“My advice is to tell the sheriff, but stick only to the facts you know. For example, don’t offer any conclusions or speculations, such as a stalking. Just explain about the calls and visits, and that after a while Father started avoiding Mrs. Sanchez’s calls. Tell them about the specific instances when you saw her appear at functions where Father was present. No one could fault you for that.”
“But that’s still going to make her a suspect. What if she’s totally innocent? A woman who’s gone through the death of her husband might be fragile mentally. If the sheriff and his people start making harsh accusations, it just might push that poor woman over the edge.”
“Then explain that to them, just the way you did to me. But you can’t keep this from them. You’d be withholding information, and they’ll take a very dim view of that once they find out—and they will find out. You know how gossip travels back and forth in this community.”
“I suppose you’re right. I’ll call Sheriff Green.”
“Good. And if you need me again, just call.”
As Sister Agatha drove back up the valley to the monastery, she found her mind racing with questions and possibilities. Maybe Joan had felt Father had rejected her by not giving her more of his time. Or maybe she’d fallen in love with Father and, by keeping her at a distance, Father had turned her into a dangerous enemy. Of course it was all speculation at this point. She’d need to dig deeper.
As she drove through the monastery gates, she saw Sheriff Green walking around the tall adobe and stucco-coated wall that bordered the grounds. The white German shepherd was at his side.
She pulled to a stop, took off her helmet, and walked over to talk to him. “Is everything all right?”
“Something occurred to me when I came to pick up Rex,” Tom said.
“Oh, so that’s his name!” She bent down to scratch him behind the ears and the dog cocked his head contentedly. “Good boy, Rex.” She glanced up at Tom. “So, let me guess. You were thinking that if Rex found a way into the monastery, maybe a human could have done the same thing?”
“Exactly. Someone poisoned the priest, and it most likely happened here. My experts say that symptoms began almost immediately, and no one observed any such symptoms when the priest first arrived. That means it was either one of the nuns or an intruder who set things up and slipped back out unnoticed.”
“Have you had any luck finding out how Rex got in?”
He shook his head. “I searched around the outside for paw prints, but I couldn’t find anything except for scattered rabbit and bird tracks, plus some from smaller animals, perhaps a prairie dog or two. Then I checked the gate. When it’s closed and padlocked, it’s impossible for anything larger than a squirrel to squeeze through. So then I started looking for holes under the wall, or in the wall itself. Of course, during the day the gates are open and anyone could have waltzed in here. But I’m thinking that once the nuns are up and about, it would be hard for an intruder to remain undetected.”
“You’re right. Rex couldn’t have hidden for long after all of us were up.”
“The wall is over eight feet high and so are the gates, so I’m certain the dog didn’t jump over,” Sheriff Green said.
“I have an idea. Take the leash off him and see where he goes.”
“All right. He’s trained to recall on command so it shouldn’t be a problem.” Tom did as she suggested, but Rex sat beside him at heel.
The sheriff shook his head. “When he’s with a cop, he’s working, and he knows it. He’s been too well trained.”
“Well, let me try. Put him back on the leash. I’ll lead him away and let’s see what he does then.”
“All right.”
Sister Agatha led Rex to the middle of the garden, took him off the leash, then threw a stick for him to retrieve. The dog enjoyed fetching the stick, and Sister Agatha enjoyed the simple game. But after a few more throws, she crouched down, petted the dog, and walked away a short distance, then turned to observe. The dog sniffed the ground and wandered around, once or twice jumping up trying to catch a butterfly, but he clearly had no particular interest in any specific location.
“This is a waste of time,” Sheriff Green said at last, snapping the leash back on the dog. “He’s just playing. If he remembers where he came in, he’s not about to clue us in, and he certainly doesn’t have to leave that way now with the gate open.”
She continued walking with him, inspecting the adobe wall as they circled the monastery grounds on the inside. “The gates are securely locked for the night after Vespers, a little before six. Then there’s dinner, recreation, and the last office—Compline. After that is the Great Silence, but the nuns still go about freely, in and out of the building, finishing personal chores and the like before bed. I can practically guarantee that Rex wasn’t here then.”
“I know he wasn’t. My deputy said that the dog was in his kennel at ten P.M. when he went by to check on him.”
“Where does the deputy live? How did Rex find this place?”
“Our handler, Ralph Ortiz, is from San Felipe Pueblo. He lives down by the highway, not three miles from here.”
“So Rex had a pretty good walk, but one that’s well within his capabilities. I wonder why he went this way down the road instead of south or east?” Sister Agatha asked.
“Maybe he smelled the river, further west. He’s gotten out before, and gone elsewhere.”
“I’d give anything to find out how he got into my room,” Sister Agatha said.
“Do you have a window?”
“A small one, but there’s a bigger one down the hall. We considered the possibility he came in through that window, but that still doesn’t explain how he got into the compound in the first place.”
“True.” A cream-colored sporty-looking sedan pulled up outside the monastery gate, stopped, and a tall, leggy blond woman in tight clothing stepped out. Sheriff Green exhaled softly, then waved, and the woman waved back.
“A friend of yours?” Sister Agatha noted that the sheriff’s face had become set and flushed. Something about the woman’s appearance had turned his mood sour.
“My wife, Gloria. I was supposed to meet her for lunch. I guess she found out where I was and came to remind me.”
“We went to high school with a girl named Gloria Anderson. But her hair was brown. That isn’t her, is it?” Sister Agatha smiled, remembering how Gloria had flirted with Tom for months, and had been quite jealous of the relationship he had shared with her their senior year in high school.
“The very same. She’s a blonde now. She chased me until I caught her, Gloria likes to say,” Tom joked halfheartedly.
“I’ll have to visit with her again sometime and catch up on our school years.”
“Yes.” Tom looked at his wife, and she waved again. He waved back even less enthusiastically this time.
The silence became awkward for a moment, then Sister Agatha finally spoke. “Well, I’m glad you’re considering the possibility of an intruder. Hopefully you’ll soon rule out the sisters as suspects entirely.”
His expression suddenly became cold. “Don’t jump to conclusions. You, Sister Mary Lazarus, and that postulant, Celia, are still very much suspects, and so are the parishioners who were here for Mass. And, just so you know, what I personally think doesn’t matter. The evidence is the only thing that does.”
“I think you’re going to be getting some news that will lead you away from our order soon,” she said.
His gaze narrowed. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
She hesitated. This was information she wanted him to get directly from Frances. Then she heard the beep of a car horn and saw Tom turn to glance at his wife, anger flashing in his eyes.
Before she could speak, the bells began to ring for Sext, the midday prayer. She saw that as the perfect opportunity to duck his question. And, from the looks of it, he also needed a chance to square things with his wife. “We’ll talk later. I have to go now.” With
any luck, he wouldn’t know that ex-terns were excused from chanting the Divine Office with the choir nuns.
“Where? I thought the chapel was closed.”
“Yes, but the grounds aren’t. That’s where we’ll meet to chant the Divine Office.”
“You’re not getting off the hook that easy. I need to know what you’ve heard.”
“You’ll find out soon, I promise.”
As she headed back toward the building where the sisters were gathering, Tom walked quickly to his car. Sister Agatha took one look back at her old friend’s wife outside the gate. Gloria was leaning against the car now, and even at this distance, Gloria’s body language implied that she was upset.
Focusing on her own duties, Sister Agatha hurried to meet the sisters. Divine Office was a time when the monastery’s song was said to join that of the angels who, in the presence of God, eternally sang praises to him. Sharing that with her sisters in Christ would strengthen her now that everything they valued was being challenged.
After prayers, the sisters went to the refectory. Their meals were taken without conversation, listening to a reading that would nourish their souls as they fed their bodies. Still determined not to look at the skull and think of many practical jokes her brother, Kevin, would have pulled with it, she kept her eyes glued on the plate before her.
For a second, her mind wandered to Tom, and his wife, Gloria. Ibet his ear is being bent as well, she thought, uncharitably allowing a small grin to escape. Then she focused back on the reading from Thomas Merton’s works.
Afterward, Sister Bernarda hurried to the scriptorium and Sister Agatha left to go to her post in the parlor. As she opened the enclosure doors to step into the parlor, Reverend Mother came up behind her. “One moment, child.”
Sister Agatha turned and lowered her head out of respect. “Yes, Mother?”
“I was notified this morning by the archdiocese that Sheriff Green will be given permission to enter the cloister. But I have gained a concession, too. He must be accompanied by one of our externs at all times when he is among us. I would like that extern to be you.”
Sister Agatha stared at Mother in surprise. “I just saw the sheriff and he never said a word to me about this.”
“He doesn’t know yet, but he will soon.”
Sister Agatha sighed. “That man is determined to find answers—and I’m afraid he still thinks they’re here.” She told Reverend Mother about her discussion with Tom Green.
“I don’t know what’s more unsettling—that we’re suspects, or that we may have had an intruder.” Reverend Mother paused. “What worries me most is how the pressure of the investigation will affect the older sisters. Our monastery should be a place of peace and security to all of us.” She shook her head, her gaze on the rosary fastened to her cincture. “One thing you must do as soon as possible, child, is find out how that dog got in. It’s very dangerous to have an access point we don’t know about.”
“I’ll go over every inch of the grounds, inside and out. Maybe I can find something.”
“Have you heard anything more about when we can expect our new chaplain to arrive? I understood that he has been delayed.”
“They told Frances Williams it could be a few days, Mother,” she answered. “I asked her to remind the archdiocese that we desperately need a chaplain. I know that not using the chapel is very upsetting to everyone, and not having Mass is much worse, especially to Sister Clothilde and Sister Ignatius.”
Reverend Mother smiled. “Not anymore. It seems Sister Ignatius started one of her special novenas to St. Theresa of Lisieux. She has quite a devotion to the little saint. This time she asked for a sign that we would have a chaplain very soon.
And she got the sign she wanted this morning.”
“What was it? I remember when she asked for a fresh rose in the middle of winter, and then there was the time that the blue butterfly appeared in chapel.”
“Do you have to ask?” Reverend Mother gave her a patient, amused smile.
It took Sister a beat to figure it out. “A white dog!”
“There you have it. Praised be Jesus Christ, child.”
“Now and forever,” she answered.
Sister Agatha took a detour and stopped by the scriptorium. There she found Sister Bernarda hard at work. Sister Agatha told her about Sister Ignatius’s sign. “Can you believe it? Sister Iggy always gets answers! I wish my track record was half as good.”
“It’s no surprise that it isn’t. Sister Iggy believes with all her heart that she will get an answer. You only half expect results, so that’s what you get.”
Sister Agatha gave her an owlish blink, stunned. As usual, Sister Bernarda’s answer was right on target
Sister Agatha woke up the next morning to feel a familiar weight resting on her feet. Rex couldn’t have gotten out again—let alone into the monastery. Sister Bernarda and she had gone over every entrance and exit, making sure everything was secure. They’d only made one concession to the improved security—leaving the hall window with its broken screen open. The breeze that circulated down the hall and trickled into the rooms beyond offered the only respite from the unrelenting heat.
Sister Agatha tossed the covers back and turned on the light. The dog lay at the foot of her bed again, giving her a panting grin. He had a musty smell today, like he needed a bath.
“You’ve been sent to test me, haven’t you?” Sister Agatha said, then gave him a quick hug. He was a nuisance, but impossible not to like. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me how you got in?”
The dog laid his head back down on the bed and regarded her with big black eyes.
“Okay. I’ll figure it out for myself. Now we have to get going.”
She got ready for Matins and Lauds, put the dog outside, and saw Sister Clothilde come out to feed him some of the monastery’s oatmeal.
It was déjà vu all over again. After prayers outside, Sister Agatha studied her fellow nuns’ faces. By now everyone had seen the dog and they clearly welcomed his presence.
Enlisting Sister Bernarda’s help after breakfast, they started to inspect the grounds again. The broken screen at the end of the hall was sitting crosswise in the window, having come loose from one of the top hooks. Not remembering how securely it had been fastened in place, they couldn’t rule out a breeze as the culprit rather than a large dog. It was decided to put a screen-door hook at the bottom and fix the screen before the next evening.
Leaving Sister Bernarda for a few moments, Sister Agatha took Rex from Sister Clothilde, who had just given the dog a tortilla spread with peanut butter. Rex was furiously licking the roof of his mouth to get at the peanut butter that had leaked from the tortilla.
“I’m afraid I need to take Rex on a mission of discovery. Pray he shows us how he’s getting in,” Sister Agatha said.
She met with Sister Bernarda a few minutes later and they set out. They examined the gap between the hinges on the gate and the wooden posts that anchored it to the wall. It was only four inches wide, too narrow for a dog as large as Rex. There was just enough clearance under the closed gate for a fat snake, and the limestone gravel underneath was compacted by traffic and showed no sign of having been disturbed.
Next they walked outside the enclosed grounds, examining the ground there. The earth was hard packed, which meant little or no tracks, so they broadened their search. As Sister Agatha glanced around her, she noted the fenced-in electrical transformer that provided power to their area. Tall tumble-weeds lined the inside and outside of the fence, and a warning sign in English and Spanish cautioned against the shock hazard. The narrow gate was padlocked, and obviously hadn’t been used in a while, judging by the weeds growing against it on both sides.
They walked all the way around the area bordering the monastery grounds, leaving no stone unturned, even when crossing the abandoned, concrete-lined irrigation ditch that had been there since the 1920s. They looked for rocks or high spots on the outside of the wall that coul
d have given Rex a jumping platform of sorts, and searched the ground for paw prints that might give them a clue as to the route he’d used, but there was nothing obvious.
Finally they walked over to the cottonwood tree closest to the wall. Sister Agatha looked up at the relatively low branch that extended above the wall.
“Nice try, but dogs don’t climb trees,” Sister Bernarda said, laughing.
“Let’s see if it could be done. When I was a child I saw movies where dogs did some amazing things,” Sister Agatha reached up and grabbed a limb, pulling herself up slowly until she was standing on a stout branch six feet up, holding herself steady by grabbing the branch above her head.
“I think you’re wasting your time—and likely to fall,” she said suddenly, concerned by the height Sister Agatha had reached.
“Let’s see what happens. Rex, come!” Sister Agatha called to the dog, who’d been watching her curiously.
To their amazement, the dog leaped up to a fork in the tree about five feet off the ground, then walked up the same limb Sister Agatha was standing on. As she moved forward, the branch started to droop toward the wall.
“Look, I could walk all the way over to the wall, and I bet he could too,” Sister Agatha said.
“Okay. Now get off there before that branch breaks, and the order has to spend a fortune on duct tape to put both of you back together.”
“One more minute.”
“Even if he can do it, the fact remains that we don’t know if the dog would have thought of doing that on his own. The only way we could consider it proof is if we’d seen him doing it before now.”
“But this method would explain why he couldn’t get back out once he was in,” Sister Agatha said slowly.
Sister Bernarda called Rex, who climbed back down easily. For Sister Agatha getting out of the tree was more difficult. Her long, heavy habit kept catching in the branches and tangling about her feet. Finally, she was back on the ground.
“If we rule out the tree, or someone using a ladder to come and go, then rubbing out their tracks, there’s only one other possibility,” Sister Agatha said. “One of the sisters is letting the dog in and keeping it a secret.”
Bad Faith Page 8
