Prey for a Miracle

by Aimée; David Thurlo

  In the light of a new day the search went easier, but clouds were massing again, and from the looks of it, it would rain again by mid-afternoon. Although their prayers for rain had been granted, what would have otherwise been a blessing now spelled potential disaster. Even if she was safe from harm, Natalie was bound to be cold, miserable, and hungry. Another downpour would not only worsen her condition, it would obscure what was left of her trail.

  Worried and not at all sure what to do next, Sister Agatha pulled to the side of the road and let the engine idle. Realizing Pax was looking at her quizzically, she reached out to pet him. “It’s okay,” she assured him. Bowing her head in prayer, she whispered, “Lord, I know you’re trying to tell me something. This feeling that I’m missing something just won’t go away. But you’re going to have to speak louder.”

  Suddenly a bright flash of lightning cut across the base of a gray, flat-based cloud, followed by an earth-shaking crash of thunder. Sister Agatha swallowed, then took an unsteady breath, struggling to lean on logic. It had been coincidence, of course, but still a bit unnerving. Then, as she stared at the cloud that the lightning had emanated from, she suddenly remembered something important. The old adobe church that had been deconsecrated and sold several years ago lay in that direction. These days it was closed—the efforts to restore it were on hold until the local historical society came up with the funds to complete the project.

  Natalie had told her once in passing how much she liked the angels that had been carved into the wood over the tabernacle area. If Natalie was on her own and scared, she’d head there. Sister Agatha put the motorcycle in gear and took off again at a quick pace, wanting to reach the old church while the weather held. Hope swelled inside her even as she tried to caution herself against expecting too much. They’d all prayed hard for Natalie’s safety and had asked for God’s blessing on their search—surely it wasn’t out of line to believe they’d received an answer.

  Although the old church was quite a way from the accident scene—at least five miles—it wasn’t an impossible distance for Natalie to have walked. If the girl had been afraid and trying to reach safety, she might have remembered that place, especially because of the angels.

  Sister Agatha couldn’t ignore the hollows and bumps in the tree-lined lane so she kept her speed slower than she would have liked because of Pax, who was getting jostled around a bit in the sidecar. A few minutes later, she skidded to a stop in the loose gravel at the front of the old church. Even at this distance she could see that the entrance was chained and padlocked. Fighting a wave of disappointment, Sister Agatha got off the bike. As she glanced at Pax, she saw him sniffing the air.

  “Let’s go, boy,” she said, giving him the signal to join her.

  Pax jumped out of the sidecar in one fluid motion, and ran around to the north side of the church. Looking back at her, he stopped beneath one of the long, narrow, double-hung windows, then began his rapid-fire barking that signalled someone was inside.

  The window was open about sixteen inches, ample enough for a girl Natalie’s size to wriggle through, but not an adult. Sister Agatha tugged at it, hoping to widen the opening so she could fit through, but it stuck after moving another foot and refused to budge.

  Sister Agatha looked at Pax and considered her options. It didn’t seem likely that Natalie was being held there against her will, but if the girl was inside alone, Pax might scare her. Praying that she wouldn’t get stuck, Sister Agatha decided right then to force her way inside. She was relatively thin—with a bit of luck, she’d manage it.

  Two minutes later, feeling bruised and scraped, but grateful to have made it in, she allowed Pax to scramble through, then put him on stay and glanced around. The only light source in the building came through the windows, but between the gloom of the gathering storm and the dirt that had accumulated on the windowpanes, everything looked dim and gray. A dozen or so old pews were pushed against one wall, and the area where the altar had stood was now an empty platform.

  “Natalie, are you here?” Sister Agatha called out, hearing a scraping sound coming from the pews.

  A head popped up from behind a backrest, and in a heartbeat, a little girl with waist-length brown hair and delicate features came rushing up. She launched herself into Sister Agatha’s outstretched arms, nearly knocking her backwards.

  Recapturing her balance quickly, Sister Agatha cupped Natalie’s face in her hands, looking into her large hazel eyes. “Are you all right?” she asked, checking her for injuries.

  “Yes, but my mom bumped her head and got cuts all over her face! The man who’d hit us was coming up to the car and Mom told me to run and hide. I did what she said, but then I got lost in the dark. I was so scared! Then my angel led me here and told me to wait. She said someone nice would come and take me back to my mom.”

  Despite the warmth of the old chapel, Sister Agatha felt a chill, knowing that someone had threatened the child. She led Natalie closer to the window for another good look at her. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “I’m okay, but we have to go get Mom!”

  “She was taken to the hospital, and is getting the care she needs, Natalie. You don’t have to worry anymore, but everyone’s been out looking for you. We couldn’t figure out where you’d gone,” she said, continuing to check Natalie for cuts and bruises as she spoke. Finding none, she added, “Now we need to get back to the others and let them know you’re safe. Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes, Sister. I sat in front of the window when it was sunny earlier and let the sun dry off my feet. My raincoat keeps me warm on top.”

  Natalie tugged at Sister Agatha’s hand, forcing her to look directly at her. “Is Mom really okay?”

  As Sister Agatha saw herself reflected in those large innocent eyes, her stomach tightened. Natalie wanted answers she just couldn’t give her. “You don’t need to worry. You mom’s in good hands,” she said, sidestepping the question.

  Natalie’s eyes lowered as she pulled back her hand. “She was right,” the girl said softly.

  “Who?” Sister Agatha glanced around quickly, making sure they were alone.

  “My angel,” Natalie said, then looked down at the floor.

  Sister Agatha caught only a glimpse of the emotion that had shimmered in Natalie’s eyes before she’d looked away, but she had no trouble identifying it. Natalie had seen her evasion for what it was. In an attempt to protect the girl from the hard facts, she’d created a new problem. Trust could be almost unassailable under the right circumstances, but once broken it was nearly impossible to repair.

  “Things are very complicated right now, Natalie.” Sister Agatha tried to use her cell phone to let the others know that Natalie was all right, but she couldn’t get a signal. “Your mom is getting the care she needs, but your uncle has been going out of his mind with worry. We have to get back quickly. People from all over town are out looking for you. You’re a very lucky girl to have so many friends who care about you and want to help you and your mother.”

  Natalie held Sister Agatha’s gaze for a moment, then shook her head. “People in town don’t really like me. They think I’m weird. They just want me back because they think I can get my angel to help them.”

  Her words hadn’t been bitter. Natalie had only stated the facts as she saw them. The reality of Natalie’s situation hit Sister Agatha hard. For someone so young, she’d already seen way too much of the dark side of human nature.

  “You’re wrong to think that no one really cares, Natalie.” Sister Agatha looked at the entrance doors and sighed, remembering they were chained shut on the outside. “We’ll have to go back out through the window. Pax is over there waiting for us.”

  As they entered the small room, Pax’s tail wagged. “Okay, boy,” she said, releasing him from stay. “Up, Pax.” Sister Agatha touched the windowsill and Pax jumped out easily.

  Natalie looked up at Sister Agatha and smiled expectantly. “He’s a really cool dog. Are you on the moto
rcycle? Can I ride with Pax in the sidecar?”

  At that precise moment, Natalie looked and sounded just like an ordinary eight-year-old, and the realization made a wave of relief sweep over her. Even the desperate circumstances hadn’t stolen Natalie’s excitement for life and new experiences. “Yes to both. Now let’s go,” Sister Agatha said, lifting Natalie up to the windowsill.

  Once Natalie and Pax were safely nestled in the motorcycle’s sidecar, Sister Agatha gave the girl a big chunk of cinnamon bread and said a quick prayer of thanks for Natalie’s safety. Checking her cell phone, she was relieved to find that it was receiving a signal, so she called in, then started up the Harley and headed to the sheriff’s station in Bernalillo. EMTs would check out Natalie there and make sure that she was as okay as she seemed to be. A clinic was just down the street, if it became necessary.

  Sister Agatha made a mental note to call the monastery as soon as she reached the station. It would relieve the minds of all there when they learned that Natalie had been found safe and sound. Maybe she could get permission to remain with Natalie while Sheriff Green questioned her. It was inevitable now, considering Jessica’s last words to her daughter—”Run and hide.”

  Natalie would have to answer tough questions about the collision and the man who’d caused it all. The child would be forced to relive what had undoubtedly been the most traumatic experience of her life. Tom would be gentle with her, but that wouldn’t really lessen the impact.

  Sister Agatha glanced at Natalie and saw that she had her arm over Pax and, for now, seemed at peace. Her own innocence protected her. But innocence was fragile and no match for the evils in the world.

  Thinking about Natalie’s affinity for angels, she whispered a prayer to Saint Michael, her soft words masked by the thunderous engine and the roar of the wind. “St. Michael, Prince of the Heavenly Host, be our safeguard against wickedness…”

  4

  ALTHOUGH SISTER AGATHA’S GAZE REMAINED ON THE ROAD AHEAD, her thoughts stayed on Natalie. She’d been about Natalie’s age, give or take a year, when her own mother had died. Although her father had found ways to deal with his loss, none of them had involved a relationship with his daughter. The worst part had been that feeling of aloneness—not loneliness, exactly, but a horrifying certainty that, from that time on, she’d have only herself to rely on, that no one would ever come to her rescue again.

  Her brother Kevin had helped her more than anyone. Working on his motorcycle with him, playing basketball in the driveway, though she could never shoot worth a hoot, all these had helped her survive that time. But Natalie would have no such comfort if the worst came to pass. The tension and pressure of the days to come would try the girl to the breaking point, and if somebody had actually tried to kidnap Natalie, there was real physical danger to her, as well. Knowing that, Sister Agatha prayed all the way to the station.

  They arrived less than ten minutes later. Trying to avoid the press gathered by the front doors, Sister Agatha parked among the official vehicles in the back parking lot. Natalie was just removing her oversized helmet when Sheriff Green came out of the door.

  “Natalie?” Seeing her nod, Tom led her quickly inside, hurrying to avoid two reporters with accompanying cameramen who’d come around the building after spotting the cherry red Harley with the nun and big white dog. Pax and Sister Agatha remained behind, running interference at the doorway until Tom and Natalie disappeared from view.

  The next several minutes went by in a hurry. Using an officer’s desk phone, knowing it would be a more secure line, Sister Agatha called Reverend Mother and received permission to remain for as long as necessary. While she was on the phone, the EMTs passed by, heading for Tom’s office, where he’d taken Natalie. Then Father Ma-honey arrived.

  Fifteen minutes later, as Sister Agatha waited in the hallway, Sheriff Green came up to her. “Father’s with Natalie now, but before I question her any further, I need to know if she already told you what happened.”

  She recounted briefly what Natalie had said about the man—and her mother’s order that she run and hide. “I didn’t ask her for any details, though. I figured you’d want to hear all that firsthand.”

  “Yeah. I still haven’t been able to determine for certain whether this was an attempted carjacking, kidnapping, or just a drunk driver who collided with them, went over for a look, then took off when he saw someone else approaching the scene. Footprints indicate another person was moving in Natalie’s direction as she fled the accident, then reversed course when the third car approached. But Mrs. Tannen obviously thought Natalie was in danger, or she wouldn’t have told her daughter to run for her life. According to Father Ma-honey, mother and daughter were planning on leaving town as soon as possible because of threats and harassing calls. We can’t afford to rule out kidnapping—the circumstantial evidence is there for such an attempt.”

  Father Mahoney came out of the room before she could comment, a frustrated look on his face. “I’ve told Natalie about her mother’s head injury,” he said. “But she’s convinced that Jessica’s going to be just fine. I didn’t have the heart to take away that hope, but the truth is, Jessica’s condition could go either way.”

  “Natalie’s only eight years old and may not be ready for tough love. For now, let her cling to whatever hope she has,” Sister Agatha said softly.

  “But that’s just it. It’s not hope—it’s utter conviction. And if Jess never wakes up again, what then?”

  “Father,” Tom interrupted. “I understand all the girl’s going through, but I’ve really got to speak to Natalie now. The more time goes by, the less clearly she’ll remember the details of the incident, and right now she’s my only real eyewitness. If the man who hit them is a predator, or has singled out your niece, he may strike again.”

  Father nodded. “Okay, but please be gentle with Natalie. She’s a lot more fragile than she seems. Shall I go in with you?”

  Tom considered it. “I understand that you and Natalie have been at odds about the angel she claims to see.”

  Father Mahoney glowered at him. “She’s a kid with a great imagination, but there are desperate people out there trying to make her into some kind of pseudo-saint. I had to step in. Imaginary playmates are one thing, but this angel thing of hers has gotten way out of hand. Now she and her mother are victims.”

  Tom nodded. “If there’s tension between you two, you’re not going to be much help to me. Let me take Sister Agatha with me instead. Are you okay with that?”

  Father Mahoney looked at Sister Agatha, then nodded. “Take care of her, Sister,” he asked wearily.

  “We all will,” Sister Agatha assured the priest, then looked back at Tom. “But you should know that she doesn’t completely trust me. I hedged when she asked me how her mother was doing, and she picked up on that right away.”

  Father Mahoney exhaled softly. “She’s too perceptive for her own good sometimes. Natalie’s always been able to tell when Jessica or I try to keep something from her,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

  “Well, if she’s as perceptive as you say, that may turn out to be a big help to me,” Sheriff Green said. “I need to put the perp who did this behind bars.”

  Sister Agatha followed Tom into the lunchroom and found Natalie sitting by the table closest to the vending machine, sipping a Coke. The woman EMT who’d remained with the girl nodded, patted Natalie on the arm, then left the room

  “Natalie, I have a few questions for you,” Sheriff Green said.

  She nodded. “I know. Uncle Rick said that you’d want me to tell you about what happened.”

  “That’s right. So why don’t we start at the beginning. When you left the house, where were you and your mom going?”

  “I don’t know. I was playing in my room when Mom came in and told me we were leaving. It was raining really hard and I didn’t really want to go anywhere, so I told Mom I was too tired. But she was really upset and told me to put on my raincoat and get
into the car. There was lots of lightning, so I wanted to take Gracie with me. But Mom just grabbed my hand and pulled me outside.”

  “Gracie? Who’s she?”

  “Gracie’s my angel doll.”

  “What I need you to do now is try to remember what happened next,” Tom said. “When you were riding in the car did your mom say anything about where you were going?”

  Natalie shook her head. “Mom was upset and she never talks much when she’s like that. She just mumbles to herself.”

  “Does your mom usually go for drives when she’s upset?”

  Natalie thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. When Mom’s upset, she cooks. She makes lots and lots of spaghetti sauce. We always have tons of it in the freezer.”

  Sister Agatha bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Seeing the intent look on Tom’s face sobered her up quickly. He was like a dog with a bone. He’d keep asking questions until he had answers.

  “So she took you for a drive instead of cooking. Did that help calm her down?”

  Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think so. We drove for a while, but I could tell she was getting scared. She kept looking in the rearview mirror and saying Hail Marys. I knew something bad was going on, but she wouldn’t talk to me. Then I saw the bright lights of the car behind us. I started to turn around and look back, but Mom yelled at me to scrunch down in my seat and pretend I was hiding. I ducked down real low, then this pickup came up right beside her window and bumped us real hard. It made a scary scraping sound and Mom screamed. I think I did, too. Then our car went bouncing off the road. I thought we were going to turn upside down, like on TV. But we didn’t.”

  “Did you see the driver of the pickup?”

  She shook her head. “It was dark and rainy and I was really ducking down. All I saw was his hat when he came over to the car.”

  “Cowboy hat or baseball cap?”