Merry Sister Mary: Three Can Keep A Secret

Prologue

Nuns suck on pickles too.

Or is that not the proper way to begin munching on that sour snack? Some sensual tongue action, a bit of slurping, and finally seeing how far you can swallow that green rod while showing off your talents to the guy standing at the checkout counter.

My sisters sent me to the grocery store for milk and eggs, but butter me up and call me a biscuit, when a handsome guy comes my way, I can't help myself from having a little fun. Perhaps you might have thought, I was no nun, nuns should not be deep throating pickles in a shopping aisle as children nudged their mothers in curious concern, but you would be very wrong. Nuns like everyone else have their own vices and oftentimes a craving for something sour. While my vices may not be the most typical, I always found that to do God's word it sometimes took an atypical approach. And little did I know that this Monday morning, I would become wrapped in a twisted story of a criminal underworld, and all it took was a loud crash, a vinegar infused vegetable to tickle my uvula and echoing words one would never likely hear from a grocery store announcement.

"Clean up in aisle three," announced the disturbed cashier as he stared at me, "by the nun choking on a pickle."

The pale arbitrary lighting from the store's ceiling cast a cool glow upon the mess I had created. Pickle juice, that green potent liquid, puddled on the floor by my feet. Shards of glass and the carnage of cucumber casualties littered the ground as though a whole army of green lumpy soldiers had paid the ultimate price for my mishap. It was horror, it was a waste, it was smelly, it was inappropriate, but it was also part of an ingenious plan.

My sisters had sent me to complete this simple task, but upon spying this handsome clerk, I needed to see for myself what he was selling.

I watched the young man sigh as he heard word from his manager, grab a nearby bucket and mop from a previous spill and walk towards me. He was fit, presented himself well with a trimmed beard and form fitting shirt, but it was the pants, oh those tight pants, that made my dainty hands loose grip of the jar.

"Oh dear," I cooed, turning to the cashier while he scooped the shards of glass into a bin. "I was only going for a light snack when I dropped the darn thing. Can you forgive this silly nun?"

"Sure," said the young man looking rather annoyed. "Whatever you say, lady."

Lady! Lady! My left eye twitched at the word.

"A lady, good sir, is one such female that is gentle and mannered. I am a nun, a sister as you may."

"You ain't no sister I know," he grumbled.

I twisted away for just a moment so he would not see me smile. How dare I deny the truth. God would certainly smite me from heaven and leave no trace as I was dragged body and soul to the most internal depths of my personal hell. No, the boy was correct. I was no sister he knew for I was a sister no one expected. Part time devotee to God and part time sleuth should God need a wingman in places good does not normally shine. Wingman or not, I was on my own for this one, a rabble-rouser, a mischief-maker, a nuisance nun who persistently found trouble, but I protested, only in good faith. As the cashier reached down to gather the pickles, I found my faith, a good view of his tight pants and all the wonders hidden beneath. For whatever goodness I had remaining went suddenly fleeting as I bit my bottom lip in painful ecstasy to the round lumps of luxurious man cans.

"Hmm, God has blessed us so," I whispered and nodded, slipping quickly back into pious character. But before I could observe more, I was interrupted by a woman nearby giggling. I quickly changed tunes and spoke. "Lord, forgive me for my clumsiness and bless this young man in all of his worldly dee–" I paused, "assets."

"Who do you think you're fooling?" chuckled the woman in a tight black suit dress. A large brimmed black hat dipped below her eyes blocking all but the tip of her soft nose and cherry red lips. Lace doilies curled over the hat's brim appearing like snow gathering on a roof. She pushed her shopping cart beside me, making all effort to block my path. "You've gotten too famous around here, Merry Sister Mary, to be so clumsy. People are more likely to pay attention to any and all your mistakes."

"Pray tell. How do you know me?" I asked. The young clerk finished cleaning and returned to his duties at the counter.

"Well you were the top story in the paper twice in the last few months, but I have also had my eye on you for personal reasons of interest."

"I'm afraid, miss, I am taken by the lord."

"Not in a romantic way," snarled the woman, her lips twisting in disgust. "More so, here we stand, two strong women trying to make it in this patriarchal world. A rival, perhaps, or an ally. Depends on where the loyalty falls. But more I say, you are a fascination to me. Imagine myself going about my peaceful day when an unbridled nun with a fear of water and a purveyor of umbrella fashion finds herself dabbling in my affairs, playing in it like some sandbox for children. And somehow to the best laid plans by evil folk, she triumphs. Perhaps God is on her side, or some helpful devil with insidious plans."

"You sound as though you are upset with me," I said, trying to take a peek under the hat. The woman swatted me away. "But I am sure we have never met for me to have offended you so."

"One does not need to meet God to offend him. You of all people should know that. Let's just put it simply." The woman leaned in. The smell of her rose perfume tingled my nose. "You are playing a very dangerous game, Sister Mary, and this city as much as you think you run it, it has always been mine."

"You are threatening a nun," I chuckled. "I promise I pose no harm to you. Have a blessed day, madame." I started to walk away but the woman twisted her cart once more to block me.

"Not so fast. I'm not done talking."

"I am, so please, step aside."

The woman suddenly presented a playing card from her pocket. It was the ace of spades.

"My calling card, sister. You can call me Lady Aces. Consider this a warning to back off on sticking your nose into anymore of my business. Just remember there are four aces in every deck of playing cards. Should you receive all four, you and your nunnery will find no respite in this city. Unlike these religious bastards that would dare not harm a nun, I will not be so kind in disposing of you."

"And what business have I stepped in to cause you such upset?"

"Hmm, you're intuitive enough to have that figured out by now. I'm certain you know that in every crime there is always a deeper layer that often goes amiss. The police here were idiots until you showed your face. Do not cross me again." She scoffed at the pickle still in my hand. "Speaking of which. Men are like pickles. They are sour fools that float in a piss party of their own making. They become soft and leave a bad taste in your mouth. Women like us are not as foolish. Don't be a fool, Sister Mary."

With a clack of her black heels, Lady Aces walked away. Her empty shopping cart was left abandoned as she exited the grocery store. I instantly began to regret my thoughts of ladies being gentle and mannered. This one, while rude, intrigued me so. Whatever could I have done to lead to her dissatisfaction. I turned to the cashier nearby. He had overheard the recent conversation because the look on his face had changed from annoyance to fear and confusion. It's not everyday you hear one threaten a nun. I shrugged, lifted my umbrella, and pointed it to the shelf of pickle jars.

"I'm sorry for the mess, young man, but would you be so kind and ring me up one of those? I'd like to purchase a jar of your most delicious men, please."

As I exited the grocery store and made my way to the bus stop, I couldn't shake the threat from my mind. Never had I considered that being a nun and solving murders for fun would bring a person like Lady Aces into my life. I couldn't have predicted it then, but I was about to be wrapped up in another mystery, and this one would get me another ace in my hand. And where a handful of aces normally wins the game, this one was a sure loss.