“His company, I think, is in Denver. Maybe you could stay in hiding and let people he trusts continue to run things on your behalf.”
She shook her head. “That business means something to him, not to me. I have my own life to live, Sister. Angie Sanchez died. I’m Terri now, two hundred pounds and all, and I have a new way of looking at things. I have to take care of good old number one. If I take this risk and come out into the open, I want cash, not headaches.”
The lack of emotion behind Terri’s words and her simple, matter-of-fact tone was like a cold wintry blast. She’d heard people Terri’s age referred to as part of the “Me Generation” and at least in this case, the label seemed to fit.
“You disapprove of me, Sister Agatha?” she asked softly.
“I think that your world is a lot colder than the one I left behind when I became a nun.”
12
SISTER AGATHA FINISHED HELPING SISTER CLOTHILDE clean up in the kitchen after their main meal of the day. It was nearly two now. Sister Agatha stopped by the scriptorium to check on things once more before heading into town, and found Sister Ignatius sitting in front of one of the computers. Surprised, she went up to her. “Is everything all right here? Where’s Sister de Lourdes?”
“She’s been running back and forth between here and the parlor. Sister Bernarda has been working on the outlets, and we’ve had several visitors, mostly workmen with questions concerning the gate and wall repairs. Since I’d finished mopping, I offered to come into the scriptorium and help. My job is to print out each order and update the report for NexCen so they’ll be able to track which products are selling. I can handle that just fine. But we’ve also received some odd correspondence,” she said, pointing. “I’m not at all sure what to do with those.”
She groaned. “Not Wilder again.” “Yes, that’s his name.”
Sister Agatha picked up the two e-mails Sister Ignatius had printed and set aside. The first one read:
LOOK BEHIND YOU ’CAUSE I’LL BE THERE!
Along with Wilder’s computer-generated signature at the bottom was a crude stick figure looking over a wall. The graphic was repeated in the other e-mail as well. On the second letter, Wilder had waxed poetic.
ROSES ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE.
WILDER’S AT WAR
AND COMING FOR YOU.
Sister Agatha stared at that last post. She had a bad feeling about this not-so-veiled threat. “Have you had any computer problems since you took over today?”
“No, but all I basically do is hit ‘print’ and keep a running count of the merchandise that’ll have to be shipped out. After Sister de Lourdes returns from the parlor, Sister Eugenia, Sister Gertrude, and I will package up the orders, stick on the address labels, then get them ready to ship.”
Sister de Lourdes came in just then, portable phone in hand. Her face was reddened and she looked out of breath. “I’m sorry I stayed away so long, Sister Ignatius.” Seeing Sister Agatha, she added, “Is everything okay?”
Sister Agatha and Sister Ignatius nodded. “We’re fine,” Sister Ignatius answered for both of them.
“Catch your breath, Your Charity,” Sister Agatha said. “I know it’s been difficult handling both posts today. Why don’t I postpone my visit into town and give you a break?”
“No, please don’t. You have other important work to do for our monastery,” Sister de Lourdes said. “Sister Bernarda will be taking over portress duty in another half hour and that’ll help. She’s making great progress with the wiring, but she doesn’t want to do much more until Mr. Fiorino checks out the work she’s already done.”
“Sounds like you’ve got things under control,” Sister Agatha said with an approving nod.
Another order came in and Sister Ignatius printed out the combination form, which included label and invoice as well. “I better get back to the packing room,” Sister Ignatius said. “Today’s orders have to be ready to go in an hour when the parcel express man comes.”
“I’ll be in town for a while this afternoon,” Sister Agatha told Sister de Lourdes, “but if there’s a crisis here, don’t hesitate to call me back.”
Sister Ignatius picked up the order sheets from the desk, then froze in place. Smiling broadly, her eyes lighting up as if by an inner fire, she pointed a watermark left on the surface of the desk by its previous owner. “My heavens, look!”
“Is something wrong?” Sister Agatha asked, leaning over.
“Don’t you see it? It’s an angel!” Using her index finger Sister Ignatius traced the vague outline of what could have been wings.
Sister Agatha moved closer, then leaned to one side, but the blob looked more like an amoeba to her.
“It’s a sign, Sisters. We’ll come through this present trouble just fine. Our angels are watching over us,” Sister Ignatius said with a big smile.
Sister Agatha remembered the visitor they’d had a year ago and the incident that had convinced even the most skeptical among them that God had given their monastery a special angel to keep them safe. Yet the only proof the water stain before them held was that wood and water couldn’t coexist without casualties.
“It’s not that I ever doubted we’d be fine,” Sister Ignatius added quickly. “It’s just so nice to see little signs like these.”
As she left, Sister de Lourdes glanced at Sister Agatha. “Do you see an angel?” she whispered.
“No, but she did,” Sister Agatha replied. “Maybe that’s enough.”
A short time later Sister Agatha headed to the sheriff’s office to meet Tom. She’d be calling Terri soon, and, by then, she wanted to have all the security details worked out. Deep in her heart she prayed that it would turn out to be a real family reunion—that once they got together, Terri would realize the value of what she’d been given a chance to reclaim.
She and Pax arrived at the local station in less than fifteen minutes. Sister Agatha waved to the desk sergeant, then, keeping Pax with her, continued down the hall. Tom was behind his desk, muttering curses as he checked the computer’s connections.
“I recognize that M.O.,” Sister Agatha said, shaking her head as she looked at his monitor. “Oh, no—the blue screen of death. I believe that’s what the techies call it.”
“This antique, worthless pile of junk just locked up on me for no reason at all. Everything I’ve entered since my last save is probably gone to data limbo.”
“Maybe not all’s lost. Do you have an auto-save feature?”
“You’re asking me? I have no idea. I’ll have Millie handle this,” he said, looking over at the blue screen again and scowling. “But first, what’s up? I can always tell when you’ve got something on your mind,” he said, his attention exclusively on her now.
She told him about Terri and John Gutierrez. “If she comes forward as Angie, I want to make sure no one’s waiting in the sidelines. Terri thought that Garza might be keeping watch on her relatives in case she decided to contact them one day.”
“That’s a valid concern. Let’s go to Terri Montoya’s place and work this out together in detail.”
Sister Agatha called Terri’s number but had to leave a cryptic message. “Drat. I can’t get hold of her and I didn’t get her address—come to think of it, she didn’t offer it. I was supposed to call first and arrange for us to meet.”
“I can get it,” he said, then glanced at his computer and scowled. “On the way out, that is. Millie’s computer is nice to her.”
Sister Agatha, with Pax in the sidecar, followed Tom south through town. Just before the fence indicating the beginning of pueblo land, he turned down a gravel road. At the far end of the cul-de-sac sat five small pueblo-style adobe homes in a half circle. According to the house numbers, Terri’s home was the one farthest back, in the center.
Sister Agatha parked and walked with Pax and Tom to the front door. The low adobe home had been plastered in natural sand tones, and the wood trim on the windows and doors was painted in a familiar,
distinctive shade called Taos blue. Tom knocked loudly, but only silence echoed back.
“Let’s take a look ’round back,” he said.
Pax led the way, walking a few feet ahead of them. As they walked along the left side of the house, a woman who’d been on her knees working in a flower bed next door stood and came into full view. Seeing Sister Agatha, she placed a small hand trowel into the pouch of her apron and waved.
“Hi, Sister!” she said, moving closer to the hedge.
Sister Agatha recognized Cindy Mason immediately. The young brunette volunteered at the rectory whenever Father Mahoney needed yard work done.
“If you’re looking for Terri, you just missed her. She drove away less than a half hour ago,” Cindy said.
Tom glanced at Sister Agatha, then back at Cindy. “Did she say where she was going?”
“We didn’t talk,” Cindy answered. “I came out front looking for my cat and noticed a suitcase beside her car. It looked like she was going on a trip, so I waved. But I guess she didn’t see me. About then, my phone rang, so I ran back inside. By the time I got back outside Terri’s car was halfway down the street.”
Sister Agatha took a look through one of the windows into a bedroom. Terri had obviously packed in a hurry. Half-empty drawers were open, and clothes hangers were scattered all over the floor.
“Looks like you’re right, Cindy. She’s gone,” Sister Agatha said, stepping aside so Tom could take a look for himself. After saying good-bye to Cindy, they walked back to the driveway.
“My guess is that Terri decided to take off before anyone else found out her real identity,” Tom said.
“Let me give her a call,” Sister Agatha replied, bringing out her cell phone. She punched the number but got an out-of-service message. “Can’t get her. Something must have frightened Terri if she left in such a hurry. I’ll call Catholic Charities when I get back to the monastery just in case Lucinda’s heard from her. But I think I should go talk to John Gutierrez next.”
“Your client isn’t going to like this very much, but it wasn’t your fault,” Tom said.
Yet the truth was that she had failed. Maybe if she’d handled Terri differently…. “I wish she’d given John a chance—for her own sake and ours. Without that buffer zone, we could be facing a very rough time with our future neighbors. The outside world is really bearing down on us.”
“Everyone feels that way at one time or another. Just do the best you can with each day. That’s how I define a win.”
Sister Agatha watched Tom as he drove away. No matter how difficult things got, Tom and she had been blessed. Their course in life was defined by purpose and a love for the work they did. The ones like Terri, who’d lost their way, traveled the most painful road of all.
Sister Agatha drove from Terri Montoya’s home straight to the Siesta Inn. Mustering the courage it would take to deliver the bad news, she and Pax went down the hall to John Gutierrez’s room and knocked. After being ushered in by Ralph, she went directly to John’s bedside.
“I’ve got some news,” Sister Agatha said, taking an offered seat and silently noting that her client’s breathing seemed better today. Hopefully, what she was about to tell him wouldn’t bring on a relapse.
John was sitting up, resting on several pillows, obviously anticipating her report. “Have you found my niece?” he asked hopefully.
Sister Agatha filled him in without emotion, then concluded. “I can’t speak for her, but one possibility is that she decided meeting you is too much of a risk—for both of you.”
“Sister, I’m very disappointed,” John said slowly. “I hired you because of your knowledge of this area and because people trust you. I expected more from you.”
His words stung, but she tried not to show it. “I warned you from the start that I couldn’t guarantee results. When someone wants to stay lost, finding them often makes them want to burrow even deeper than before.”
He made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Let’s move on. I need you to find her again, Sister Agatha. Only this time, just tell me where she is. We’ll do the rest. If you succeed, then you’ll still get the rest of the money and the land, as promised. If Angie is afraid for her life, I have the financial resources to take her somewhere safe and hire people to protect her. From what I can see, it’s more important than ever that we get together.”
“She may not be in the area anymore,” Sister Agatha warned. “I have no idea where she went, either, except that she took a suitcase.”
“Then check with those who knew her. See if you can find out where she might have gone. That alone is still worth something to me. Angie obviously needs me now as much as I need her. There’s no stronger bond than blood.”
She heard the determination in his voice and knew that John meant every word. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Sister Agatha, I know Angie,” John said. “She’s too stubborn to cut and run that easily. My guess is that she’s still in the area, checking things out on her own while she tries to decide what to do next. If I can talk to her face-to-face, I can make her see that she’s better off taking the protection my corporation and my resources can offer her.”
A cell phone on the dresser rang, Ralph answered it, then approached the bed with the device in hand. “You’ll have to excuse John for a minute, Sister,” Ralph said, handing his employer the small phone.
“We’re done for now,” she said, nodding to John. “I’ll be in touch.” As she moved away, she saw the label attached to the side of one of the medical devices John was using. It read PRIORITY ONE HOME CARE.
As she left the room, with John in the background speaking on the phone, she couldn’t help but notice that his breathing was almost normal. Gone, too, was the sickly pallor he’d exhibited before on her earlier visits. Today, John didn’t seem like a dying man—more like someone on the road to recovery after a bad respiratory infection. Even the bad news she’d brought him concerning Angie hadn’t impacted his condition in any noticeable way.
As she walked out to the parking lot with Pax, she saw the blue van Ralph had been driving earlier. It was a rental with New Mexico plates. Maybe that meant something, maybe not, but she knew what her next step should be. It was time she learned more about their benefactor—John Gutierrez.
13
HER NEXT STOP WAS PRIORITY ONE HOME CARE. she’d get some answers there. When Sister Gertrude had needed oxygen, Michelle Zamora, the owner, had loaned them the equipment. She was a staunch friend of the monastery.
As Sister Agatha pulled into a parking slot in front of Priority One, Pax’s tail began to wag. Although they hadn’t been here recently, Pax wasn’t about to forget anyone who always had a box of doggy treats ready.
“Hey, pal, she may not have anything for you today, so don’t get your hopes up.”
Pax jumped out of the sidecar and gave her a haughty look that told her he was sure he’d score something.
Sister Agatha passed through the front entrance a moment later.
Michelle looked up and beamed her a smile. “Sister Agatha and Pax, what a pleasant surprise!”
Pax hurried across the room and sat in front of Michelle, who promptly reached into the desk drawer and brought out a dog treat. Pax gulped the green-colored biscuit down in an instant, then placed his massive head on the edge of her desk so Michelle would pet him.
“How’s Sister Gertrude doing?” Michelle asked, her hand on Pax.
Sister Agatha took a seat and glanced absently out the plate-glass window. A dark-green sedan, like the one that had followed her before, drove by and continued down the road.
“Sister Gertrude’s doing fine,” Sister Agatha answered. “I just can’t tell you how much all of us appreciated the medical equipment you loaned us.”
“My pleasure. Besides, the monastery’s prayers are good for business,” she added with a smile.
“So things are going well here?” Seeing her nod, Sister Agatha continued. “I met a new clie
nt of yours, a man staying at the Siesta Inn in Bernalillo. He’s one of our monastery benefactors.”
“Ah, Mr. Gutierrez,” Michelle said in a low, thoughtful voice. “That whole business is a bit on the strange side,” she said, then stopped speaking abruptly. “I’m sorry. It was inappropriate of me to make a comment like that.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve noticed that our out-of-state visitor is a bit odd, too. In fact, if you know anything that’ll help me understand Mr. Gutierrez or Ralph Simpson a little better, I’d sure appreciate you sharing. I’ll keep whatever you tell me confidential.”
After a brief, thoughtful pause, Michelle continued. “The way they handled the equipment rental was really peculiar, that’s all. Ralph Simpson insisted that there was no need for me to consult with the patient’s health-care people or even arrange for set-up and monitoring. He said they’d handle all that themselves. This equipment is expensive and requires expertise to set up properly, so I insisted. But he never gave an inch. Legally, we can rent oxygen equipment and heart monitors directly to a patient, so I went along with them, but I charged them a hefty deposit.”
“Maybe they’re used to handling medical machines and didn’t want to wait.”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing. I can’t understand why Gutierrez would travel by car all the way down from Denver without portable equipment if he was so ill. If he had brought down his own equipment, he also wouldn’t have had to rent it here. There was plenty of room for it in the big van, after all.”
“Those are good points.” After thanking her, Sister Agatha walked back out to the Harley with Pax.
She was pulling out of Priority One when she saw the dark-green sedan again. This time it passed by quickly—much too fast, in fact, for a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone. She was trying to decide whether to follow it or not when the driver left the main road and parked in the driveway of one of the smaller houses in the adjacent subdivision. The car had yellow New Mexico plates.
False Witness Page 12
