Prey for a Miracle

by Aimée; David Thurlo

  “You know me better than that, Tom. All I touched was the floor with my feet. I didn’t even have to turn on the lights because the curtains were already open.”

  “Did you get any of Natalie’s clothes or toys yet?”

  “I never had the chance.”

  “Good. If you still want them, you’ll have to stick around until I release the scene.”

  Tom walked to the kitchen counter, then stopped to play back the messages on the telephone answering machine. There was only one: “Jessica, we have to talk about this, but not at the office. Call me as soon as you get home.”

  Sister Agatha glanced at Tom. “I don’t recognize his voice. Do you?”

  “No, but it’s obviously one of her coworkers. I’ll find out what that was about soon enough,” he said.

  As Tom walked away, Sister Agatha stepped back out onto the porch and used her cell phone to call the monastery.

  “Natalie got here a little while ago,” Sister Bernarda said in answer to her first question. “I took her to the chapel and she just loved the angels in our stained glass window. We’ve already started turning the reception area into suitable quarters. Father Mahoney left to go get her a box of instant hot cocoa and a safe coffee pot to warm water. She likes instant cocoa at night and Father wanted to make sure she had some available. Frances at the rectory has a supply, so he’ll be coming right back.”

  “Frances knows?”

  “Father considered it a necessity and he trusts her with his life.”

  “The fewer who know, the safer she’ll be,” Sister Agatha said in a barely audible voice.

  “I think it’ll be fine,” Sister Bernarda assured. “But Natalie could really use some of her own toys.”

  “I’ll gather what I can as soon as possible.” She gave Sister Bernarda the highlights of what had happened.

  “I wonder what the intruder was after.”

  “I have no idea, but from the looks of it Jessica and Natalie are in more trouble than we suspected. My guess is that this is related to the incident that put Jessica in the hospital.”

  “It’s too coincidental to be otherwise. We better make sure Natalie stays away from the windows and doorways, particularly after the roofers arrive.”

  Soon after Sister Agatha hung up, Tom came back outside and took her statement. Once that formality was over, he led the way to Natalie’s room. “Nothing is obviously missing, like a television set or jewelry, and we have no way of knowing if the intruder actually got what he came for, if anything. You can take whatever you need for Natalie, but do it quickly and discreetly. I don’t want my people to know what you’re doing. I trust them, but they don’t have a need to know,” he said softly, then shut the door, leaving her there alone.

  Sister glanced at the books that had been scattered around on the floor. They were mostly animal stories, and the now famous series about the boy wizard. Even one of those books, which appeared to be the size of a bible, would keep Natalie busy for a long time. She picked up one volume, seeing the dog-eared page near the middle, and figuring that Natalie hadn’t finished reading it yet. Placing it beneath her arm, she moved to the closet, picked up a small athletic bag, and filled it with a few changes of clothes.

  Seeing a pair of fuzzy slippers shaped like mice, she decided to take them, too. She was forcing them into the overstuffed bag when they suddenly squeaked. Sister Agatha jumped, then laughed. Thinking of that squeaking sound every time Natalie took a step, particularly during the Great Silence, made her hesitate, but then, with a smile, she packed them anyway.

  “You almost ready to clear out?” Tom asked, stepping back into the room.

  “Let me grab a toy first.”

  “Take only what you can stick in the bag. And keep an eye on anyone who shows an interest in your coming and going.” He paused thoughtfully, his gaze taking in the condition of the room. “I sure wish Jessica could tell us if anything’s missing. I’m tempted to bring Natalie here, but I can’t risk that right now.”

  “Tell me something, Tom. Do you think we’re looking at this wrong? If they’re after Natalie, why come here and toss the place like a burglar? Everyone knows Jessica’s in the hospital, and this would be a terrible place to hide Natalie.”

  “I don’t know. But I suppose it’s possible that the incident with the vehicles and this break-in are unrelated. Sometimes burglars watch the papers to try and find out when a house will be unoccupied.”

  Sister Agatha nodded. “Like the deceased’s home during their funeral service, or the news coverage of the accident. I’m certain the incident the other night made the local news.” Her experience as a journalist years ago still served as an asset at the oddest times.

  “All the local papers and TV stations covered the incident, especially with the kidnapping angle. I’ve pretty much ruled out drunks or a carjacking because the perp knew Jessica by name, but exactly what the motive was for the confrontation isn’t clear at the moment,” Tom confessed. “We’re checking her vehicle for prints, and will be comparing them with any we find in the house, in case the same person is responsible for what’s been going down. But we have to assume Natalie’s still in danger. Be very careful with her.”

  “We’ll guard her with our lives.”

  Tom nodded, then left the room to go though the house once more.

  Unable to stick any of Natalie’s toys into the already overstuffed bag, Sister Agatha made a quick exit. Walking toward the Harley with Pax, she turned her head at the sound of Tom’s voice.

  “Here,” he said, walking toward her and handing her a large pillowcase. “Maybe this will do,” he said, grinning sheepishly.

  She peered into the pillowcase and smiled. A large doll dressed up like a queen, complete with crown, was inside. “Can I tell Natalie you picked it out yourself?”

  “If you say anything, I’ll deny it,” he grumbled.

  Sister Agatha had Pax climb into the sidecar first, then pushed the pillowcase and bag under the cowling where they’d be protected.

  Bag and pillowcase under each arm, Sister Agatha walked into the monastery’s entry hall, Pax leading the way. As she reached the parlor, Sister Agatha heard the scuffling of furniture being dragged across the brick floor in the reception room to the left. Sister de Lour-des and Sister Bernarda were adjusting the placement of a small three-drawer oak dresser. Seeing her, they both smiled.

  “Good thing you’re back,” Sister de Lourdes said. “We’ve been trying to make it a little more like home in here for Natalie, but we need toys. What did you bring?”

  “All the sheriff would let me take was one small bag, and I stuffed it with clothes and a book. But then he handed me this.” She took the doll out of the pillowcase. “He picked it out himself.”

  “Looks brand new. It has probably been on a shelf since she got it for her birthday. He should have picked the rattiest looking doll instead,” Sister de Lourdes said, smiling. “That would have been the one she’s played with the most.”

  “It’s the thought that counts.” Sister Agatha opened the bag and started putting clothes away. “Where’s Natalie?”

  “Father Mahoney and she went to the chapel. Then he’s going to try and explain why she has to stay here for a bit,” Sister de Lour-des said.

  “Natalie’s a bright kid. I have a feeling she knows exactly why she’s here,” Sister Agatha said. “But things aren’t so clear for the sheriff. He’s not sure what the motive for the incident was, but he still fears for her safety. The fact that the other driver knew Jessica by name is significant, especially because it appears more and more to have been an attempt on Jessica or Natalie and not merely an accident.”

  “Natalie’s taking it well,” Sister Bernarda said. “I expected her to be a little bit apprehensive, but she acted completely at ease, asking a million questions about the monastery.”

  “I’ve heard the stories about her,” Sister de Lourdes said. “Maybe she has a vocation.”

  “Right now she’s j
ust a kid with a lot of problems,” Sister Agatha said. “Don’t let her imagination run away with you,” she added with a smile.

  Sister Agatha finished putting away Natalie’s things. A simple cot with comfortable blankets was against one wall, and on the opposite side the dresser. Atop the dresser was the coffee pot for heating water, Natalie’s hairbrush, her book, and the elaborately costumed doll. The rest of the room remained as it had been, with two wooden chairs and a large wooden crucifix on the wall. Except for the out-of-place doll, it looked like a monk’s vacation home. “This room needs some warmth. I’ll go back to her house once the police are gone and get more of her toys.”

  Sister de Lourdes checked her watch. “Mother has asked that everyone meet before collation,” she said, referring to the monastery’s evening meal, “to discuss the financial crisis we’re facing. But one of us will have to stay with Natalie. I think that should be me since I’ve got to call the pharmacy with questions from Sister Eugenia about Sister Gertrude’s new pills.”

  “All right then,” Sister Agatha said. “If Father Mahoney returns with Natalie while we’re gone, assure him that we’ll take excellent care of his niece and that he shouldn’t worry.”

  Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda entered the enclosure and made their way quietly to the large room at the other end of the cloister where their chapter meetings were held. The other nuns arrived at almost the same time, but their soft-soled shoes scarcely made a sound as they entered the room and took seats in the simple, straight-backed wooden chairs. Reverend Mother was the last to arrive, and as she entered, they all stood.

  After leading them in a brief prayer, Mother gave them a nod. “Sit down, children.” Reverend Mother always called the nuns her children, as was the custom of their order, because her position required her to provide for them spiritually and physically.

  There was a pause as Reverend Mother quickly studied the notes she’d brought along. At long last, she looked up. “Some of our best scriptorium customers have stopped sending us work. That’s cut our income considerably and now we’ve taken another serious blow.

  “A secular company mass-producing altar breads is taking over the business. They’ve sent free samples to every parish in the state, and as a result we’ve lost customers. The bottom line is they charge less than we do and give their customers more choices. We have some loyal customers who’ll remain with us, but in the long run we won’t be able to compete. What it all boils down to is this—we need a new source of income for our monastery.”

  “Until we find one, we’ll learn to do with less, Mother,” Sister Gertrude said.

  Reverend Mother smiled sadly. “We do with very little as it is, child. But we have temporal needs that have to be met—a new roof, for one.” She paused, then saw Sister Gertrude rubbing her temple as if in pain, and added, “Child, are you sure you’re up to this meeting?”

  “I’m supposed to rest, Mother, but how much more restful can I be if all I do is sit?” Sister Gertrude answered. “Sister Eugenia has made sure that old Ironsides and I”—she pointed to the wheelchair—”are practically inseparable.”

  Sister Eugenia smiled. “Sister Gertrude has been a good patient, Mother. She’s even stopped doing zoomies down the hall to the chapel,” she teased.

  The idea of Sister Gertrude doing “zoomies” anywhere made everyone laugh. Of all of them, she was the most methodical about guarding the silence of the cloister. Her entrance into any room had been almost undetectable until her heart condition had forced her to use a wheelchair.

  Reverend Mother continued. “We need a substantial sum for our roof, so today we need to come up with some fund-raising suggestions.”

  “Can the roof be patched again?” Sister Agatha asked. “I know Mr. Martinez keeps saying we need a new roof, but perhaps he can just fix the leaks one more time?”

  Reverend Mother shook her head. “We’ve put it off too long as it is. Some of the sheeting is beginning to rot and we can’t risk weakening the structure and having it collapse through the ceiling.”

  “What about our sinking fund?” Sister Gertrude, their former cellarer, asked.

  “It won’t be nearly enough to cover the roof,” Reverend Mother said. “We could take out a loan, but the truth is I’m not at all sure we can handle the monthly payments.”

  “The roof was damaged during a storm,” Sister Bernarda said. “Can’t we collect on our insurance?”

  Reverend Mother sighed. “Unfortunately we missed two payments in a row and that part of our coverage lapsed.”

  Sister Ignatius was the first to speak. “The Lord has always provided for our needs. We should bring this matter to Him and let Him handle the problem for us.”

  “We do need prayers, child, now more than ever,” Reverend Mother agreed softly.

  “We’ll get started on that immediately. This might seem insurmountable to us, but nothing is insurmountable to God,” Sister Ignatius answered, her voice as firm as her faith. “And remember the angel-shaped cloud we saw the night of the storm. That was a sure sign that we’re being watched over.”

  Sister Eugenia, ever practical, looked at the others, then at Reverend Mother. “Sister Maria Victoria’s quilts are popular and always sell for a good price. Is it possible she could do another one?”

  Sister Maria Victoria looked at Sister Eugenia. “Sister Ignatius, Sister Gertrude and I have been working on a pictorial quilt that shows Our Blessed Mother. It think it’s one of our best and it should be finished soon.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Reverend Mother said. “As soon as it’s ready, make sure Sister Agatha or Sister Bernarda places a photo of it on our Web site. But we’ll need more than this quilt can raise.”

  “We can bring back our Rent-a-Nun project. People like the idea of hiring one of us to pray for them,” Sister Bernarda said. “We’ll post suggested donations for each rental time frame—a day, week, or month. We did this a few years ago during another crisis and it helped.”

  “We’ll do it again. Does anyone else have any other ideas?” Reverend Mother asked.

  “There’s one other way to raise funds quickly—and maybe it’ll give us a new source of steady income, as well,” Sister Agatha said slowly. “Whenever I go into town, people always ask me if they can buy some of our Cloister Cluster cookies. Smitty the grocer, in particular, never fails to do that. I think he’d carry them in his store if we asked, and other merchants might be willing to do that, too. If we could start baking the cookies on a regular schedule I think we’ll be able to turn it into a good, steady business.”

  Reverend Mother glanced at Sister Clothilde. The elderly nun spoke through hand signals only, but by now most of them could communicate easily with her.

  Sister Clothilde nodded, then pointed around the room and back to herself.

  “Yes, we’ll all be happy to help. You won’t be doing this alone,” Reverend Mother said. “Any more suggestions?” When no one else spoke, she nodded once and continued. “Then let’s set our plans in motion.” Reverend Mother looked at Sister Agatha. “I want you to come up with some estimates. Figure out what it would cost us to mass-produce the cookies and what kind of profit we could expect to make.”

  “Mother, you want a profit and loss statement,” Sister Gertrude said. “I know how to do that. Please let me help.”

  Reverend Mother shook her head. “Not yet. You’re still recovering.” Seeing Sister Gertrude’s downcast expression, she relented. “On second thought, we do need your help. But let Sister Agatha do the preliminary work. Your job will be to check her work.”

  “Yes, Mother. And thank you!” Sister Gertrude said with a bright smile.

  “I’ll get the paperwork to you as soon as possible, Sister,” Sister Agatha said.

  As the bell sounded signalling time for the Angelus, Reverend Mother stood and led the prayer. “The Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary…”

  “... and she conceived by the Holy Spirit,” the sisters answered, their
words echoing softly as the peals of the Mary bell resonated in the distance.

  When Sister Agatha returned to the parlor, Natalie had already eaten and Sister de Lourdes was at the desk. Across the entry hall, in Natalie’s new quarters, Father Mahoney was giving his niece one last hug.

  “You’ll be okay?” he asked.

  “Sure! I like it here already,” Natalie said cheerfully.

  “As you said yourself, Father, there’s no safer place in the world for her,” Sister Agatha reminded him gently as he stepped through the doorway.

  He nodded. “Well then, I’d better go back to my duties.” With one last glance at Natalie, who was across the room, book in hand, he left through the outside door.

  “I think we better say some prayers for Father, too,” Sister de Lourdes said softly.

  As Sister de Lourdes left to ring the bell for Compline, Natalie came across the hall and into the parlor. “Is she gone to ring the bell again?”

  Sister Agatha smiled and nodded. “That’s her job—well, one of her jobs.” Glancing at the book in Natalie’s hand, she added, “Did I bring the right book?”

  She nodded. “I like this story a lot, and I’m glad you brought my queen doll, Regina. But I wish I had Gracie, my angel doll. Can we go get her?”

  Sister Agatha shook her head. “No, not yet, but soon, I hope.”

  Natalie sighed. “Even though my angel always keeps me company, I’m kind of homesick already. Having Gracie around would help.”

  “We may have a teddy bear in St. Francis’s pantry. Shall I go look?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. It wouldn’t be the same.”

  Making a mental note to try and get her favorite doll as soon as possible, Sister Agatha helped Natalie into her nightclothes then explained the nighttime routine.

  Seeing the apprehension in her eyes, Sister Agatha gave her a reassuring smile. “You can come to Compline then the blessing with me.” After that, she was sure Natalie would sleep peacefully.

  At four thirty the next morning Sister Agatha heard the wake-up call. She had thirty minutes before Matins, the canonical hour said before daybreak. As she opened her eyes, she fought a sudden sense of disorientation. Why was she sitting in this uncomfortable chair? Her joints were on fire. Then, seeing Pax at her feet and Natalie asleep on the cot, she remembered.