie, and not one of those lean-in-arm-around-the-neck jobs either. It was a full on mashing-of-the-breasts type embrace that made Maggie feel at once very loved and very awkward. “Walk with me, babe. Places to go, people to see!” Mary was about to launch off again, but Maggie caught her by the elbow. “Mary, we’ve found another body.”
“What?! No,” Mary seemed almost more stunned than saddened as she was before. “That just doesn’t make sense, Maggie. Not at all. I just . . . I can’t believe it. I guess that I had just hoped – I really believed that it was over – in my heart-of-hearts.” Mary was visibly distressed. She seemed puzzled. “Oh boy. It wasn’t one of ours, was it? Of course it was. That’s why you’re here. Oh man! Why do you never have good news? I know, don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Well, yes and no. Right now we’re not sure who the victim is. But she was again wearing a baptismal gown, from Sacred Heart.”
“Really?” Mary shook her head. “So what do you want from me? I’m not sure how I can help exactly, but anything I can do, of course.”
“Well, I have some more photos for you to look at. But what’s more important, Mary,” she pulled the counselor aside, “I would like to join one of the groups here, on the down-low. I want to embed, become part of your community. But I don’t want anyone to know that I am an officer of the law.”
“Aah, I see. That makes sense.” Mary scratched her wild hair with a pencil. “Let’s walk, Maggie.” She led the way down the hall, with one hand floating almost weightlessly on Maggie’s elbow. Maggie supposed that it might very well be impossible for Mary to have a conversation without some form of actual physical contact, such was the affection of her nature. “I see, so you’re asking me to be your sponsor.”
The thought had not occurred to Maggie. “Well, no. I mean, do I really need a sponsor? This is actually a charade, after all.”
“Oh you’re definitely going to need a sponsor. This is the way; so let it be written, so let it be done,” Mary made the sign of the cross; even in her dour state, she had enough reserve to take a stab at a joke. “Everyone has a sponsor, Maggie. If you didn’t have one it would be weird, and well, it just wouldn’t work.”
The cleverness and convenience of the idea began to reveal itself to Maggie, “Actually, that would be perfect. You already know my identity, and with you as my sponsor, I won’t have to get all entangled with maintaining some fiction with a stranger. But, wait a minute, can you do that? How does that work? Doesn’t a sponsor need to be someone in the program with me?”
“Oh, it’ll be fine. Executive privilege and all that. There’s no real ‘sponsor police’ anyway. Folks just have to buy it. And after all, I am sort of the grande dame around here, so I it’ll be totally fine.”
“But don’t you need to be recovered, or a graduate or whatever?”
Mary guffawed and rolled her eyes at Maggie, “Detective Kennedy, you both flatter and disappoint me. You think I got this job because of my good looks? I am good lookin’, but that weren’t it, sweet-cakes. I can’t really help you if you’re looking to go Overeaters or Gamblers, but pretty much any of the other programs – go crazy.”
Detective Kennedy was very pleased. How nice it is, she thought, when things from time to time just fall in to place. Mary could give her inside access, help her get the lay of the land. And besides all that, Detective Kennedy just genuinely liked Mary Pendleton.
“Please Mary,” she reached out and touched the counselor’s arm, “call me Maggie.”
Across the courtyard, not 300 feet away, at that same moment, Kris Whitlow knocked on the office door of Paul Gomez.
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