Sisters of the Last Straw: #1 The Case of the Haunted Chapel Read online

  SISTERS

  of the

  LAST STRAW

  The Case of the Haunted Chapel

  The two nuns stared open-eyed at each other.

  “Did you hear that?” whispered Sister Lovely, as both nuns turned toward the altar.

  “There’s no one there! It has to be ghosts!” cried Sister Lovely.

  “Ohhhhh…galloping goosebumps!” shouted Sister Lacey as she rose in fright.

  Karen Kelly Boyce

  SISTERS

  of the

  LAST

  STRAW

  The Case of the

  Haunted Chapel

  TAN Books

  Charlotte, North Carolina

  Dedicated to

  Mr. Conner Michael Ditchik, my grandson—

  Always find the good in others

  and overlook their faults.

  With special thanks and great love

  for my friends who inspired this story—

  Lauren, Linda, Mary Jean, and Sue.

  One who has such friends is never alone.

  Text Copyright © 2011 by Karen Kelly Boyce

  Cover art copyright © by Sue Anderson Gioulis

  Cover and interior illustrations copyright © by Sue Anderson Gioulis

  Book design by Regina Doman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  Summary: When a new order of Sisters moves into an old convent, mysterious mishaps make them suspect their chapel is haunted.

  ISBN: 978-1-5051-1184-2

  TAN Books

  P.O. Box 410487

  Charlotte, NC 28241

  www.TANBooks.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  In a Big Jam

  Goats on the Run

  Sheer Genius

  Up in Smoke

  Strange Visitors

  Secret Passages

  Hidden Housemates

  Continuing Capers

  Chapter 1

  In a Big Jam

  Mother Mercy wrinkled her nose. It smells like smoke, she thought. Rising from the chair behind her large desk, she hurried to the door. Pulling open the door, she backed up as a cloud of fumes billowed into the office. She coughed on the thick smoke and her eyes filled with tears. Mother heard the footsteps of the other nuns who shared the house as they scurried toward the source of the smoke. It was pouring out of the back kitchen.

  Since Mother Mercy was short and chubby, she found herself behind the rest of the nuns. Sister Lacey, petite and quick, was the first to reach the kitchen.

  “I’ll be a son of a…a…a…” looking toward Mother, she quickly caught herself, “…sea cook!” she exclaimed.

  Sister Lovely, who entered the kitchen right behind Sister Lacey, was the quick-thinking one. She grabbed the fire extinguisher that was on the inner wall of the large kitchen. Pulling the pin, the tall nun aimed the hose and sent a gush of foam toward the fire on the antique stove.

  As the fire was put out, the Sisters could see the huge canning pot glowing orange with the heat of the now-extinguished flames. Sister Shiny bravely reached over the pot and turned off the stove.

  Just as she withdrew her arm, the pot began to shake and vibrate. The nuns all backed away from the pot as the rumbling grew louder. The jars in the burnt-dry pot began to explode.

  “Run!” Mother Mercy shouted as all the sisters ran out of the kitchen and back into the hall. POP…POP!

  The popping sounds of the jars in the pot grew louder and were followed by the sounds BANG…SPLAT! The little glass jars hit the walls and broke, the jam oozing down the walls. Sister Shiny covered her eyes with her hands, unable to look at the walls of the formerly-spotless kitchen.

  Mother Mercy’s round eyes widened as jar after jar exploded and released first blueberry, then strawberry, and finally mint jam.

  “How many jars are there?!?” exclaimed Sister Shiny as the large ‘pops’ continued to explode.

  “The better question would be—where is Sister Krumbles?” shouted Mother, her face hardened in an angry frown.

  As if by magic, Sister Krumbles appeared at the screen door which led to the backyard. Covered in dust, with her veil hanging off-center, she carried a dirt-caked shovel. The last jar of mint jam exploded onto the kitchen ceiling. Just as Sister Krumbles entered the kitchen, a large glop of green landed on top of her veil.

  Her mouth opened in surprise as she took in the sight of the kitchen with jams flowing off the walls and ceiling. A sheepish look of guilt spread over the heavy nun’s face as her blue eyes surveyed the scene which she had clearly created.

  “Oh, no!” she exclaimed, “I forgot about the jams!”

  The Sisters had planned making the jams for months. They wanted to sell the jams in their gift shop, which they were opening in the front room, just across from the new chapel. When visitors came, the Sisters hoped they would be attracted to the shop and purchase some of the rosaries and jams that the Sisters made. The sales would help fund some of the good works the Sisters planned.

  The jam was Sister Lacey’s idea. At one meeting of the small community of nuns, she had suggested that the Sisters make small fruit preserves with unique names like St. Blaise Blueberry, or Mother Mary Mint.

  The Sisters had enjoyed coming up with distinctive names for each flavor. Sister Lovely had volunteered to make pretty labels for each jar on the computer. Sister Shiny had offered to find colorful ribbons to tie around the tops of the little jars. All the Sisters had agreed that it was an inspired idea.

  Sister Krumbles had been so excited about it that she had decided to make the preserves herself. After all, she had grown up on a farm and had lots of experience with canning.

  The superior of the convent, Mother Mercy, had come away from the meeting filled with a feeling of optimism. Now, the sight of the jams sliding down the walls of the smoke-choked kitchen filled her with feelings of anger.

  The bewildered look on Sister Krumbles’ face only made the Mother Superior angrier. Sister Shiny saw how red their superior’s face had become and decided to escape the coming temper tantrum.

  “I’ll just run up to the cleaning closet and get our supplies and gloves. It will take a lot of elbow grease to get this kitchen clean,” she announced. In her spotless habit, she ran up the sweeping hallway stairs which led to the second story of the mansion.

  The second story had ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms. It contained numerous deep closets, one of which held the linens and the cleaning supplies. Sister Shiny ran so fast that she almost slipped on the polished wooden floor. She had seen Mother lose her temper once before!

  Small white-haired Sister Lacey walked into the kitchen. She was dismayed to see Mother’s face go from red to a deep purple color as she seemed to expand, filling her habit. The Mother Superior looked as if she were about to explode like the jars of jam.

  Sister Lacey wisely decided it would be better to not speak to her. But when she looked around the kitchen, she yelled in dismay.

  “Holy…J…J…Jumping Jam!” shouted the older nun. “I’ve never seen such a…miserable mess!”

  Jam was dripping down the walls and cabinets. Green mint jam was dripping from the ceiling. Sister Lacey thought she could distract the Superior from poor Sister Krumbles by the task of cleaning up the kitchen. “Mother Superior, how should we clean this up?”

  It didn’t seem to work. Mother Mercy just stared at Sister Krumbles, who stood frozen and frightened in front of the screen door.


  Sister Lacey used pot holders to remove the hot canning pot from the jelly-covered stove and set it in the sink. “Why, Marvelous Miracles! It looks like the pot is fine! Not ruined at all!” she exclaimed nervously.

  The angry nun ignored the comments. In a loud voice she shouted at Sister Krumbles, “How could you forget about the jam?!? It was your only job today!”

  Sister Krumbles hung her head. “I put all the jam in the jars and I put the tops on to seal. I carefully placed the jars in the boiling pot to seal the jars. I don’t know what went wrong. I went out to build the pen for the goats and… well, I just forgot!”

  The pretty Sister Lovely quickly walked across the room and put her arm around the distraught and dusty nun.

  “Come on upstairs with me and I’ll help you clean up,” Sister Lovely said in a kind voice.

  “Oh, what’s the point of cleaning her up now, I’d like to know?” shouted Mother Mercy, even though she was calming down. “She might as well stay and help clean this kitchen. She can’t get much dirtier than she already is!”

  As if to put an end to the argument, Sister Shiny appeared with aprons, gloves, and cleaning buckets. The nuns quickly began to work. Sister Lacey scrubbed the pot, and carefully picked up all the broken glass from the jam jars.

  Sister Lovely, being the tallest, took a mop and cleaned off the ceiling. Sister Krumbles wiped down the cabinets, while Sister Shiny scrubbed the walls. Mother Mercy worked the anger out of her system by washing the messiest parts of the kitchen floor all by herself.

  Her temper had almost gotten the better of her. Mother never knew how to control it. Her temper and disobedience had gotten her dismissed from two orders already. She had given up hope of becoming a nun. That was, until her aunt decided to move to Europe.

  In a generous moment, her aunt had given this mansion to Mother Mercy. She knew her niece needed a place to go. She and her friend Sister Krumbles had just been dismissed from their second religious order for bad habits. Sister Krumbles and Mother Mercy had grown up in the same town. They had been friends since they were children. and had always dreamed of becoming nuns.

  Mother Mercy had been told she was too disobedient and bad-tempered to be a good nun. Sister Krumbles—well, she had been refused final vows just because of her accidents and forgetfulness. Both of the women had moved into the mansion and prayed every night in the house’s chapel. Depressed, they had almost given up hope of finding an order of nuns that would accept them.

  One night, during prayer, Sister Krumbles had an inspiration. Why not start their own order? Mother Mercy thought it was a great idea. She decided to make herself the Mother Superior of the new order. If I am in charge of everything, I won’t lose my temper! she thought

  They applied to the Bishop for permission. They had wanted to call themselves the Sisters of the Rose. Their Bishop hadn’t refused them, but when he reviewed their history, he had jokingly changed the name of the order to the Sisters of the Last Straw.

  He had sent them other sisters who had been dismissed from established orders for bad personal habits. The Bishop seemed to find the whole idea funny.

  It took the group of nuns a whole hour, but they worked hard and the kitchen sparkled. It was cleaner, if possible, than before the jam explosion.

  The Sisters were happy that Mother Mercy now seemed calm and pleased. But as she looked at her fellow nuns who stood proudly admiring their work, she started to laugh. The other sisters were confused. Why was Mother laughing at them? But when they looked at one another, the nuns all started laughing.

  Sister Lacey and Sister Lovely held mops and scrub brushes and only had little smears of jam on their aprons and shoes. Sister Shiny, with her yellow rubber gloves and crisp white apron, didn’t have a single spot on her.

  Standing right next to her was poor Sister Krumbles. She had forgotten to put on her apron, and was covered from head to toe with dirt and jam. Her black-and-white habit was now brown, green, blue, and red and her veil was hanging off to one side.

  All the nuns started to laugh, but Mother Mercy laughed so hard that she started to cry.

  Sister Krumbles was so relieved to see her best friend laugh that she went towards Sister Mercy to hug her. But as she started to walk, her foot slipped on the wet floor and she landed with a crash right on her bum.

  “Oh…Mother of a Merciful Mess!” exclaimed Sister Lacey. With that, all the nuns were reduced to laughter and tears.

  When she caught her breath, Mother Mercy helped Sister Krumbles to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I need to ask your forgiveness, Sister. During evening prayers, I will ask Jesus to forgive me for losing my temper.”

  Sister Krumbles smiled, “I will ask Jesus to help me pay more attention to my work.”

  Sister Lacey happily volunteered to start dinner, while Sister Lovely accompanied Sister Krumbles upstairs to clean up. Sister Shiny collected all the mops and buckets to put them away.

  Mother Mercy started down the hall in a much better mood, with a smile on her face. But halfway down the hall, Mother Mercy stopped. The smile froze on her face. As she stood as still as a statue, she asked aloud to the now-empty hall, “Building a pen for…goats? What goats?”

  Chapter 2

  Goats on the Run

  All the Sisters of the Last Straw were up before the sun. Daylight appeared as the nuns were in their little chapel praying their morning prayers.

  Each morning they would praise God and give honor to the Name of Jesus. They would ask protection for themselves, their home, and the people nearby. They would pray for safe weather and the safety of all the people of Spring Creek Township.

  Last night there had been some heavy rains and some very noisy thunderstorms. The lightning strikes and booming sounds of thunder had awoken a few of the nuns. This day looked to be a beautiful and sunny day in spite of the wet ground.

  The Sisters would pray for an hour before they headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

  Sister Shiny made the breakfast and set the table perfectly while the other sisters prayed. Everything had to be perfect and beautiful for Sister Shiny to be happy.

  Although she tried not to, Sister Shiny couldn’t help noticing her own reflection in the mirror-like spoons. She looked beautiful. She had been asked to leave the last convent she had joined because she spent so much time looking at herself in the mirror. She just couldn’t help herself. She looked so good!

  When the other Sisters came out of the chapel, they shared a light breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and oatmeal. They were all anxious to go outside to see the little goats.

  Sister Krumbles led the way, out the back door to the left-hand corner of the three-acre property. As her Sisters followed her, the excited nun explained where the goats had come from.

  “Mr. Murphy gave them to us! He stopped by yesterday with five little goats that he gave us for a housewarming present. They are Nigerian dwarf goats. They come in all different colors, give a good amount of milk each day, and we can make soap and cheese from the milk they give!”

  Walking over the rise of a small grassy hill, Sister Krumbles excitedly turned towards the other nuns as she pointed to the little pen she had built the day before, “There they are! Aren’t they the cutest things?”

  Sister Krumbles was surprised by the blank stare on the other nuns’ faces. “What’s wrong?”

  “There is only one goat in that pen,” Mother Mercy said.

  Sister Krumbles turned to see that part of the fence of the little pen was broken. Only one goat was left in the pen!

  “The goats have escaped!” Sister Krumbles shouted as she ran down the little hill to the pen, “How did this happen?”

  All the other nuns exchanged knowing glances as they quickly followed Sister Krumbles.

  As the sisters reached the pen, the last little goat jumped over the broken part of the fence, and ran to the heavily-wooded corner of the neighbor’s property. All the nuns picked up their long skirts and chased
after the goat.

  “That goat’s name is Midnight,” shouted Sister Krumbles as the crowd of nuns gave chase to the solid-black goat.

  The more the nuns chased Midnight, the faster Midnight ran. As they were running through the woods after the little black goat, Sister Lacey spotted another goat with a multi-colored coat chewing on the neighbor’s ornamental shrubbery.

  “What’s this one’s name?” Sister Lacey shouted as she ran toward the goat.

  “Oh…Oh! That one is Crayons.” The reddened Sister Krumbles was so out of breath from chasing after Midnight that she could barely answer.

  Sister Lacey slowed down. Crayons was so busy eating the needles of the decorative pine in Mr. Lemon’s backyard, that she didn’t seem to notice the little white-haired nun tiptoeing toward her. Sister Lacey stopped and reached out to grab the goat around the neck. Crayons took off. Sister Lacey lost her balance, and fell face-first onto the muddy ground.

  “Oh…son of a…grievious galloping goat!” she yelled in anger. Her face and the entire front of her habit were covered in a wet, oozy brown mud. As she lifted herself out of the dripping mess, she watched helplessly as Crayons headed in the other direction.

  Crayons ran through the lovely flowerbeds. The colorful goat struggled as her hooves kept getting caught in the deep mud. As she struggled, she tore up the newly planted flowers, leaving a muddy mess. She continued running across Mr. Lemon’s manicured lawn toward the other goats which the Sisters could see eating Mr. Lemon’s favorite rosebushes.

  As all the Sisters gathered on one side of the lawn, the four of the little goats happily gnawed away at the prize-winning roses that their rich neighbor raised.

  “Let’s get them!” Sister Lacey yelled angrily as she tried to wipe the mud from her face.

  As the nuns started to run, Mother Mercy stopped them, “Hold on! We can’t outrun those goats! Let’s use the brains that God gave us!”

  “What do you mean?” Sister Shiny asked.