The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(61)

“I went to my mother superior. She said we should pray for the Father’s soul.”

“That’s it?” Mettner said.

Tracy shook her head. “It wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not for Lettie. I told Lettie I needed some time to figure out what to do, but she decided that wasn’t right. None of us adults were moving fast enough for her. Or maybe she knew that nothing would change—that no one of any importance would believe a couple of kids and a nun. Or even if they did, they wouldn’t care.”

Josie said, “What did she do?”

“Her mother was in charge of cooking for the priests. In charge of all their meals. Lettie used to deliver them to their rooms. Breakfast and dinner at any rate—when she wasn’t in school. That particular priest started getting pretty sick. Couldn’t stay out of the restroom for very long. Certainly not long enough to perform his duties or interfere with any of the altar boys. He started losing weight. Then Lettie wrote to the bishop all on her own, and the bishop and some of his auxiliaries—they were like his assistants—they swarmed on St. Agatha’s like hellfire, trying to shut those children up. They didn’t chastise the priest, just Lettie and Ivan. It so was sad. Colette’s mother nearly lost her job, and Ivan and his mother had to leave town.”

“What was Colette giving the priest?” Josie asked. “Did you ever find out?”

Tracy smiled for the first time since they’d been there. “Castor oil. Lots and lots of it. Not sure how he never figured it out. I know I should have been angry with her, and I did pray for her, but I understood… I understood her helplessness. I was never that brave.”

“But you left the church,” Mettner said softly. “That was brave, especially back then. Not many options for an excommunicated nun, I’m guessing.”

“That’s very true, my dear,” Tracy agreed with a sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it. I worked odd jobs my whole life till I couldn’t work anymore. I barely get by here, but I’ve got enough for this place. I couldn’t stay in the church knowing what that man was doing and knowing that no one was going to stop him.”

“I’m sorry,” Mettner said. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been.”

Josie said, “Did you ever hear from Ivan again?”

Tracy shook her head.

“Do you remember his last name, by any chance?”

“Hmmm,” she said. “I’m not sure. It was a German name. Began with a U. I’d have to think on that.”

Mettner handed her a business card. “If you remember, can you give us a call right away? It’s important.”





Forty-One





“Brave,” Josie said for the fifth time in the car on the way back to the station. “Colette was brave.”

“She was extremely brave. She must have been what? Thirteen?” Mettner said.

“I think she was incredibly brave,” Josie said. “It’s consistent with the woman Noah knew his mother to be and the woman I knew. A good person. Not a serial killer. Not someone who kept terrible secrets.”

“That’s true,” Mettner said.

“Do you think someone who would do something like that for a friend—even a childhood friend—would have multiple extra-marital affairs?” Josie asked.

“Hard to say,” Mettner responded. “People change.”

“Not that much,” Josie said. “I think we’re missing something. She refused to keep the secret when Ivan was being hurt by a priest—even at her own peril, and her mother’s. Her mother could have lost her job from the way it sounded.”

“She was a whistleblower.”

“Right. So why was she keeping secrets about the Pratt brothers?” Josie asked. “She somehow came into possession of something that Samuel Pratt would have had on his person the day he was killed, and the flash drive—well, it’s possible Drew had that on him when he went missing.”

“So you think she definitely knew what happened to them,” Mettner said.

“I don’t know. I’m guessing. My point is that she was keeping secrets. Big secrets. Why keep those secrets when she was so willing before to call out a Catholic priest during a time when that was simply not done?”

“She grew up,” Mettner said. “You’re not so brave after you grow up.”

Josie gave a humorless laugh. “True. But she did get Ivan a job. She cared enough about him to go to her boss and outright ask him to hire the guy.”

Mettner said, “So she had a strong connection to this Ivan person. With the Pratts—you think she was blowing the whistle on something? Or she just knew what really happened to them?”

“I don’t know,” Josie muttered, feeling more frustrated than ever. Exhaustion was catching up with her. She pressed her fingers into her eyelids. “I keep thinking about what Mason Pratt said about Beth—how she believed the simplest and most obvious explanation was the right one.”

“So we’re back to the extra-marital affairs,” Mettner said. “Samuel Pratt, possibly this Ivan.”

Josie slapped both hands on her thighs. “And that doesn’t seem right. I can’t see Colette repeatedly cheating on her husband. But I also can’t see her as some kind of serial killer—or accomplice to one.”