The Prodigal Nun (16 page)

T
HEY ARRIVED AT THE SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT WITHIN
twenty minutes. Tom had seen them both come in and, as if sensing trouble, led them to his office immediately. As they passed by the bullpen, Sister Agatha noticed Fritz Albrecht watching. This time she didn’t even bother to nod.

“What’s happened?” Tom asked as he closed the door.

Sister Agatha handed him the envelope containing the photographs. “Chances are the sender didn’t leave any fingerprints, but I thought you’d want to check anyway.”

“Good thinking.”

“Do you think the person threatening us is also Jane’s killer?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice from wavering.

“Yes. Otherwise it’s all too coincidental.”

“What about the stolen plumber’s van, Tom, the one that forced me off the road? Has it been located?” Sister Agatha asked.

He nodded. “It was abandoned east of I-25, up near Placitas. One interesting thing, too. The plumber swears that he locked the van, but although the van was definitely hot-wired, there was no sign of a break-in.”

“Prints?”

“A million of them, most of them belonging to the owner and his partner, as well as dozens of smudged ones. Nothing that’ll lead us to the suspect, though. Before you ask, we didn’t get any prints from the mask or wig.”

Sister Agatha nodded somberly. “I’m finding it hard not to take his threats personally, particularly after seeing those photos.”

“I don’t blame you. He may have had a passing interest in Sister Jo, but you’re the one he’s focusing on now. Of course, you’re the one with the investigative background—the nun who has been linked in the past to the solution of several crimes. I think this is like a game to the killer, and you’re the one being played.”

“Sister Bernarda and I are going to pay Smitty a visit next,” Sister Agatha said, glancing at her fellow extern. “I have a feeling that photo of me at his store was taken recently.”

“Smitty has surveillance cameras at his store these days. See if you can get his permission to check out the video,” Tom said. “If there’s anyone paying particular attention to you, give me a call.”

“Can you give me a copy of those photos? If I look at them long enough, I might be able to come up with something myself,” Sister Agatha said.

After they left the sheriff’s office, Sister Bernarda glanced at Sister Agatha. “Smitty’s video cameras don’t work half the time. He keeps them up there mostly as a deterrent.”

“Let’s ask anyway. We’ve got nothing to lose.” She paused,
then in a sad voice added, “I wish I could go back in time. I’d give anything to undo the past. If only I’d taken time to listen to Jane when she called! If I’d at least tried to talk to her long enough to get more information, I wouldn’t feel so bad.”

“Don’t let guilt master you. We’re all human, and we make mistakes. Our Lord always forgives us because He knows that, too. Focus on what you have to do now,” Sister Bernarda said. “That’s the best way to serve Him.”

At Smitty’s, after saying hello to the two cashiers, Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda went to the rear of the store and found Smitty at his desk.

“Hi, Sisters! What brings you here?”

“We came to ask you a favor,” Sister Agatha said. “We’d like to view some footage from your surveillance cameras. We need to check the times when I was last here.”

He grimaced. “I wish I could help you, but although the cameras are still working, the video recorder quit recording. I’m upgrading to a new digital system that’s scheduled to be installed later today.” He looked at one and then the other. “What’s going on?”

Sister Agatha told him about the threatening photos.

He looked distressed by the news. “I overheard an odd conversation between some kids recently,” he said slowly. “Now I’m wondering if that’s somehow connected to this. Word is that Sister Jo saw Jane’s killer—a man riding a bicycle and packing a pistol. Since you’re the crime solver…”

“Sister Jo couldn’t have seen anything. That’s just flat-out impossible. Nobody inside the chapel can see the parking area through the stained glass windows, and the doors were closed when the crime was committed,” Sister Bernarda replied flatly.

“Sister Bernarda’s right. Any idea where they would get such a crazy story?” Sister Agatha asked.

“Beats me, but that’s what the kids were saying.”

After thanking Smitty, they left the store in silence. Sister Bernarda glanced over at Sister Agatha. “So where to now? Should we go talk to Sister Jo? My guess is that she said something during the soccer match that her students managed to twist all out of proportion.”

“I’ll catch up to her this evening and find out what she said,” Sister Agatha replied.

During recreation that evening, Sister Agatha sat alone on the bench near the statue of St. Joseph. She needed time to think before speaking to Sister Jo about the stories her students were spreading. Right now the young nun was playing with Pax, like children enjoying what was left of the day. Just watching them vastly improved Sister Agatha’s spirits, and helped to ease the burden of responsibility she still felt over Jane’s death.

Sister Bernarda was right—she wasn’t to blame. Intellectually, she understood that. Emotionally…that was another matter. All she knew was that she’d have an easier time sleeping once justice was served.

With that goal in mind, she glanced down at the photo of her on the motorcycle with Pax. The neighborhood didn’t look familiar. Trying to retrace her steps mentally, she silently reviewed all the errands she’d run last week.

She heard a sudden loud squeal and quickly looked back up to see Pax jumping, trying to get the tennis ball away from Sister Jo. She tumbled backward laughing and then threw it for him.

“She’s certainly a breath of fresh air,” Sister Bernarda said, joining Sister Agatha.

“She’s been a blessing to us, and we have something to offer her, too, so it has worked out perfectly,” she answered.

“Just look at her. Her spirit’s so free,” Sister Bernarda said. “You and I wear watches, always conscious of the time—or lack of it—but she doesn’t even bother with one. She told me once that the bells here and at school are all she needs.”

Sister Agatha inhaled sharply. “That’s it! I
knew
I was missing something. Look at these photos. Now notice the arm of the nun on the motorcycle. The wind blows back the sleeves.”

“No watch…but you
always
wear yours—” Her eyes widened. “That was Sister Jo!”

“Put that together with what the kids are saying. I’m more convinced than ever that at least some of our problems are linked to what she
saw.”
Sister Agatha waved. “Sister Jo,” she called out.

The young nun came over immediately, Pax trailing happily after her.

“I need to talk to you. Will you sit down here on the bench for a moment?” Sister Agatha asked.

Sister Jo did as she asked and gave her a worried look. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Sister Agatha said, then sighed and managed a thin smile. “I’d like you to think back to your trip on the Harley—when you got that fake meal delivery call. This is very important, so I’d like you to close your eyes and visualize everything you saw that day. I want details, so think hard, Sister.”

Sister Jo obeyed her request. “I found that street, Calle de Elena, on the street map for Bernalillo we keep in the parlor drawer. Then I loaded up Pax and the lunch and went directly to town, taking the main road all the way. When I reached the street, I started at the 100 block and drove south, checking the house numbers. At the end of the street, there was another
side road that ran half a block and dead-ended at the ditch bank. I had no idea where to go next, so I looked around for anyone who could give me directions.”

“What happened next?” Sister Agatha pressed.

“I spotted a sheriff’s department car parked in the shade of a big tree. A deputy in uniform was standing beside the driver’s door. I slowed down, wondering where the 800 block was from there, and noticed the deputy was holding something…a camera, I think…but I’m not sure about that. A man handed the deputy an envelope, then got into a black SUV across the street and drove off. Then the deputy saw me, so I stopped across the street and waved. I called out, asking where the 800 block of Calle de Elena was. The deputy told me there wasn’t an 800 block, so I thanked him and drove away. I realized that either I’d written down the wrong address or someone had punked me.”

“Then you came back, and met us on the way?” Sister Agatha concluded.

“Exactly.”

Sister Agatha nodded. “Now think back. Try to envision the deputy’s face.”

“I can’t. I was across the road, and he was in the shade, wearing sunglasses and his uniform cap,” she answered.

“Okay, so tell me about the other man, then. Was he taller than the deputy?”

She closed her eyes again, her eyebrows knitting together. “The deputy was kind of tall, but maybe they were close to the same height. The other guy had a blue baseball cap on.” She thought for a moment. “I remember that, as I was driving away, the deputy raised whatever he had in his right hand. Come to think of it, he might have been taking a picture of the Harley. It’s a classic.”

“That was very good. Thank you, Sister Jo,” Sister Agatha said.

Sister Jo’s expression brightened. “I’m glad I could help.”

“There’s something else I need to discuss with you,” Sister Agatha said, her tone serious once more. “Did you know that some of the kids in Bernalillo are saying that you
saw
the killer?”

“What?
I never said anything of the sort! Some of the kids at school came up to ask me about that particular Sunday, so I told them how sad we all were, and how we were praying for the family daily. Naturally, they were also curious about the crime itself. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I did answer one question. I told them that the murder weapon had probably been a pistol.” In a hesitant voice, she added, “I may have also mentioned that the police thought the killer rode away on a bicycle.”

“Kids talk, and somewhere along the way the details got embellished,” Sister Agatha said. “Be
extremely
careful what you say to the students. If I’m right, their interpretation has placed you in the killer’s spotlight.”

Sister Jo drew in a sharp breath. “I heard about the photos you received. Are you telling me that the threats were aimed at me?” Her eyes widened, and she continued before Sister Agatha could answer. “Then I can’t stay here with all of you anymore. I’m a danger to everyone.”

Sister Agatha held up one hand. “Stop. First we’ll tell Reverend Mother. Then we’ll figure out what needs to be done next. We have police protection, so there’s no reason to panic, but I need you to
focus
. Is there
anything
else about your trip into Bernalillo that sticks in your mind? Something that may have led the bad guy to see you as a greater threat to him than, say, the rest of us?”

She shook her head. “I’ve told you all I know!”

“Let’s pray for help right now,” Sister Agatha said. Bowing her head, she led them in the Our Father, then the Memorae, a prayer to the Virgin Mary, asking for her help.

“I’ve always loved that prayer to Our Lady,” Sister Jo said in a much calmer voice after Sister Agatha finished.

“So do I,” Sister Agatha said. “Now let’s try again. Close your eyes, think back, and describe what you saw on that deadend street.”

Sister Jo did as she asked. After several long seconds, she smiled slowly. “The deputy’s car was a regular department vehicle, white with those brown markings and the image of the gold badge on the driver’s door—but I just remembered something else. There was a brown number 73 between the front bumper and wheel. The front corner of the car was in the sun instead of the shade, so it stood out clearly. One more thing,” she added in an excited voice. “The envelope that was handed from one to the other—it was small and thick, like the ones we use to package computer video cards for NexCen.”

“Well done!” Sister Agatha said. “Now why don’t you go play with Pax some more? He loves this time of day.”

As she moved away, Sister Agatha looked at Sister Bernarda. “We should have started with a prayer. That never fails to center a person’s thoughts.”

Before Sister Bernarda could answer, the bells rang for Compline, and it was time to go inside.

L
ONG AFTER COMPLINE, THE NUNS REMAINED IN CHAPEL
, deep in prayer. The monastery was defined by silence. Yet that outward peace was only a manifestation of what they strived to maintain within. It was in that stillness of the soul that God’s gentle whispers touched awaiting hearts.

Sister Agatha reached out to Him wordlessly, asking for His help and His protection. No answers came. Refusing to give up, she remained where she was.

Then, in the soft glow of the flickering candles, she became aware of a gently shimmering light on the left wall. As a flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the chapel, it became a brilliant figure as tall as the ceiling, its bright outline filled with colors.

Tzuriel, the monastery’s angel. She knew it in her heart. Before the words had even formed in her mind, the figure vanished.

Sister Agatha looked around the chapel at her fellow sisters.
Sister Ignatius remained kneeling, her head bowed, a peaceful smile on her face. The rest were staring at the wall in stunned silence.

Sister Agatha knew what they’d seen. Though she’d never be able to prove that it hadn’t been a trick of the light filtering through their stained glass window, her heart whispered a different truth.

Another hour of prayer elapsed before they all left the chapel. After Reverend Mother’s final blessing, the Asperges, the sprinkling with holy water, each of the sisters retreated to the solitude of their cells. Until the bells rang again, they’d remain alone with Him who was faithful.

The next morning, Sister Agatha went to serve as portress while Sister Bernarda and Sister Jo worked to get the Good News lunches ready. She sat down at the desk and, knowing it was imperative that she tell Tom what Sister Jo had remembered, dialed his office.