Bad Faith (15 page)

Sister Agatha glanced at Sister Bernarda who seemed to read her mind. “Go make the phone call, Sister. We’ll handle things here.”

Sister Agatha went directly to the parlor and called Frank Walters. It was hard not to feel like they were taking advantage of him. But these were tough times.

“Hey, Sister!” Frank greeted her after she introduced herself. “I’ve missed you around the scriptorium lately. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to talk. Lately the only extern I see is Sister Bernarda. How are things going?”

“Mr. Walters—”

“Frank, please. When you call me Mr. Walters, I think of my dad, God rest his soul.”

“Frank, then,” she said quickly, feeling even guiltier. Not only was she going to ask him to donate his service call, but now she’d made him feel bad.

“We have a problem with the computer equipment,” she said, and explained everything they’d done. “I know you’re a very busy man, but we’re right up against a deadline for one of the libraries, and unless all of our computers are up and working I’m really afraid we’ll miss it.”

“I’m surprised you’re that close to on schedule with all the breakdowns you’ve been having.”

“Frank, I hate to push, but we need you right away, and we also need you to donate the cost of this service call. Our finances are very tight at the moment. Will you do it? The kindness you show us God will reward a hundredfold.”

There was a pause. “All right, Sister. I realize it’s been difficult at the monastery since Father died, especially with the bad publicity and it being called a murder. I imagine some of your benefactors are thinking twice about being linked to the monastery right now. Businesses have to protect their images.”

“And will that include you, too?” Sister Agatha asked.

There was a lengthy silence. “I’m not going to turn my back on Our Lady of Hope. I know the sisters wouldn’t have harmed anyone—regardless of what the news reports suggest.”

There it was—a qualification ribboned around the reassurance. “Thank you so very much. If you could come today and help us repair our computers, we’d be very grateful. In fact, I’ll personally start a novena for your intentions right away.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Sister,” he said. “I’ll be over soon. Oh, and I’ll be bringing my son, Joey, with me. He’s still learning the business.”

Joey was Frank’s twenty-four-year-old son. He had no personality as far as she could tell. That young man could get lost in a crowd of two.

Reminding herself to be more charitable, she quickly thanked Mr. Walters then placed the phone down. Both Frank and Joey had been cleared to enter the scriptorium whenever they were needed, but Reverend Mother would need to be notified.

Hurrying down the hall, she found Reverend Mother in the scriptorium talking to Sister Bernarda.

“I have good news,” she said after greeting them. “Frank Walters has agreed to donate the service call in exchange for the sisters’ prayers and a special novena I’ll be starting right away for his intentions. He and his son should arrive shortly. They don’t live far from here.”

“Well done, child. Will we make our deadlines if the Walters can get the machines working?” Reverend Mother asked.

“We’ll do our best, Mother,” Sister Agatha answered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the look on Sister Mary Lazarus’s face and knew that, had it been permissible, she would have answered Reverend Mother herself. But novices and postulants weren’t allowed to speak to the choir nuns, unless absolutely necessary. From what she knew about Mary Lazarus, Sister Agatha was certain that she would have been willing to stay up all night for a week if that’s what it took to make the deadline. It was really too bad that her feelings for the monastery and her vocation weren’t as absolute as her dedication to deadlines.

“Walk with me, child,” Reverend Mother asked Sister Agatha.

“Yes, Mother.” Sister Agatha followed Reverend Mother outside to the small enclosure that faced the recreation room. Sister Eugenia had planted some cosmos seeds her niece had sent her and the flowers were now in full bloom. “We will cut some of these for the altar. They’re so beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Mother.” She knew Reverend Mother hadn’t bothered to bring her out here for the flowers. Something else was going on.

“I need to speak with you about Sister Gertrude.” She paused, then continued. “Some of the tests they ran while she was at the hospital have now been seen by a second physician. Her heart is very weak and her condition more serious than we thought. It’s imperative that she not be upset, so I’m not permitting her to resume her duties as cellarer. There’s something else I’d like you to know, but you can’t share what I’m about to tell you with the others here in the monastery.”

“Whatever you tell me, Mother, will stay between us.”

She nodded, then proceeded slowly. “Canon law dictates that each monastery has to provide for its own needs. We’ve done well, but, right now, we’ve been hit with some very large bills we need to pay, and our financial situation is not good. The regular income we have from the baking is not sufficient to make up the current shortfall. We’re behind on our renovation loan as well as on recent medical bills. That’s the reason I need to know that the scriptorium work—and our expected fee from it—will be in on time. If you need help, depending on the kind of work that needs to be done, I may be able to assign other sisters to work with you, perhaps Sister Maria Victoria and even Sister Gertrude.”

“That might become necessary, Mother. But, for now, we have enough workers. We just need to get the machines up and running so we have the tools to do the job. That’s where the slowdown is taking place.”

“I’m also going to ask the sisters to be more frugal in their use of lights, and conserve our utilities even more than usual. We have enough to eat for a long time, between the vegetables in the garden, the beans, and the tortillas in the freezer, so food is one thing we won’t have to worry about.”

“But no one here is extravagant, Mother. I honestly don’t see how we can cut back much more. We already hand water each plant, and there’s almost no waste in the kitchen.”

“I don’t know either, to tell you the truth,” she said with a long sigh. “But if donations don’t resume, particularly the ones from our primary benefactors, this monastery may have to shut down.”

“Mother, surely it won’t come to that.”

“I hope not, Sister. But pray for us. If there ever was a time for that, it’s now.”

Sister Agatha watched Reverend Mother walk away as the bells for Terce rang. Her head was bowed as she went to the chapel, ready to fulfill her prayerful duty as a Bride of Christ.

The contemplative life was not an easy one. There was no way to keep the world at bay. They were forever part of it, though they’d chosen not to belong to it. Yet their very isolation made them vulnerable.

Unfortunately for all of them, humanity was seldom kind to the vulnerable things in this world.

S
ister Agatha met Frank and Joey Walters at the door. Joey, who stood nearly as tall as his dad, was slender and had dark brown hair. Unlike his conservatively dressed father, Joey wore baggy black slacks and a sports jersey with some athlete’s last name on the back. He had a perpetually sullen and vacant expression.

Sister invited them into the parlor and offered them something cold to drink. Frank declined, but then added, “Sister, what I’d really like to find out is whether Sister Clothilde will be baking her special oatmeal-pecan cookies this year for our Fourth of July Town Fair.”

She smiled. Sister Clothilde’s cookies were famous around town. She only made them twice a year—for sale at the Fourth of July fund-raiser, then on Christmas as a special treat for the sisters. Yet, despite the rarity of her baking sessions, word had spread, and she’d received special requests from VIPs like the archbishop and the New Mexico state governor.

“You can count on it,” she said. “She loves making her own contribution to the things the monastery sells at the fair.”

“Good. Save me a dozen. Deal?”

“Deal.”

As soon as they arrived in the scriptorium, Frank began to work, sending his son back out to their van for tools and supplies. “What I’m going to do is upgrade some of your existing equipment, but not your hard drives. That would cause more problems for you than it would solve. Upgrading will be expensive, but less than the cost of all new computers. Consider it part of my donation. Of course, in addition to the cookies, I’ll expect a month’s worth of novenas from you,” he said, then added with a smile, “and the prayers of the other sisters as well.”

“Is there a particular intention you’d like us to ask for?”

“Just pray that my company gets out of the slump it’s in right now.”

“You’ve got it.” She smiled. “We’ve all got a stake in you.”

Checking the time, Sister Agatha stood up. “I need to go to check the sacristy, Frank. Father Mahoney may come in early, but I’ll be back soon.” She looked at Sister Mary Lazarus and Celia. “Go to chapel for private prayer, Sisters.”

“With your permission, Mother Mistress, Sister Ignatius asked that I help in the bakery. She needs to get a shipment of altar bread out today and really needs an extra pair of hands,” Mary Lazarus said.

“You may go to her.”

Leaving Sister Bernarda with Frank and Joey, she hurried to the sacristy, checked the mass vestments carefully, then placed them in the two-way drawer, ready for Father Mahoney. As she did, she was reminded of Father Anselm’s last Mass, and a pang of sorrow stabbed through her. “We’ll find out the truth, Father,” she whispered to the empty room, knowing the priest’s spirit would never be far from them. “I promise.”

She returned to the scriptorium immediately afterward and looked around. Joey was there alone, working in his usual slow motion way. “Where’s Frank?” she asked Sister Bernarda.

“He said that he needed some fresh air, that the heat in here was making him edgy,” Sister Bernarda said quietly.

“He’s always recommended a cooler room for the computers, but there’s nothing that can be done about that,” Sister Agatha said. The room wasn’t too bad so early in the day.Eighty degrees was pleasant by comparison to the heat in some other parts of the monastery. There were rooms like the bakery that went well over ninety despite the coolness of the monastery’s adobe construction. Working there in the summer was a true penance.

Joey, who’d moved the computer chassis he was working on next to the open window to take advantage of the light and the breeze, continued what he was doing. “You really should listen to him, Sisters. Computers don’t work very efficiently in high temperatures.”

“I’ll go to ask him what can be done,” Sister Agatha told Sister Bernarda.

She went outside, suspecting that she’d have to soothe ruffled feathers. Working on a computer that was certain to malfunction in the middle of summer was bound to affect anyone’s good nature.

Sister walked out to the parking lot and looked around for Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. She circled around into the garden, but stopped when she heard angry voices just beyond the pyracantha hedge.

Curious, she moved silently down the tall hedge toward the path. Through the gaps, she could see Sister Mary Lazarus and Frank Walters standing face-to-face. They appeared to be arguing.

“Frank, you’re going to have to take some action. You already know Joey is undependable. You’ve got to cut him loose.”

The anger she heard coming from Sister Mary Lazarus surprised her almost as much as the fact that the novice was lecturing a benefactor on his personal business.

“The kid just needs some time to get his life figured out. Sure, he goofs off and gets into trouble. At his age, I did the same thing.”

“Stop making excuses for him. He’s an adult now, and has to learn to stand on his own two feet.”

“I really wouldn’t go there if I were you. You haven’t been doing that for years.”

Stepping back, uncertain if she should make her presence known, Sister Agatha snapped a twig under her shoe. Frank looked her direction.

“Excuse me. Am I intruding?” she said, approaching.

Sister Mary Lazarus’s face went as white as her novice veil. “The heat got to Sister Ignatius and she left the bakery to take a break, so I came out here to get some fresh air before going back,” she managed weakly.

“And then I ran into her, and we started talking,” Frank said. “I was the one who persuaded her to show me the grounds. I needed to cool off before going inside and tackling that computer again. I hope you understand.”

“It sounded like you two were having an argument,” Sister Agatha said.

Frank laughed. “Oh, Sister, that’s not arguing. She was expressing her opinion and I was doing the same. But now I better get back to work.”

Sister Agatha looked at Sister Mary Lazarus, but waited until Frank was out of earshot to speak. “We do have rules, Sister,” she said. “You may be preparing to be an extern, but until you are no longer a novice you don’t go walking around and speaking with a monastery guest. Next time you need fresh air, you might try volunteering for something constructive, like helping Sister Maria Victoria prune the roses around the statue of the Blessed Mother. Sister is there right now
,
as a matter of fact.”

She walked with Mary Lazarus to where Sister Maria Victoria was working. “Our novice would benefit from giving you a hand with the roses,” Sister Agatha said.

“I’d welcome some help,” she said, handing Mary Lazarus some pruning shears and cotton gloves.

They watched the novice for a moment as she began to work, then Sister Maria Victoria took Sister Agatha aside. “Our novice has come a long way, don’t you think?” she said with a chuckle. “I still remember a few months ago when she offered to help us as we worked in the garden during recreation.”

Sister Agatha nodded somberly. “She had a terrible allergic reaction to something while she was weeding. Her poor hands were so swollen she could barely hold her breviary for days. I don’t think Sister Eugenia ever figured out what caused it.”

“No, but look how accomplished she is now,” Sister Maria Victoria said. “We just have to make sure that she always wears a pair of work gloves.”

“Sister, let our novice help you a while longer, then please ask her to return to the scriptorium.” She paused, then added, “How’s the quilted wall hanging coming along?”

“We’ve been working very hard, but the small decorative stitches take a long time and are the hardest to do. That’s why I’m out here. I find I need a break every once in a while.”

“Enjoy your break, Your Charity.” Leaving them to prune the roses, Sister Agatha hurried back to the scriptorium. She found Joey and Frank hard at work, or at least Frank was working hard, and Sister Bernarda was helping wherever she could, holding a part or finding the correct cable.

Though Joey always seemed to follow Frank’s directions, he worked slowly, doing only as much as he was required to do. It was almost as if he were trying to prove to his dad that he wasn’t cut out for this type of work. She had long sensed tension between father and son, but unlike her outspoken novice she had never commented on it

Sister Mary Lazarus returned to the scriptorium about twenty minutes later. Celia followed shortly afterward. While they all worked under Frank’s direction, Sister Agatha kept a subtle watch on Mary Lazarus and Frank. Their computer guru was making a point of not looking at the novice, but Mary Lazarus cast furtive glances at him frequently. Their behavior only served to raise more questions in her mind.

Sister Agatha positioned herself close to one of the small front windows. If she sat just right, she could see the driveway from here and the phone was loud so she knew she could hear it from the scriptorium. Doing double duty as portress while working in the scriptorium was almost routine on some days.

As the bells for Mass rang, Sister Bernarda gave Sister Agatha a worried look. Someone had to stay with Frank. To ask him to leave was unthinkable, particularly when they needed the machines so badly, and the upgrade work wasn’t yet finished. But Mass was difficult for any of them to miss. It balanced their day and focused their thoughts.

“I’ll stay with Frank and his son, Your Charity. You and Mary Lazarus and Celia better get going,” Sister Agatha said.

Sister Bernarda started to protest, but Sister Agatha signaled her to stop. Her offer hadn’t been altogether altruistic. She had a few questions she wanted to ask Frank when there were fewer people around.

Bowing their heads, the three left for Mass.

Sending Joey to the van for a part, Frank continued to work. “Tell me something, Sister,” he said, his eyes still focused on the power supply he was installing. “Do you favor the intruder theory?”

“Yes,” she answered. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everyone who’s part of this monastery is completely trustworthy.”

“Does the sheriff go along with that too?” he asked, finally turning to look at her.

“I’m not really sure.” She held his gaze. “Now I’d like you to answer something for me. How well do you know Sister Mary Lazarus?”

He smiled. “Great way to phrase it—not ‘do you know’ but ‘how well.’ “

“I assumed from the unguarded way she spoke to you that you and she were old friends.”

“I knew her before she became a nun,” he answered obliquely.

There were a lot of questions she wanted to hammer him with, but she held back. It wouldn’t exactly be smart to antagonize their scriptorium’s sole and much-needed benefactor right now.

Joey walked in just then, and Frank resumed working. Accepting that her opportunity for questions had passed, at least for now, she opened her breviary and prayed as he worked.

After about an hour, he looked up, and motioned for his son to start packing up their tools. “Okay. I think these should work now. But remember there may still be a few bugs in the system. I haven’t used new parts.”

“Can we give them a test run now before you leave?”

“Sure.”

Sister Agatha scanned a page from her breviary, and waited. A perfect copy came up on the monitor, the file was saved, and they printed out the page. She repeated the test on the second computer. “They look perfect. In fact, I can see they work even faster than before.”

“That’s the idea. I know you only use the other two for word processing, but I think you’ll find those will run smoother as well,” he said, then added, “Now that you’re all set up, Joey and I better go to the office. Let me know how things go, Sister, and if any glitches turn up.”

She walked the men outside, then closed the parlor doors behind them. She was about to return to the scriptorium when she heard another vehicle driving up. A police unit was coming through the gate. Seconds later, she saw Tom Green emerge.

As his gaze took in the grounds, his face was set and hard. She knew him well enough to know the sheriff was here on a mission, and he was bracing himself for an unpleasant task. Instinct told her to brace herself as well. None of them would like the news he was bringing today.