False Witness (24 page)

Liz tried to speak but all she could produce were tears.

“No, Mrs. Leland, this isn’t Liz’s fault,” Joey said, his voice strained. “I just wanted NexCen to suffer a little for what they’d done to Liz. We’re kids and they took advantage of us. But I was planning to make them a deal in a day or so. For real. I’d show them how I’d hacked into their system
if
they gave me a decent video card for Liz. I figured they’d go for it just to get me out of their hair. And if things went down right, I might have even scored a part-time job there myself, too. Computer companies sometimes hire hackers in order to have somebody on their side. It’s a way of improving their own security, right?” Joey looked at Merilee, who nodded.

Seeing Liz’s face covered with tears, Merilee gave her a gentle smile. “I’m familiar with the hardware problem you had, Liz,” Merilee said. “I can’t condone what Joey did, but I can understand why you were both so upset. We had a lot of angry customers.”

“I never heard about the problem—not until much later,” Liz said, wiping away her tears with a tissue Sister Agatha handed her.

“So tell me, what kind of game
did
you create without the upgraded video card?” Merilee asked.

“It looks pretty stone-age on my own computer with its pitiful graphics. I knew I’d never win with that. Then Joey lent me his laptop because it has a much faster graphics card. The screen’s way too small, and his sound card isn’t as good as mine, but it’s still an improvement.”

“Show me what you’ve got,” Merilee said. “I know someone who’s working with the scholarship committee.”

“Are they going to need a lawyer?” Mrs. Leland asked. “I’m starting to worry about copyright now.”

“That’s not a problem,” Merilee answered. “Scholarship rules clearly state that the rights to any winning project belong to NexCen and the software company that created Wilder.” She then smiled at Liz. “Let’s go see it.”

They all went into Liz’s room and she started up the program. After a run-through, Merilee smiled at Liz. “The graphics need refining, but you’ve done a fantastic job, Liz.”

Leaning back in her chair, Merilee looked at Liz then Joey. “Hacking into our Web site took a lot of skill, Joey. I don’t approve of what you did, but I respect the talent it took to accomplish that. But vandalizing our warehouse …,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s where you really screwed up.”

Liz’s eyes grew wide.
“What?”

Joey stared at his shoes. “Well, NexCen wasn’t paying attention. But I didn’t break anything—except a padlock I cut off. And the spray paint can be removed. I used the cheap stuff.”

Mrs. Leland put her hand on Liz’s shoulder, then looked at Merilee. “You can throw the book at Joey, but leave Liz out of it. It wouldn’t be right to drop her from the scholarship competition because of what one of her loyal—
but stupid
—friends did.”

“I agree,” Merilee said, looking at both kids. “I’ve come up with a much better option for both of you. You’re both bright and imaginative, and we can always use fresh ideas. Come and work in our training department after school using our state-of-the-art hardware. But this offer’s good
only
after Joey cleans
up the warehouse on his own time and at his own expense. He’ll also have to work with our techs to seal the back door you found into our business software. What do you say?”

Liz looked at Joey and they both nodded. “That sounds great,” Liz said. “I’ll help Joey clean up the warehouse, too. He may be an idiot, but he was doing it for me.”

“Mrs. Leland, is this all right with you?” Merilee asked, noting her silence.

“Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll talk to Joey’s parents about this and let them know what happened. And Liz, your computer’s still going into the living room. I’m going to be watching everything that appears on that screen from now on.”

“Mom, I have
private
e-mail. You can’t read that!” Liz wailed.

“If I choose to, I will. And the rest of your grades better keep coming up.”

“But …” Liz started, but when she saw the look on her mother’s face, her voice faded.

“You both could have been in a world of trouble. Consider yourselves lucky,” Margot said, then turned to Merilee. “I appreciate you giving the kids a break. They haven’t got any common sense, but they’re both pretty smart.”

“And when they grow up, they’ll be even smarter, and hopefully wiser with their choices. NexCen can always use creative people like Liz and Joey,” Merilee answered.

Sister Agatha looked at the two teens. “Next time,
before
you act, say a prayer. Our Lord will show you the right way to go—but you have to
ask
first.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Liz said, “but prayers aren’t always answered,” she added, glancing at her mom.

“Yes, they are,” Sister Agatha said resolutely. “It’s just that sometimes God’s answer isn’t the one we’d hoped to get.”

__________

After having coffee with Mrs. Leland in the kitchen, Sister Agatha, Pax, and Merilee headed back to the monastery.

“You’ve done our company a good turn, Sister Agatha. Things worked out far better than I ever dreamed they would.”

“So our contract will be renewed at the end of the trial period?”

“It’s not entirely my call, but I can almost guarantee it,” Merilee answered.

Merilee dropped Sister Agatha and Pax off by the parlor door, and they slipped inside as quietly as possible moments later. Neither extern was at the desk, but she found a note on the desk: Bowl of soup in kitchen by microwave. It wasn’t signed, but she recognized Sister Bernarda’s handwriting.

Pax hurried through the door of the enclosure and headed to the kitchen, where his kibbles would be waiting. Sister Agatha was hungry, too. She’d missed collation, their dinner.

The monastery was now in the midst of the Great Silence, so she shut and locked the door behind her as quietly as possible. In the kitchen she found the promised bowl of soup, still warm, so she didn’t bother with the microwave. Pax was already there, eating, so she sat down, said Grace, and had dinner.

The stillness of the monastery encircled her protectively as she finished her eating. Today, God had blessed all of them. Their contract would be renewed and their hacker problems were now a thing of the past. Yet a very serious matter still remained before them, waiting for a resolution.

The kids hadn’t been involved in the incident with the gate. The person responsible for that remained couched in shadows and out of her reach. Although she was tempted to call Tom and find out if his stakeouts had turned up anything
new, she wouldn’t break Silence for something that could wait until tomorrow. Instead, she’d take the advice she’d given the kids and spend some time in prayer.

As she stepped inside the chapel, the gentle glow of the votive candles by the statues of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph soothed her. Two sisters were already there praying—Sister Bernarda and Sister Clothilde. Sister Bernarda’s long vigils had received the prayerful support of all the sisters, and one or more of them were always there by her side.

Sister Agatha smiled at Sister Clothilde and bowed her head once, signaling that she’d remain. Sister Clothilde stood, then, moving as silently as only a nun could, slipped out of the chapel.

Sister Agatha knelt down and crossed herself. God’s spiritual presence filled the chapel and, here, with her heart open to His whispers, she found peace.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING SISTER AGATHA JOINED
the others for Matins, Lauds, Mass, and morning prayers, praising God and asking for his blessing on the day. Afterward, she felt strengthened, much like an athlete whose muscles needed to be properly exercised before running the course set before him.

As soon as the Great Silence ended, she reported to Reverend Mother’s office and updated her on her progress. “But Angie’s fate is still in question,” Sister Agatha said, finishing.

“I can see that you still blame yourself. But that’s a sign of pride. There is no ‘you,’ child. Here, there is only ‘us.’ ”

Sister Agatha nodded. In more traditional monasteries, the words ‘I’ or ‘you’ were never to be used. There was really no such thing since, in community, that self of sense was given up and left behind.

“With your permission, Mother, I’d like to check with the
sheriff’s office this morning and see if anything new has turned up concerning Terri and the fugitive, James Garza.”

“All right. We’ll pray that God blesses your efforts on behalf of all of us, and that things will be set right again.”

Sister Agatha bowed her head respectfully, then left Reverend Mother’s office and headed directly to the parlor. Once there, she called Tom. The news wasn’t good.

“Last night I had round-the-clock coverage on that motel, but neither man left, and they had no visitors. This morning most of my people are out diverting traffic and keeping people away from a huge chemical spill near the interstate. It’s a major health hazard. It could take hours.”

“Are any deputies available to continue watching the Siesta Inn?”

“Just me. I’ll be there alone. I called the state police for help, and they’ll keep an officer in the area in case I need backup. But I doubt anything will happen this morning. People who are up to no good, especially escaped felons, prefer the cover of night.”

“What John said about returning to Colorado was probably just an excuse to get rid of me. If they’re involved with the disappearance of Terri, they’ll hang around for a while longer. But you can’t cover two men if they split up,” she answered flatly. “You need me.”

Before he could argue, she muttered a quick good-bye and hung up. By then, Sister Bernarda had come into the parlor to take the first shift. “Thanks for staying with me in chapel last night,” she said.

“I needed time there, too, Your Charity. I had a few things to work out.”

“We’ve all been praying for you, also. We know you’ve been trying hard to locate Terri Montoya.”

“I’m grateful for the prayers,” she said. “That means a lot
to me.” And it did. On the outside, the words “I’ll pray for you” were often used in lieu of “good luck.” Here, those words were laced with the strength that came from an abiding faith that wouldn’t falter.

“When this is over,” Sister Agatha announced, “I’m going to take over all your shifts in parlor for a week. Then you can go to chapel in peace without worrying about being portress.”

“I’m fine, Your Charity,” Sister Bernarda said, taking her seat. “Duty gives us purpose.”

Sister Agatha stopped by the parlor door and glanced back. “I’ll be taking Pax with me today in the Antichrysler, not the Harley.”

“Good idea. It looks like it might rain,” Sister Bernarda said, glancing out the window.

After placing Pax in the backseat, Sister Agatha drove into town. The dog didn’t seem to care which vehicle he rode in as long as he got to go along. She smiled, feeling a touch of envy. To him, life was one great adventure. Pax played, worked, and enjoyed life from moment to moment. They could all learn a thing or two from the dog.

“Good boy, Pax.” The dog, hearing his name, wagged his tail enthusiastically, then stuck his massive head out the window again.

As Sister Agatha approached the Inn, she spotted Tom’s unmarked unit. He’d picked a good location since, from his rear-and side-view mirrors, he could see the main parking area and the two exits.

Slowing down slightly, Sister Agatha checked out the cars. John Gutierrez had a rental van, but if she was right and he wasn’t as sick as he’d made himself out to be, then it was possible that they also had another, less-conspicuous, vehicle close by for clandestine trips.

Driving down the road adjacent to the Siesta Inn, she studied the cars parked by the curb. Eventually, she spotted a dark-green sedan that had Colorado plates and a Denver Broncos sticker.

Sister Agatha telephoned Tom and filled him in. “I’m going to ask people up and down the street and see if the sedan belongs to anyone around here. If I can’t find its owner, then I’m going to park close by and keep an eye on it.”

“I’ll run the plates and let you know what I find out as soon as possible.”

Sister Agatha went to the first house, Pax at her side. The woman there recognized her, and her toddler instantly gave the big dog a hug. As usual, Pax loved the attention, and gave Sister Agatha a huge panting grin.

She was going up to the next house, trying to keep her veil from whipping around in the strong wind that preceded a storm, when a young woman came hurrying out the front door. Seeing Sister Agatha coming toward her, she stopped and gave her a harried smile.

“Hi, Sister Agatha. I’m late for work. Did you need something?”

Sister Agatha pointed to the sedan across the road. “I’m trying to find the owner of that car,” she said.

“I don’t know who he is, but I noticed him walking to the Siesta Inn a few days ago. I had the late shift that night, so it was around midnight. I figured he was probably just a sleaze who’s having an affair with someone. He was acting sneaky—at least that’s what it looked like to me. The car has been there, off and on, for several days.”

“Can you give me a description of the man you saw?” Sister Agatha asked, then realized that still probably wouldn’t tell her if it was Ralph or John.

“At a distance, I really couldn’t see his features. He was broad shouldered and kind of tall, with dark hair.”

“Was he walking fast, or slow, like he might be weak or disabled?”

“Not disabled. He walked like he was in a hurry.”

“Okay, thanks. I appreciate the information.”

“I’ve read lots about you in the papers before, Sister. Are you investigating someone again?”

“Kind of. But don’t tell anyone what’s going on yet. We wouldn’t want to embarrass an innocent person, would we?”

“No way, Sister. People get sued for that nowadays.”

As the young woman hurried off, Sister Agatha phoned Tom and filled him in.

“I just ran the plates,” he answered. “The car is leased to the Three Clovers Corporation. I’m trying to check if that’s one of Gutierrez’s companies—or, more to the point, one of the companies established under John Gutierrez’s name. The van, by the way, was rented under Simpson’s name.”