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she said nothing.
    Caroline continued, “She says she is sure Erma has just forgotten today is Monday and has gone somewhere. She thinks we will all feel foolish for having made such a fuss. But I can tell by the way Lucy’stalking that she’s starting to worry too. Why, we managed a whole conversation without even one pun or one of her atrocious jokes. Now that shows worry, if you ask me!”
    “What do you think we should do?” Mary Helen asked.
    “Lucy said she will try to get in touch with her the first thing in the morning. I am of the opinion that if we haven’t heard anything by tomorrow evening at the latest, we should get together and do something about it.”
    “Maybe we should call somebody this evening,” Mary Helen said, thinking immediately of her friend Kate Murphy. Although Kate was an inspector in Homicide, and so far this was, at most, a missing-person case, she knew Kate would know how to help them find their friend.
    “We have called everyone we can think of. Unless you mean the police department.” Caroline’s voice rose a notch. She was frightened, Mary Helen could tell. No wonder Lucy was playing it down. No good would come of getting everyone upset. They’d all be better able to function intelligently if they kept calm.
    “No, I didn’t mean the police. I meant her relatives or other friends.” Mary Helen fudged a little, hoping the end justified the means.
    “Oh, yes, then we have called everyone we can think of.” Caroline sounded a little calmer. “In my opinion,” she said, “if the woman cannot be located by tomorrow, we should go to her apartment and have a look around. We may stumble across a letter or note or something that will tell us where she is, or at least that she is all right. Are you game to go along, Sister?”
    Game? Mary Helen was absolutely dead set to get involved. She was extremely fond of good old Erma Duran, and she was still curious about that upset she had noticed while they were in New York. What was theproblem she had overheard Erma and Lucy discussing? What would they “work out”? Could there be some connection between that and Erma’s seeming disappearance?
    Get involved? Of course she would! It was the only decent thing to do. Furthermore, it was more than a matter of decency. It was a matter of conscience.

May 8
Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Easter
    On weekday mornings the college began serving breakfast at seven. Even though she had already been to the alumnae office, Mary Helen was one of the first in line. She felt in her jacket pocket for the slip of paper with Erma’s address. She double-checked: The Mission District, 400 block of Sanchez.
    Taking her toast and half a grapefruit into the dining room, Mary Helen searched the tables hoping to spot her friend Eileen. She found her sitting with Sister Cecilia near a set of windows overlooking one of the college’s formal gardens. Outside, the morning was already beautiful. The spring sun was just beginning to touch the row of funnel-shaped petunias that bordered the lawn. A row of sweet alyssum ran behind them, their grayish leaves glistening with drops of early-morning fog. A bed of yellow and gold marigolds circled the marble statue of the Blessed Virgin. Above, the sky was a bright, cloudless blue. All in all, it was a perfect day for an attack of spring fever and a perfect opening for Mary Helen.
    “I feel like playing hooky,” she said, sliding into the chair across from Eileen. “It’s much too nice a day to stay home. We should go somewhere.”
    “We just came back from somewhere.” Eileen eyed Mary Helen’s grapefruit.
    Since she found it nearly impossible to eat grapefruit without squirting those around her, Mary Helen put it aside for later. She wanted nothing to distract Eileen’s attention. Much to her surprise, it was Cecilia’s attention she aroused.
    “You’re absolutely right, Mary Helen.” The president smiled nervously. “It is much too nice a day to stay home.