False Witness

by Aimée; David Thurlo

  She was getting paranoid. That was all there was to it. Some poor man was trying to get home after work and she’d been sure it was a tail. She took a deep breath then let it out slowly. What she needed now were a few hard facts to go with all her vague suspicions.

  Sister Agatha drove back into Bernalillo to the Chronicle’s office. As she pulled up, she saw Chuck sitting on the front step, sipping a can of cola.

  “Hey, Sister! It’s good to see you, and Pax, too. Janice is off covering some harvest festival, and I’m dying of boredom. Any more excitement come your way?” He reached over and scratched Pax atop the head.

  “In a way. Actually, I came hoping you’d help me do some more research. But I’ll still have to ask you to keep it confidential.”

  “Sure, but if there’s a story in this, will you make sure The Chronicle gets it first?”

  “Deal.”

  Chuck took her to Janice’s office and slid a chair across from her while Pax lay down in a sunny spot. “Good thing you’ve been coming when Janice is gone,” he said with a grin. “She wouldn’t be as easy to deal with as I am.”

  “I appreciate this, Chuck. I really do.”

  “Okay, then let’s get started. What do you need, more on that murder witness, Angie what’s-her-face?”

  “No, actually, I need anything you can get me on John Gutierrez, the current owner of Luz del Cielo Vineyards and Winery. He’s from Denver, so that’s probably where his headquarters are located.”

  “Ah, you’re worried that his check will bounce?” he asked. “People who put on a good show claiming to have money all too often do that to get extra perks. No one knows they’re flat broke until it’s too late to collect on outstanding bills.”

  “In this case it’s not that clear-cut,” she said. “I just need to get a better handle on the kind of person the monastery’s dealing with.”

  “Sure, Sister Agatha. I’ll help you. I can get anything on anybody on the Internet.”

  “I probably don’t have to say this, but keep it legal, okay?”

  He scoffed. “Of course. Legal is my middle name. But what you need is going to take more than an article search. We’re going to have to get creative. I’ll begin by using the Chronicle’s business status to get a credit report for the vineyard,” he said then, after a moment, added, “Looks like they’re solid. I can’t check on his tax status, of course, but all his bills are paid up. Gutierrez does business under the banner of Moxom Corporation. Weird name, huh?” He did a search on them, then continued. “Moxom owns several other enterprises, too.”

  Sister Agatha looked at the screen, standing behind Chuck. “I need all you can dig up on Moxom.”

  “Good thing this is a company that trades publicly. That means that we’ve got a huge repertoire of reports we can tap into—from the Securities and Exchange Commission to state corporation ones. Most of that is public domain.”

  He typed a password that led him to another database, then glanced up at her. “For the last two quarters, Moxom Corporation has shown a steady rise in profits. They look very healthy.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “So John Gutierrez is doing well?”

  “According to these corporate numbers, you bet he is.”

  Sister Agatha considered what she’d learned. John had mentioned wanting top dollar for the vineyard, which was why he hadn’t wanted to sell to Eric Barclay, the former owner and now caretaker of the vineyard. He could undoubtedly afford to sell it for less, but maybe that was part of what made him so successful—getting the most out of every deal.

  From what she’d just learned, John Gutierrez appeared to be pretty much as he’d presented himself—all except for some inconsistencies pertaining to his medical condition. Of course, maybe his symptoms were highly variable at this stage, with good days as well as bad. Maybe he’d traveled down in another vehicle, or by air, then had Ralph rent the van and the medical equipment just in case of an emergency.

  “Can you find anything on a Ralph Simpson? He’s Gutierrez’s assistant,” she asked Chuck after a brief pause.

  That request turned out to be harder to fulfill. They needed more than just his name to continue a credit check. Unlike his employer, who had many business assets, Ralph was scarcely a blip on the radar. All they could find out was that he worked for Moxom Corporation. “I can get more for you, but I’m going to need more time.”

  “Okay,” she said, then added, “But for now, can you just track down a good close-up photo of John Gutierrez for me? I need something that’ll verify we’ve been researching the right John Gutierrez—bank account notwithstanding.”

  Chuck worked all the newspaper archives and even tapped into other regional papers, but came up empty. “I guess he’s just not newsworthy,” he said, “at least visually so.”

  “Well, all things considered, that may not be a bad thing,” Sister Agatha said, but before she could go on, her cell phone rang. It was Sister Bernarda.

  “Sister Gertrude’s doctor called in a prescription for her, and we need you to pick it up. Sister de Lourdes can’t leave because the computer crashed again. Merilee from NexCen is here working with her. Since the lights have been flickering more than normal, we’re not sure if our computer troubles are the work of Wilder or due to our electrical system. We may have a problem with the main electrical line coming into the monastery. Merilee’s running diagnostics on the computer right now. In the meantime, I’m checking out the circuits with a volt-ohm meter.”

  “I’ll go by the drugstore. It’s no problem,” she said, then closed up the phone.

  “I’ve got to go, Chuck. Something’s come up,” she said.

  “Okay, Sister. I’ll keep digging and see what else I can get for you.”

  Sister Agatha went outside and was putting on her helmet when she saw the outline of a person standing in the shadows across the street. Pax noticed at almost the same moment, and growled softly, teeth bared.

  By the time she lifted off her helmet for a good look, the person had vanished.

  The knowledge that she was still being watched made her uneasy. Maybe someone besides John was using her to find Terri—perhaps Jimmy Garza. The thought frightened her, but she had no time to indulge in those emotions now. She had work to do.

  Sister Agatha went to the pharmacy just down the street and waited for the prescription. A moment later, the pharmacist, who was also covering customers at the drive-up window, hurried back to the counter. “It’s almost ready, Sister, but I just spotted someone outside taking a real close look at your Harley. Maybe you should go and introduce him to Pax,” he said only half-jokingly.

  Sister Agatha moved to the front door and looked through the glass. A man in a green jacket, sunglasses, and a baseball cap was next to the bike, his face shaded by the bill. Almost as if sensing her eyes on him, he turned and walked away briskly in the opposite direction. “Well, he’s no threat now,” she said.

  A few minutes later, prescription in hand, Sister Agatha went outside with Pax. The man in the green jacket was long gone, but she still wanted to check the bike carefully.

  Sister Agatha walked around the Harley, verifying that all the connections were still intact on the wiring and twin V engine. Then, as she glanced inside the sidecar, she spotted a small note on the seat. Handling it only by the edges, she brought it out and read it.

  YOU’RE IN DANGER. WATCH YOUR BACK.

  Sister Agatha stared at it in surprise, then took the bottle of pills out of the paper sack and placed the note there instead. She’d drop the bag by the sheriff’s station, then continue to the monastery.

  14

  NINE O’CLOCK THE FOLLOWING MORNING FOUND most of the nuns busy with their work assignments. Sister Bernarda was moving from cell to cell—their bedrooms—adding copper wiring and special wire nuts, then reconnecting each outlet.

  The electrician, Mr. Fiorino, had come and inspected her work earlier that day and pronounced it “excellent.” Sister Bernarda had practically
beamed when Reverend Mother had thanked her publicly during Chapter.

  Sister de Lourdes, with Merilee’s help, had managed to get their computer server up and running again and had untangled a mess with the orders.

  For now, things were blessedly peaceful. Then it occurred to Sister Agatha that it shouldn’t have been quite that quiet. The gate repairs should have created a certain amount of chaos.

  Sister Agatha glanced outside the parlor window and saw that work on the partially restored gate had come to a stop. Worried, she tried to telephone the contractor to find out why they’d left, but the company’s line was busy.

  Sister Bernarda came in then, brushing off her long skirt. “I can take over for you here at the parlor now. I’m out of supplies, so I’ll need to wait for Mr. Fiorino before I continue. Do you need to go into town?”

  “Yes, actually I do. I’m very worried about Terri,” she said and explained. “I’m hoping that Mr. Gutierrez is right, and she’s still around, just lying low for the time being.”

  “So do I, though my reasons are selfish ones. Did you know that work on the gate has stopped?”

  “Yes, and I just tried to call the contractor to see what’s going on, but I haven’t been able to get through.”

  “That was a blessing to you straight from God. Lou Curtis, the owner, is really angry with us,” Sister Bernarda said, then in a whisper-thin voice added, “Our check bounced.”

  “What? That can’t be.”

  “It happened. Apparently there was a misunderstanding between Sister Gertrude and Sister Maria Victoria. She took funds out of the checking account and put them into the savings instead of vice versa.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Maria Victoria is a world-class seamstress, but she’s a disaster as the assistant cellarer,” Sister Bernarda said, shaking her head. “I think I could do a better job, and I intend to approach Reverend Mother about it soon.”

  “But your schedule is so full already.”

  “I’m needed.”

  Her response was as simple as it was indicative of the Rule of the Monastery, which required them to put the good of the community ahead of their own. But, in this particular case, she suspected that Sister Bernarda had more than one reason for wanting to keep busy—she didn’t want time to think about the crisis she was facing.

  “But I don’t understand why Mr. Curtis stopped working on our wall. If it’s just a matter of transferring funds, that’s easy enough to fix. The money is there.”

  “Yes, but since the check bounced, Mr. Curtis has now demanded that we pay the full amount up front. We can’t do that, not even with the money from John Gutierrez.”

  “No, I don’t suppose we can,” she said softly. “But if I manage to find Angie Sanchez and earn the rest of the money he promised us….”

  “Then you’d better get busy with that,” Sister Bernarda said, sitting down at the parlor desk. “I’ll start a novena asking that you find a quick resolution to Mr. Gutierrez’s problem.”

  With Sister Bernarda’s words still ringing in her ears, Sister Agatha stepped out the parlor door and onto the small porch. Hearing a songbird up in one of the cottonwood trees, she smiled and glanced up. The enjoyment that respite gave her served as a reminder that the quiet and seclusion they now enjoyed could come to an abrupt end if the land adjacent to theirs was developed.

  Sister Agatha walked toward the motorcycle, whistling for Pax, but then noticed he was already in the sidecar. He leaned across the side of the cockpit, and, resting one huge paw on the motorcycle seat, stared at her impatiently.

  “I’m coming,” Sister Agatha said. She had no idea where to start her search—a motel? They were as common as silver sedans, even Toyotas. She said a prayer as she started the bike, and by the time she passed through the entrance where the gates had been, an idea came to her.

  She’d go see Cindy, Terri’s neighbor. She had a strong feeling that she’d find answers there—providing she asked the right questions. Knowing that it was willingness to listen with the heart that often allowed God’s unerring guidance to come through clearly, she headed south toward Bernalillo.

  Less than twenty minutes later, she parked in front of Cindy’s home and found her working in the garden.

  Having heard the distinctive sound of the motorcycle, Cindy waved and motioned for Sister Agatha and Pax to join her. “I’m glad you came by again, Sister Agatha,” she said brightly, brushing the dirt off her jeans. “I was going to call you about Terri. I’ve remembered something that may be important.”

  Thanking God for his help, Sister Agatha waited.

  “When Terri first moved in, she asked me to keep an eye on her place. She told me that if I ever saw anyone just hanging around, I should call her at work. From what she said … or maybe the way she said it … I got the impression that she wanted to avoid an ex-husband or ex-boyfriend, not just bill collectors. And, yesterday, not long before she left, I saw a guy wearing a blue baseball cap and olive-green windbreaker hanging around behind her house. I just caught a glimpse of him, but he was wearing sunglasses.”

  “Did you tell Terri?” Sister Agatha asked.

  “No, she left shortly after that so I never had a chance to mention it to her.”

  “Show me where the guy was,” Sister Agatha said.

  Cindy led her to the back of the property. “He was standing here, looking at her house.”

  Sister Agatha studied the gravel-lined road. The man she’d seen in the pharmacy’s parking lot, the one who’d tried to warn her off the case, had been wearing the same thing, down to the sunglasses. It was the same person, she was sure of it. And, by now, Tom might have his fingerprints.

  “Were the sunglasses the man was wearing black-framed?” Sister Agatha asked.

  Cindy thought about it. “I think so. Yes, come to think of it, I’m sure they were. How did you know?”

  “I’ve seen him around. One more thing. Are you sure it was Terri who drove away in her car?”

  “It looked like her, but all I saw was the back of her head. “What’s going on, Sister?”

  “She may have been followed—or worse. I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I find out more.”

  Sister Agatha hurried to Tom’s office. Traffic was light this morning, and she made good time. With a quick wave to those busy behind the front desk, she and Pax walked down the hall.

  Tom was standing outside his office talking to someone in a suit when he saw her coming. With a casual wave, he motioned for her to go into his office.

  Sister Agatha and Pax made themselves comfortable, and Tom came in a few moments later. “Before I get sidetracked,” he said, easing down into his chair. “I wanted to tell you that we weren’t able to lift any prints from that note you dropped off yesterday.”

  Disappointed, she told him about her visit to Cindy and what she’d learned about the man who’d probably been watching Terri as well as her. “If he’s been tailing me all along, he’s skilled at it, Tom. I’m worried that he may have followed Terri when she left—maybe even caught up to her.”

  “We’ve got an APB out on Terri. Keep a sharp eye out, and call me immediately if you spot that guy or his car again. I’ll give the description to our patrol officers, but without a plate number or vehicle model, I doubt we’ll get far.”

  “I’ll try her cell phone again,” she offered. Once again, she got a message that the call couldn’t be completed. “No luck, Tom. How about I give you the number?”

  “Good idea. I can get a location if she makes a call.”

  Before she could write it down, her cell phone rang. Sister Bernarda sounded tense. “Sister Agatha, we’ve received a call from NexCen. Their local warehouse was vandalized last night. It’s mostly spray paint, but the warehouse supervisor, a Mr. Orem, would like you to meet him there as soon as possible.”

  “He needs to talk to the sheriff, not me.”

  “A deputy is already there.”

  “Did the superv
isor say why he needs me, then?”

  “Merilee suggested it. That’s all I know.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Sister Agatha hung up quickly, then filled Tom in.

  “If someone is messing with your Internet mail orders, there are federal agencies that can become involved, but, as far as the vandalism goes, that’s generally a misdemeanor. I can also tell you right off the bat that it’s unlikely we’ll be able to do anything more than file a report unless we get a name. We don’t have the manpower to follow that up unless there were major damages.”

  “I guess I better go talk to Mr. Orem.”

  Sister Agatha gave him Terri’s cell phone number, then left the station. She drove southwest until she almost reached the city of Rio Rancho, then turned onto the side street that led to the warehouse. She’d been here once before, right after they’d taken on the NexCen account.

  She pulled up to the gunmetal gray building with a large wooden sign that read NEXCEN. A wide, concrete loading dock about four feet off the ground extended the width of all three doors, each the size of a garage bay. The center door was raised, and she could see Merilee Brown speaking to a man she didn’t recognize.

  Sister Agatha parked in a visitor space, removed her helmet, then walked up the steps at the end of the dock with Pax at her side.

  Merilee, having watched her arrival, gave her an uncertain smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Sister Agatha. This is Dean Orem.”

  Sister Agatha shook his hand. His eyes were a soft blue and his face was gently weathered and lined. Orem was in his midsixties and in good physical shape.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sister,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

  “The second I read the report Dean faxed us, I thought I’d come take a look for myself,” Merilee said. “Now I need your corroboration, Sister Agatha. Remember the e-mails the monastery received from that Wilder crank and the funny little graphics attached to them?”

  “Of course,” Sister Agatha said.