Prey for a Miracle

by Aimée; David Thurlo

  “Baseball. When our car stopped, I sat up. Mom was lying back and she had scratches on her face. Her nose was bleeding. I was really scared, then we saw the man getting out of his pickup. Mom tried to sit up, but she couldn’t. That’s when she told me to run and hide.”

  “Run and hide from the man?”

  “I guess so.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told Mom I wanted to stay with her. She was hurt, but she just told me to go, and kind of pushed me out the door. I just ran. I could hear the man using swear words, like he was mad at us. But I didn’t stop or look back.”

  Huge tears welled up in Natalie’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Tom handed her a tissue from the table, and waited.

  Sister Agatha wanted to comfort the girl, but experience told her that might lead to more crying and Tom needed answers.

  A few minutes went by, then Natalie looked up. “I shouldn’t have left her. I should have stayed in the car.”

  “You did the right thing obeying your mom,” Sister Agatha said gently.

  Tom looked like he wanted to reach out and hug the girl, but instead he sat up straight and cleared his throat. “The man didn’t call out your name or your mother’s name?”

  “He yelled my mom’s name, I remember—Jessica. Then he said a lot of those bad words. Do I have to say which ones?”

  “No, I don’t need to hear them. What happened after that?”

  “I heard a car horn and saw lights. Another car was coming, but I kept running like Mom said.”

  “Was the person in the pickup tall or short, fat or skinny?” Tom Green asked.

  She considered it for a moment. “He wasn’t real tall, or short. And he was wearing a big jacket so I don’t know if he was fat or not.”

  “So the figure was a he?”

  Natalie began crying again. “I don’t know! Maybe it was a woman with short hair. But the voice sounded like a man.”

  “You’re doing okay, Natalie,” Tom said, his voice gentle. “I just need to know what you remember.”

  Natalie sniffed, then wiped her face. “It’s so hard!”

  “I know. But I need you to help me, okay?” Seeing Natalie nod, Tom continued. “What color was the pickup?”

  “Tan. Like sand. Our house is that color, kind of.”

  “What did you do next? After running away from the man?”

  “I found a road beside a big ditch and kept walking just like my angel said. Then, after practically forever, I saw the church way across the fields. When I got there the front doors were locked, but I walked around and found a window that was open just a little. I used a stick to open it enough to crawl inside, and went in. I was only going to stay until the rain stopped, but my angel said that I should wait there. I laid down on one of the pews and I guess I fell asleep. Then Sister Agatha came.”

  Sister Agatha could tell with just one look that Tom wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear Natalie mention the angel. If Natalie saw things that weren’t there, then her testimony wouldn’t be worth much in court, if it ever came to that.

  “Do you think that your mom knew the person in the pickup?” Tom asked. “You said he knew her name. Do you think that’s why she told you to run and hide?”

  “I don’t know. But she was always pulling me away from people who wanted to ask me questions. Mom doesn’t want me to talk to strangers, even if they call us by our names. We were on TV, you know. Lots of people know who we are now. Mom wants us to move away. She didn’t tell me yet, but I heard her talking to Uncle Rick— Father Mahoney, I mean.”

  Tom nodded. “Right. Could the man have been a neighbor or a relative, like your father?”

  “Maybe Mom knew who it was, but I didn’t. I... ,” Natalie sobbed and looked over at Sister Agatha. “But why would my dad come back and make us have a wreck? He doesn’t want us anymore. He left a long time ago when I was just a baby.”

  “Sorry, Natalie, I didn’t mean to get you upset. I’m just trying to help,” Sheriff Green said softly. “If you remember anything more about the person from the pickup, will you let me know?” He reached into his pocket and handed her a business card.

  She took the card and nodded, running her fingertip over the embossed gold star in the center. “Sure.”

  Sheriff Green bought Natalie a candy bar, then stepped outside with Sister Agatha. Father Mahoney was waiting for them. “How did it go?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” the sheriff said honestly.

  “Tom, I really think she’s told you all she knows,” Sister Agatha said.

  Father Mahoney clenched his jaw, then expelled his breath in a slow hiss. “If you press her for answers she doesn’t have, she’ll…remember things that never happened.”

  “You mean she’ll make it up?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “And that could slow down the search for whoever’s after Natalie.”

  Tom considered it for several moments. “I can’t rule out the possible involvement of Natalie’s father yet, not until we track him down. Or it could simply be the work of a carjacker—more or less random. But this angel idea has generated a whole batch of potential suspects, as well, and I’ve got to look into it. Just how aggressive are the people who try to get Natalie to help or intercede for them?”

  “According to Jessica, it runs the entire spectrum. The good ones take no for an answer. The bad ones are rude, aggressive, pleading, insistent, and prepared to do whatever it takes,” Father said, shaking his head. “But after that TV segment aired, people really went nuts. People started showing up from all over the area, even out of state. That’s why Jessica was planning to move away. According to Jessica, one man cornered Natalie at Smitty’s grocery store and offered her and Jessica a blank check if they’d come and talk to his sick wife. But I don’t know who it was.”

  “I’ll talk to Smitty, and if he doesn’t know, maybe his video cameras picked it up,” Tom said.

  “I still don’t understand why people are jumping to the conclusion that Natalie is capable of healing anyone. She’s never claimed that she can. But I suppose it’s to be expected. After Natalie said that her angel stopped the car in the parking lot, stories continued to spread—and grow.”

  Tom said nothing for a moment, then continued. “I understand Jessica told Natalie not to discuss her angel with anyone. Do you think Natalie did as she was told?”

  Father Mahoney nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. After she realized that she couldn’t go anywhere without people coming up to her and asking her for favors, she became wary of people. I don’t think she has many friends left at school, either, since no one knows what to make of her, so she stays pretty much by herself. The only place I know she feels comfortable is at the monastery. That’s why I’d take her to Mass with me whenever I could. She thinks she has something in common with the nuns.”

  Sister Agatha looked at Father Mahoney in confusion. “I don’t follow you.”

  “She said that nuns hear God’s call inside them. It’s not something that other people can hear, too. According to her, that’s the way it is between her and her angel.”

  “That’s tough to argue against,” Sister Agatha said with a rueful smile.

  “No kidding,” Father said with a weary sigh.

  “Folks, we need to stay on track here. If someone is willing to risk killing Natalie or themselves just to contact her, that girl is in serious danger.”

  “I learned a lot about publicity and promotion when I was a pro wrestler,” Father Mahoney said. “What we need to do is plant the idea that it’s all television hype. We’ll insist that Natalie’s angel is just an imaginary playmate. We can point out that she has had a thing for angels for years—angel dolls, angel pins, angel candles— you name it. She and her mom made a game of it, but then it got out of hand.”

  “Are you so sure that’s all there is to it, Father?” Sister Agatha asked.

  “Yes, I am. Look at it objectively. Joanne Ulibarri, the owner of the c
ar involved in the parking lot incident, couldn’t remember putting it in gear or setting the brake. The car is thirty-five years old and barely operable with its sloppy manual transmission. The parking lot is sloped away from the building for drainage, and if the car slipped out of gear, it could have started rolling. Another bump could have put it back in gear. But that possibility was never even considered on the TV show. I heard that very rational explanation at Mr. Gonzales’s garage, and it makes sense to me.”

  “What about the other story going around, about Natalie warning her friend about a fire before it happened?” Tom asked.

  “I talked to Natalie myself about that. Louann Madison had told Natalie the day before in school that her family had just installed a wood stove. That turned out to be the source of the fire,” Father Mahoney said. “Face it, it wouldn’t have taken much for a girl with an active imagination like Natalie’s to mention the dangers of a fire.”

  Sister Agatha said nothing. She knew that the archdiocese had put pressure on Father Mahoney to stop the rumors—at least until they could be verified or debunked.

  “My sister has had a very hard life,” Father Mahoney continued, looking at Tom, then at Sister Agatha. “Her husband Henry took off and hasn’t shown his face around here since Natalie was born. Forget about child support. He never stays in one place long enough for anyone to track him down. For the past few years, Jessica’s been holding down two jobs just to make ends meet. By the time she gets home, my sister’s dead on her feet. Natalie hasn’t been getting the attention that she needs, and that’s what started this mess. When Natalie began talking about her angel, she got exactly what she wanted—more attention from Jessica.”

  “Be that as it may, we have to deal with this current situation,” Tom said flatly. “Natalie is an eyewitness to a crime—maybe a hit-and-run, maybe much more. She was a target before, but it’ll be even worse now. She needs to stay out of the public eye for a while in some kind of protective custody.”

  “I’d love to keep her with me at the rectory, but most people know that I’m her uncle. That’s the first place anyone would look,” Father said. “Especially someone who knows the rest of the family, like Henry.”

  “I can arrange to have a social worker find a suitable foster home away from here,” Tom said. “Perhaps in Rio Rancho or Albuquerque.”

  “Bad idea. That’s going to expose her to even more strangers,” Sister Agatha said. “And to Natalie, all they spell is trouble. If you’re hoping she’ll remember something that’ll help you with your investigation, you need her in an environment where she’ll feel safe. She won’t be able to think clearly unless she can relax.”

  “Any suggestions?” Tom asked.

  “The monastery,” Father said. “It’s the only answer.”

  “Our monastery? But—”

  “I know what you’re going to say, Sister, but there are unclois-tered areas there, and if you think about it, you’ll see that it’s perfect,” Father said. “The monastery is out of the way, secure behind walls and locked doors, and has few visitors. There’s no safer haven for her, and since Natalie feels a special kinship to the nuns, she wouldn’t be frightened.”

  “Reverend Mother would have to give her permission, Father. I have no authority to make that decision. Also, you should know that we’re going to need our roof repaired. That means we’ll have workmen around.”

  “They’ll be on the roof and Natalie will be inside. It’ll still work.” He looked at Tom. “May I use your phone? I’m going to ask Reverend Mother myself.”

  As Father Mahoney went back to Tom’s office, Sister Agatha gave the sheriff a skeptical look. “I’m not so sure Reverend Mother’s going to agree to this. We have other pressing problems at the monastery right now.”

  “What could be more appropriate than nuns helping a child?” Tom countered.

  “That’s not the point. The monastery separates the sisters from the world so they can pray for it more effectively—like a doctor who has to distance himself emotionally in order to work for his patients. We’re there to achieve union with God and to pray for a world that very often forgets Him. There are plenty of orders that remain active in the outside world, but that’s not the role of our monastery.”

  She paused, then smiled slowly and continued. “All that said, I hope Reverend Mother says yes. Even if the cloistered sisters can’t come out and meet her, they’ll be able to visit her from behind the grill. I think they’d all really enjoy having Natalie around.”

  Father Mahoney came out a moment later, smiling. “Mother agreed to take Natalie in. She’ll stay with the externs, of course. Mother said that the reception area adjacent to the main parlor can be turned into quarters for her.”

  “Okay, that part’s worked out. But the key to this plan is to make sure no one else knows where Natalie is,” Sheriff Green said. “That means Sister Agatha can’t drive her back to the monastery in the motorcycle.”

  “I’ll take her and make sure we’re not followed,” Father Mahoney said. “That’ll also give me a chance to talk to her.”

  “Father, we have a lot of reporters out there and Natalie’s a hot story. You’ll never even make it to your car without drawing their attention. We’ll need a diversion,” Tom said, then paused thoughtfully. “I’ll meet the reporters and issue a statement that Natalie has been found. I’ll add that kidnapping could have been the motive, and because of that she’s being placed in protective custody in a nearby community. This should throw some of the cranks off the trail. While this is going on, I can have one of my deputies smuggle my eight-year-old son Brent out beneath a blanket. He came to visit and is with Sergeant Miller right now, the head of our motor pool. I’ll make sure the reporters get a glimpse of the action during my talk, and they’ll assume I’m the diversion and Brent is Natalie. They won’t know whether to follow the figure under the blanket or stick with me a bit longer. Either way, that’ll buy you some time, Father—but not a lot.”

  “I’ll be away before they know it,” he said resolutely.

  “I’ll leave now and make sure that they all see me leaving alone,” Sister Agatha said. “Then, once I’m sure I’m not being followed, I’ll stop by Jessica’s house and get some of Natalie’s things.”

  “Whoa, Sister,” Tom said. “I don’t want you going in there alone. Jessica’s place may hold a clue that’ll tell us what really happened on that highway, and who might be responsible for the attempt on her. I’ll make arrangements for a deputy to meet you there shortly. Wait for him.”

  As Father Mahoney went inside the lunchroom to join Natalie and Tom left to set up the plan, Sister Agatha called Pax and left immediately. Several reporters spotted her, including some she recognized, but when they realized that she didn’t have Natalie, they returned to the front lobby.

  It didn’t take long for her to reach Jessica’s home. As she pulled into the driveway of the tan, pueblo-style stucco house she admired the flower bed of multicolored cosmos that ran along the front of the house. Two large sunflower plants grew next to the front door, brightening up the entrance with its large yellow flowers. Everything was well tended and it was clear at a glance that Jessica loved her home.

  As she approached, Sister Agatha noticed that someone had painted a second, smaller doorway behind the giant sunflower on the right. Over the faux entrance were the words, good angels only.

  Sister Agatha smiled. There wasn’t a lot of wealth evident here, but there was love in abundance.

  As a deputy sheriff’s car pulled up, Sister Agatha waved at the officer. Although everything had appeared normal from the outside, the minute they stepped into the living room, her breath caught in her throat. The place looked like it had been struck by a tornado.

  “Wait here, Sister. I’m going to check—”

  Pax, who’d come in with them, suddenly shot down the hall.

  The deputy raced after him, Sister Agatha a step or two behind. The second they entered Natalie’s room, they foun
d Pax braced beside the open window, snarling and clinging to someone’s pant leg.

  5

  STOP! SHERIFF’S DEPUTY!” HE ORDERED, TRYING TO REACH around Pax to grab the intruder. Suddenly the fabric tore and there was a thud as the burglar fell to the ground outside, then the sounds of footsteps as he took off running. After failing on his first attempt, Pax jumped onto the window ledge and then outside in pursuit.

  Sister Agatha moved out of the way as the deputy rushed past her, heading out the window behind the dog.

  Gathering her wits, she pulled out her cell phone and called the station. “We just surprised a burglar,” she told the emergency operator after identifying herself. “A deputy and a police dog are in pursuit.” From the window Sister Agatha could see Pax leaping up into the air next to the six-foot-high fence on the property line, growling and trying to get over, but not quite making it. On the ground was the swatch of fabric from the intruder’s pant leg. Then the officer jumped up and over the fence, out of her view.

  Realizing that she was still on the line, she added, “The deputy and Pax are now searching for the burglar, who was last seen heading east.”

  “We’ll send a unit over right away,” the dispatcher said. “Just stay in the house.”

  “I’ll be here.” But not idle. She wouldn’t touch anything, but maybe if she took a look around, she’d be able to figure out what the intruder had been after.

  Screaming sirens announced Sheriff Green’s approach less than five minutes later. The burglar was long gone and Sister Agatha was sitting on the front step with Pax as Tom came up.

  Tom spoke to the deputy, who handed him the swatch of fabric from the intruder’s pant leg as evidence, then came over to meet her. “I need you to tell me exactly what you saw,” Tom said.

  After giving him a quick rundown, she added, “I’m sorry I didn’t get a look at his face, just his legs and rear end.”

  “Same with Deputy Riley. That’s not a win for our side.” Tom walked inside with her as another deputy who’d just arrived began to take photographs of the room. “Did you touch anything?”