False Witness (9 page)

Sister Agatha heard voices, one she recognized, and turned to look. Macho had returned, and appeared to be arguing with another teen—a slender kid with styled hair and clothes that didn’t suggest a gang affiliation.

Liz saw what was going on, too. “Don’t worry, Macho won’t throw blows. Not here in public, anyway.”

The boy Macho had been confronting walked away quickly, not running but close to it.

“See?” Liz lowered her voice. “Macho got arrested once and his uncle took him to the D-home. He left him there overnight just to show him what jail was like. Then he told Macho about prison and made sure he met a couple of ex-cons. Since then, Macho has been straight—well, except for a little drinking, and giving some of the kids at school a hard time.”

Hearing footsteps on the asphalt, Sister Agatha turned her head and saw Macho approaching. Pax got to his feet suddenly, his gaze on the boy, but Sister Agatha reassured him quickly. “It’s okay, boy.”

“Noticed you stuck around, Liz. You guys talking about the beer cans again?” Seeing Sister Agatha nod, he added, “I don’t know what Liz told you, Sister, but someone set us up.”

“She knows what happened,” Liz confirmed.

He looked at Liz then back at Sister Agatha. “Did she tell you where she and Sheila left the empties?”

“Yes, she did,” Sister Agatha answered.

She knew that it was almost a direct route from where the cans had supposedly been dumped by the girls to the site where the SUV had been stolen. The beer cans
could
have been picked up en route by the SUV’s driver. She wouldn’t rule out the possibility that it had been a deliberate act to target the kids.

Knowing how easily violence could escalate between rival gangs, she added, “But if someone had wanted to deliberately frame you or your friends, they would have been more careful handling the cans. Most of the prints were lost—smeared. The police only got one partial and one full print.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, Sister, but it could be they weren’t too smart about it. You never know,” Macho said. “I’m going to keep my eyes and ears open. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” Sister Agatha replied.

“You coming, Liz?” Macho pointed toward his car, which was parked several slots down. “I’ll meet you there in a sec.”

As he strolled away, Liz turned to Sister Agatha and in a whisper-soft voice, added, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. The nuns have made some enemies in town, so watch your back.”

“Enemies? What on earth are you talking about?”

“That’s all I’ve got to say, Sister.” Liz started to walk away, but Sister Agatha placed a hand on her arm.

“Tell me what you’ve heard, Liz,” she pressed.

“That’s all I know, Sister. Just remember what I said,” she whispered urgently, then jogged over to join Macho, who’d stopped to wait about halfway to his car.

Sister Agatha watched Liz for a moment, trying to figure
things out. Liz wouldn’t have said something like that without reason. She suddenly had a strong feeling that the monastery’s problems were just beginning.

By the time she returned to the monastery it was after six. Although the parlor was locked to visitors now, she knew that either Sister Bernarda or Sister de Lourdes would be there, waiting for her return.

Sister Agatha knocked lightly and Sister Bernarda came to the door immediately. “We were beginning to worry about you,” Sister Bernarda said, her voice hard.

“I’m sorry. I was delayed,” she answered. “Let me help you lock up and then we’ll go to recreation. It’s been a long, tough day and you and I could both use some time to unwind,” Sister Agatha said.

Sister Bernarda shook her head. “I’m going to chapel. I need to sort some things out.”

“Your Charity, won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?” she asked, pleading with her eyes as well as with her words. “You’ve been so upset lately and I’d really like to help.”

Sister Bernarda stared thoughtfully at the gold band around the fourth finger of her left hand, the symbol that distinguished her as a Bride of Christ. “I need to get a better handle on this before I can talk about it. But there
is
something you can do.”

“Name it.”

“Pray that I can find peace again.”

“I will, Sister Bernarda. And remember our Lord always takes care of his own.”

After making sure the parlor was locked up, Sister Agatha went to the communal room. When she arrived, Reverend
Mother and Sister Gertrude were preparing for their daily walk. Sister Gertrude’s doctor had advised her to find an “exercise buddy” for the times she left her wheelchair so that she wouldn’t overexert herself. Reverend Mother had insisted on taking the job.

Before Sister Agatha could join them, Sister de Lourdes took her aside. “Your Charity, I need to speak to you. Something’s been weighing heavily on Sister Bernarda. I found her almost in tears earlier today, though she tried to hide that as soon as she saw me. She instantly muttered something about hormones acting up, and said I shouldn’t give it another thought.”

Mood swings and emotional outbreaks were part of menopause, and Sister Bernarda was the right age for that, but it wasn’t really something they’d ever talked about. Before she could answer Sister de Lourdes, Sister Clothilde came up, and, mindful of her vow of silence, signaled for Sister Agatha to follow her. They ended up in the kitchen, where Sister Clothilde placed a bowl of vegetable soup and a slice of bread in front of her.

“Sister Clothilde, this is very kind. You saved me something from collation,” Sister Agatha said, using the term for dinner. “But it wasn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it was,” another voice piped in from behind her.

Sister Agatha turned her head and saw that Sister Eugenia had followed them in. “You’ve been neglecting your arthritis medication, Sister Agatha, and tonight I intend to see to it that you take your pill. We’re expecting rain, and you know how your hands swell when the humidity is up.”

“It really hasn’t been bothering me so much lately,” Sister Agatha protested. “I don’t want to take any medication unless there’s a need.”

“If you wait until the symptoms start, you’re in for a rough time, and I’m here to make sure we avoid that.”

Sister Agatha glanced down at her hands. Her joints were misshapen but not badly. Still, arthritis made her feel ancient and far older than her midforties. As she glanced up at Sister Eugenia, she saw her bright blue eyes shimmering with uncompromising determination—a sure sign that any argument would be futile.

As Sister Agatha began to eat, Sister Eugenia took out the medicine bottle from her pocket and placed one pill before her. “Take it after you finish eating—not during. And
don’t
forget!”

Sister Agatha felt guilty sitting there eating while Sister Clothilde gave up recreation, but the older nun refused to leave her side. After she finished, Sister Agatha washed the dishes and helped sweep up and clean the kitchen. They were nearly done and anticipating the bell for Compline when Sister de Lourdes came in looking for her.

“Sister Agatha, tomorrow after morning prayers, will you come help me in the scriptorium? The orders are getting all fouled up again. We’ve also received some letters that I need to talk to you about. They’re very—”

The bell for Compline rang, and immediately they stopped speaking. Their bridegroom called. Heads bowed, they silently made their way to chapel.

T
HE NEXT MORNING SISTER AGATHA MET WITH REVEREND
Mother and went over the details of her meeting with John Gutierrez.

After reading the copies of the legal agreement, Reverend Mother looked up. “This looks like a great opportunity, but do you think you’ll be able to find Angela Sanchez? Private investigators weren’t able to help Mr. Gutierrez. What makes you think you’ll be able to do what they couldn’t?”

“Many people around here would be reluctant to speak to a stranger. But most everyone knows me and, by and large, I’m trusted.”

“Go ahead and give it your best try then, child. You have our blessings and Our Lord to guide you.”

“I’ll get right on it. Mr. Gutierrez’s check will help our cash-flow problem, too. It’s the proverbial coin in the fish’s mouth—coming when it’s most needed and out of the blue.”

“That sum would have paid for the gate and then some when I was a girl. Nowadays, it doesn’t go very far—not with health insurance, car insurance, and monthly utility bills,” she said, then added in a stronger voice, “But we’ll take things one day at a time. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,’ as Our Lord said.”

By the time Sister Agatha made it to the scriptorium, Merilee Brown was there with Sister de Lourdes. The NexCen tech had shown up once again to help them out. Aware Sister Agatha had joined them and, not wanting to interrupt Merilee at the keyboard, Sister de Lourdes took Sister Agatha aside.

“She’s checking out the system again, trying to find the source of the latest glitches. This might take hours,” she said in a whisper-soft voice, “and I’ll need to stay here with Merilee. Do you think Sister Bernarda can cover my shift in the parlor?”

“If she can’t, I will,” Sister Agatha said.

Sister Agatha hurried to the parlor and found Sister Bernarda sorting through some hand tools in a plastic container. Tears stained her face. Seeing Sister Agatha, she looked away quickly and wiped her face.

“I’ve checked with Mr. Fiorino and he’s agreed to inspect the work I do with the outlets,” she said, her tone preempting any questions. “I’m now checking to find out what else I’ll need to start work.”

Sister Agatha touched her arm lightly. “I sure wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you, Sister. Talking about things may help.”

Sister Bernarda’s shoulders sagged as if she were carrying an unbearable weight, but, this time, she nodded. “I’m going through menopause and it’s been forcing me to take a hard look at everything—mostly myself,” she admitted reluctantly.
“I know this sounds crazy, but the worst of it is knowing that even if I left my vocation—which I never would—I still wouldn’t be able to have children now. When we’re young, no decision seems irrevocable. Then, as we get older, we have to live with the consequences of the choices we made. As a nun, I’ve lived with that sacrifice and never questioned it. But once my periods stopped, the awareness of what I’d given up started eating at me. Sometimes it feels like there’s a huge hole inside me. I think it’s the emptiness left by all the things that might have been.”

Sister Agatha wanted to hug her but knew Sister Bernarda wouldn’t tolerate it. “Knowing we’ll never have kids is the biggest sacrifice we all make. None of us ever really gets over it,” she answered gently.

“But when you face the fact that there’s no turning back—
that’s
when the cost hits you the hardest.”

“When you became a nun you submitted everything you are to His care. Put this longing and your tears before Him now. He promised never to leave us comfortless. You need to trust Him now more than ever.”

Sister Bernarda nodded silently. “I am His bride.”

“He loves you and He
is
faithful.”

Sister Bernarda said nothing for a long time then, taking a deep breath, focused her attention back on Sister Agatha. “Enough of this,” she said, sounding like her old self at the moment. “Did you stop by to let me know you were going into town?”

Sister Agatha nodded. “I’m doing a job for Mr. Gutierrez,” Sister Agatha said, and gave her the highlights.

“It sounds like a wonderful offer, particularly with that parcel of land thrown in. I hope it all works out.”

“Before I go there’s something else. We have a potential
problem. Our monastery may have acquired some enemies in the community,” she said, telling Sister Bernarda what Liz had said. “Normally I don’t pay any attention to rumors, but in view of our destroyed gate, the person lurking right outside our wall, and having to deal with a hacker … well, I think there might be something to this. These incidents can’t all be just the result of bad luck or coincidence. Liz may be on to something.”

“But who are these enemies we’re supposed to have?” Sister Bernarda asked. “Last year’s cookie war, if we can call it that, was resolved amicably. And there’s been no other source of contention between us and the community.”

“It’s time I headed into town and started poking around. Maybe I can pick up some hint about what’s going on.”

Just then Sister Clothilde came up to the grille, rapped on the bars, and extended a note to them.

Sister Bernarda read it quickly, then looked at Sister Agatha. “There’s a man with binoculars looking over the wall that separates our property from the vineyard.”

“I’ll take Pax and go see what that’s about,” Sister Agatha said.

“You’re not going without me. I’ll lock up the parlor,” Sister Bernarda said.

Heading out through the kitchen and picking up Pax along the way, the three went outside. Sister Agatha reached the wall first, stood on the
banco
, and looked over at the vineyard, studying the area. As she did, Pax continued sniffing the air and growling.

“He’s still out there,” Sister Agatha said softly as Sister Bernarda joined her, “and it’s not Eric, or Pax wouldn’t be growling. But why doesn’t he come out into the open … unless he’s up to no good?” she added, not really expecting an answer.

“We should hop over and find out for ourselves,” Sister
Bernarda said. “But if we do that without permission,
we’re
the ones trespassing.”

“I’ll take the Harley, drive around, and find Eric,” Sister Agatha said. “In the meantime, call Sheriff Green and tell him what’s going on. Remember that we’ve found cigarette butts on
our
side of the property, so we know for a fact that someone’s been hanging around real close to our wall.”

Seeing Pax begin to relax, Sister Agatha breathed a sigh of relief. “Whoever it was has moved on, but I’m going to go warn Eric. He needs to stay on the lookout. Or maybe he already knows who it is. Either way, he and I need to talk.”

“Will you be coming right back?” Sister Bernarda asked.