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Authors: Aimée and David Thurlo

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Father Mahoney nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. After she realized that she couldn’t go anywhere without people coming up to her and asking her for favors, she became wary of people. I don’t think she has many friends left at school, either, since no one knows what to make of her, so she stays pretty much by herself. The only place I know she feels comfortable is at the monastery. That’s why I’d take her to Mass with me whenever I could. She thinks she has something in common with the nuns.”

Sister Agatha looked at Father Mahoney in confusion. “I don’t follow you.”

“She said that nuns hear God’s call inside them. It’s not something that other people can hear, too. According to her, that’s the way it is between her and her angel.”

“That’s tough to argue against,” Sister Agatha said with a rueful smile.

“No kidding,” Father said with a weary sigh.

“Folks, we need to stay on track here. If someone is willing to risk killing Natalie or themselves just to contact her, that girl is in serious danger.”

“I learned a lot about publicity and promotion when I was a pro wrestler,” Father Mahoney said. “What we need to do is plant the idea that it’s all television hype. We’ll insist that Natalie’s angel is just an imaginary playmate. We can point out that she has had a thing for angels for years—angel dolls, angel pins, angel candles— you name it. She and her mom made a game of it, but then it got out of hand.”

“Are you so sure that’s all there is to it, Father?” Sister Agatha asked.

“Yes, I am. Look at it objectively. Joanne Ulibarri, the owner of the car involved in the parking lot incident, couldn’t remember putting it in gear or setting the brake. The car is thirty-five years old and barely operable with its sloppy manual transmission. The parking lot is sloped away from the building for drainage, and if the car slipped out of gear, it could have started rolling. Another bump could have put it back in gear. But that possibility was never even considered on the TV show. I heard that very rational explanation at Mr. Gonzales’s garage, and it makes sense to me.”

“What about the other story going around, about Natalie warning her friend about a fire
before
it happened?” Tom asked.

“I talked to Natalie myself about that. Louann Madison had told Natalie the day before in school that her family had just installed a wood stove. That turned out to be the source of the fire,” Father Mahoney said. “Face it, it wouldn’t have taken much for a girl with an active imagination like Natalie’s to mention the dangers of a fire.”

Sister Agatha said nothing. She knew that the archdiocese had put pressure on Father Mahoney to stop the rumors—at least until they could be verified or debunked.

“My sister has had a very hard life,” Father Mahoney continued, looking at Tom, then at Sister Agatha. “Her husband Henry took off and hasn’t shown his face around here since Natalie was born. Forget about child support. He never stays in one place long enough for anyone to track him down. For the past few years, Jessica’s been holding down two jobs just to make ends meet. By the time she gets home, my sister’s dead on her feet. Natalie hasn’t been getting the attention that she needs, and that’s what started this mess. When Natalie began talking about her angel, she got exactly what she wanted—more attention from Jessica.”

“Be that as it may, we have to deal with this current situation,” Tom said flatly. “Natalie is an eyewitness to a crime—maybe a hit-and-run, maybe much more. She was a target before, but it’ll be even worse now. She needs to stay out of the public eye for a while in some kind of protective custody.”

“I’d love to keep her with me at the rectory, but most people know that I’m her uncle. That’s the first place anyone would look,” Father said. “Especially someone who knows the rest of the family, like Henry.”

“I can arrange to have a social worker find a suitable foster home away from here,” Tom said. “Perhaps in Rio Rancho or Albuquerque.”

“Bad idea. That’s going to expose her to even more strangers,” Sister Agatha said. “And to Natalie, all they spell is trouble. If you’re hoping she’ll remember something that’ll help you with your investigation, you need her in an environment where she’ll feel safe. She won’t be able to think clearly unless she can relax.”

“Any suggestions?” Tom asked.

“The monastery,” Father said. “It’s the only answer.”

“Our
monastery? But—”

“I know what you’re going to say, Sister, but there are unclois-tered areas there, and if you think about it, you’ll see that it’s perfect,” Father said. “The monastery is out of the way, secure behind walls and locked doors, and has few visitors. There’s no safer haven for her, and since Natalie feels a special kinship to the nuns, she wouldn’t be frightened.”

“Reverend Mother would have to give her permission, Father. I have no authority to make that decision. Also, you should know that we’re going to need our roof repaired. That means we’ll have workmen around.”

“They’ll be on the roof and Natalie will be inside. It’ll still work.” He looked at Tom. “May I use your phone? I’m going to ask Reverend Mother myself.”

As Father Mahoney went back to Tom’s office, Sister Agatha gave the sheriff a skeptical look. “I’m not so sure Reverend Mother’s going to agree to this. We have other pressing problems at the monastery right now.”

“What could be more appropriate than nuns helping a child?” Tom countered.

“That’s not the point. The monastery separates the sisters from the world so they can pray for it more effectively—like a doctor who has to distance himself emotionally in order to work for his patients. We’re there to achieve union with God and to pray for a world that very often forgets Him. There are plenty of orders that remain active in the outside world, but that’s not the role of our monastery.”

She paused, then smiled slowly and continued. “All that said, I hope Reverend Mother says yes. Even if the cloistered sisters can’t come out and meet her, they’ll be able to visit her from behind the grill. I think they’d all really enjoy having Natalie around.”

Father Mahoney came out a moment later, smiling. “Mother agreed to take Natalie in. She’ll stay with the externs, of course. Mother said that the reception area adjacent to the main parlor can be turned into quarters for her.”

“Okay, that part’s worked out. But the key to this plan is to make sure no one else knows where Natalie is,” Sheriff Green said. “That means Sister Agatha can’t drive her back to the monastery in the motorcycle.”

“I’ll take her and make sure we’re not followed,” Father Mahoney said. “That’ll also give me a chance to talk to her.”

“Father, we have a lot of reporters out there and Natalie’s a hot story. You’ll never even make it to your car without drawing their attention. We’ll need a diversion,” Tom said, then paused thoughtfully. “I’ll meet the reporters and issue a statement that Natalie has been found. I’ll add that kidnapping could have been the motive, and because of that she’s being placed in protective custody in a nearby community. This should throw some of the cranks off the trail. While this is going on, I can have one of my deputies smuggle my eight-year-old son Brent out beneath a blanket. He came to visit and is with Sergeant Miller right now, the head of our motor pool. I’ll make sure the reporters get a glimpse of the action during my talk, and they’ll assume I’m the diversion and Brent is Natalie. They won’t know whether to follow the figure under the blanket or stick with me a bit longer. Either way, that’ll buy you some time, Father—but not a lot.”

“I’ll be away before they know it,” he said resolutely.

“I’ll leave now and make sure that they all see me leaving alone,” Sister Agatha said. “Then, once I’m sure I’m not being followed, I’ll stop by Jessica’s house and get some of Natalie’s things.”

“Whoa, Sister,” Tom said. “I don’t want you going in there alone. Jessica’s place may hold a clue that’ll tell us what really happened on that highway, and who might be responsible for the attempt on her. I’ll make arrangements for a deputy to meet you there shortly. Wait for him.”

As Father Mahoney went inside the lunchroom to join Natalie and Tom left to set up the plan, Sister Agatha called Pax and left immediately. Several reporters spotted her, including some she recognized, but when they realized that she didn’t have Natalie, they returned to the front lobby.

It didn’t take long for her to reach Jessica’s home. As she pulled into the driveway of the tan, pueblo-style stucco house she admired the flower bed of multicolored cosmos that ran along the front of the house. Two large sunflower plants grew next to the front door, brightening up the entrance with its large yellow flowers. Everything was well tended and it was clear at a glance that Jessica loved her home.

As she approached, Sister Agatha noticed that someone had painted a second, smaller doorway behind the giant sunflower on the right. Over the faux entrance were the words, good angels only.

Sister Agatha smiled. There wasn’t a lot of wealth evident here, but there was love in abundance.

As a deputy sheriff’s car pulled up, Sister Agatha waved at the officer. Although everything had appeared normal from the outside, the minute they stepped into the living room, her breath caught in her throat. The place looked like it had been struck by a tornado.

“Wait here, Sister. I’m going to check—”

Pax, who’d come in with them, suddenly shot down the hall.

The deputy raced after him, Sister Agatha a step or two behind. The second they entered Natalie’s room, they found Pax braced beside the open window, snarling and clinging to someone’s pant leg.

5

S
TOP! SHERIFF’S DEPUTY!” HE ORDERED, TRYING TO REACH
around Pax to grab the intruder. Suddenly the fabric tore and there was a thud as the burglar fell to the ground outside, then the sounds of footsteps as he took off running. After failing on his first attempt, Pax jumped onto the window ledge and then outside in pursuit.

Sister Agatha moved out of the way as the deputy rushed past her, heading out the window behind the dog.

Gathering her wits, she pulled out her cell phone and called the station. “We just surprised a burglar,” she told the emergency operator after identifying herself. “A deputy and a police dog are in pursuit.” From the window Sister Agatha could see Pax leaping up into the air next to the six-foot-high fence on the property line, growling and trying to get over, but not quite making it. On the ground was the swatch of fabric from the intruder’s pant leg. Then the officer jumped up and over the fence, out of her view.

Realizing that she was still on the line, she added, “The deputy and Pax are now searching for the burglar, who was last seen heading east.”

“We’ll send a unit over right away,” the dispatcher said. “Just stay in the house.”

“I’ll be here.” But not idle. She wouldn’t touch anything, but maybe if she took a look around, she’d be able to figure out what the intruder had been after.

Screaming sirens announced Sheriff Green’s approach less than five minutes later. The burglar was long gone and Sister Agatha was sitting on the front step with Pax as Tom came up.

Tom spoke to the deputy, who handed him the swatch of fabric from the intruder’s pant leg as evidence, then came over to meet her. “I need you to tell me exactly what you saw,” Tom said.

After giving him a quick rundown, she added, “I’m sorry I didn’t get a look at his face, just his legs and rear end.”

“Same with Deputy Riley. That’s not a win for our side.” Tom walked inside with her as another deputy who’d just arrived began to take photographs of the room. “Did you touch anything?”

“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 just 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.”

BOOK: Prey for a Miracle
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