Prey for a Miracle (12 page)

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Authors: Aimée and David Thurlo

BOOK: Prey for a Miracle
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12

S
ISTER AGATHA ENTERED THE PARLOR, PAX AT HER SIDE
, hours later, and glanced at the new Parcel Express delivery man, who was speaking to Sister Bernarda. The man was about her height but thin and weary-looking, as if he’d just worked a double shift.

“This is one of our other externs,” Sister Bernarda said, and introduced them. “Sister Agatha, this is Andrew.”

Sister Agatha shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Andrew. You look tired—they must keep you running. Are you new to the route or to the company?”

“Both, pretty much, and, yes, I’ve been very busy. But I’ve got to say, I’m glad I had the chance to make a delivery here. I’ve never seen a real monastery up close before. It looks so peaceful. Is it true that the other nuns never come outside?”

Sister Agatha nodded. “They’ve taken a vow of enclosure.”

“What do they do all day? Read the Bible?”

She smiled. That was invariably the first question people asked. “That, too. And they pray and work. We have to support ourselves.”

“That’s something we all have in common, don’t we?” Andrew said.

Hearing the bell for Vespers, Sister Bernarda and Sister Agatha looked at each other. “It’s time for us to close the parlor doors, Andrew,” Sister Agatha said.

Andrew looked at his watch. “It’s five thirty and I still have another delivery to make. I better run, too.” Andrew nodded at both of them, then hurried outside to his truck.

Sister Bernarda knocked and opened the door to Natalie’s quarters. “Are you ready to go to Vespers?” she asked.

The child looked up in surprise, then took off her earphones. They belonged to a radio Sister de Lourdes had found for the girl among their donations. “I’m sorry, Sister. I couldn’t hear you with the music going.”

“I don’t see how you stand it, listening to that noise all day,” Sister Bernarda said.

“Music helps me think. There are times when I need to figure out something for myself and it helps not to listen to anyone else then.”

Natalie’s guileless expression told Sister Agatha that the girl wasn’t trying to be rude, but it still sent a message. She made a mental note to ask Natalie what was troubling her as soon as Vespers was over. For now, they had to get going.

As Natalie put away the radio, Sister Agatha nodded to Sister Bernarda. “Go ahead. We’ll follow.”

“Sit on the south side of the chapel. Mr. Martinez made sure that the area above the tabernacle was finished first because he doesn’t want any more problems. And neither does Reverend Mother, which is why the public side of the chapel will remain closed for now.”

Sister Agatha knew that the possibility their intruder might return was still worrying Mother. Natalie hadn’t been told about the phony nun, just warned to keep her voice low and stay away from windows despite the heavy curtains while the workmen were around.

Several minutes later Sister Agatha led Natalie to the chapel. The girl seemed more subdued than usual and that worried her. Yet as all the nuns began to chant the Divine Office, a sense of peace enveloped Sister Agatha.

Sister Agatha glanced down at Natalie, hoping that the serenity and blessedness of their chapel would soothe her broken spirit. It didn’t take a mind reader to know that the girl had never stopped worrying about her mother. There was no peace in Natalie’s expression.

Sister Agatha brought her thoughts back to the Office, and as the two-tone chant rose high into the air, their voices joined symbolically with the choir of angels who praised God unceasingly.

After Vespers, Sister Agatha escorted Natalie to her room. Pax, who’d been waiting outside of chapel for them, came along. “It won’t take me more than a minute or so to bring us both some dinner, so just wait for me here. Sister Bernarda and Sister de Lourdes are busy helping Sister Clothilde because she’s behind on her baking, despite the new oven. Tomorrow we’ll need to deliver our first shipment of cookies to Smitty’s grocery, which is why most of us will be working in the kitchen tonight, even after the Great Silence.”

“Don’t get dinner for me, okay? I’m not hungry. Uncle Rick brought me a hamburger and fries earlier,” Natalie said. “All I really want is to go see my mom. Will you take me?”

“I spoke to the sheriff about that, and we’re trying to find a safe way to get you there. We’ll make it happen, but I need a little more time, okay?”

Natalie shoulders drooped. “Can I go to bed early tonight? I’d like to listen to music, then go to sleep.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want me to bring you a sandwich at least? How about peanut butter and jelly?”

“No, thanks. I’m still full. I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay. I’ll go get myself a bowl of soup, then come back.”

Natalie crawled into her cot, placed her headphones on, then closed her eyes. Once she’d settled in, Sister Agatha turned off the lights. “Good night,” she said, then realized Natalie couldn’t hear her.

Sister Agatha went to the kitchen to get a quick dinner for herself, but as she stepped through the double doors of the refectory the thick and pungent smell of burnt food seemed to come at her from all sides. Rushing to the kitchen, she saw Sister Maria Victoria and Sister Clothilde pulling three trays of blackened lumps from the oven. Other sisters, alerted by the unmistakable scent, rushed in all together, and as they crowded into the room, a huge bowl of batter went crashing to the floor. Reverend Mother tried to step back and slipped, but Sister Bernarda caught her before she fell. However, in all the confusion, a second batch of cookies burned to a crisp.

Forty minutes passed before everything had been cleaned up and the baking order had been restored. Sister Agatha returned to the parlor and peeked into Natalie’s room. Although it was dark, she could see the girl’s outline in the bed under the covers. Then, just as she sat down, the bell for Compline rang. Remaining where she was, she opened her breviary to pray. If Natalie woke up again tonight, she’d take the opportunity to have a talk with her. For now, the girl was sound asleep.

As she read from the breviary, Sister Agatha suddenly realized that she hadn’t seen Pax in the room with Natalie. Maybe it had just been too dark. Deciding to take another look, she reached for the penlight in the bottom drawer of the parlor desk, and switched it on. The muted glow it gave off would be more than enough.

Moving with practiced silence, Sister Agatha opened the door and looked around. The dog wasn’t on the floor or under the cot. Wondering if Natalie had decided to share her bed with him, she studied the lump on the cot. There was no breathing movement at all.

Sister Agatha stepped over to the cot and lifted up the sheet. Instead of Natalie and Pax, the child’s clothes and her fancy doll, Regina, were arranged there in a humanlike form.

She’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Natalie and Pax were both gone. Her heart hammering at her throat, she turned on the lights. Sister Agatha frantically searched for a note and found one on the floor by the dresser, where it had probably been thrown when she’d lifted off the sheet. It was written on paper taken from one of the monastery’s memo pads. Sister Agatha read it.

There’s someplace Samara wants me to be tonight. Pax is coming with me. Don’t worry. We’ll be back soon.

Galvanized by fear, Sister Agatha ran to the phone. There was no time to lose. She had to call Sheriff Green and then let Reverend Mother know. After explaining to the desk sergeant what had happened and asking her to relay everything to Tom, Sister Agatha ran to Reverend Mother’s office.

The words tumbled out of her in a rush as she told the abbess, then added, “This is my fault. I should have seen this coming and never left Natalie alone.”

Reverend Mother’s face turned pale, but she remained outwardly calm. “This was not your fault. All our doors open from the inside. Our locks are meant to keep the world out, not to keep us in. You trusted her, that’s all. Pax will guard her as best he can, but you need to go and find her as quickly as possible.”

“She’s talked quite a bit about going to see her mom. She’s probably headed to the Far West Medical Center. The shortest route is down our road to the highway, then straight into town. I’ll check it out.” She turned to leave, then stopped and turned her head. “We should call Father Mahoney, too.”

“I’ll take care of that, child. You go search. I’ll wake all the sisters who aren’t already working in the kitchen and we’ll start a prayer vigil immediately. No help is more powerful than His.”

Sister Agatha hurried to the parlor, grabbed a jacket and the big flashlight, then said good-bye. It was a clear night, but the temperature was dropping quickly. For a brief moment she considered taking the Antichrysler. The monastery’s old station wagon would be warmer. But in cold weather it also had a tendency not to start up, and sometimes it needed to be coaxed to continue running.

She didn’t have time for that now. Moments later, she got underway on the Harley. Pax would do his best to protect Natalie, but the thought of the girl wandering about in the dark still terrified her.

Angry with herself, and knowing how vulnerable Natalie had become by leaving the relative safety of the monastery, Sister Agatha vowed not to return home without Natalie Tannen.

Reaching Bernalillo, Sister Agatha directed her search onto the shoulders of the road ahead. The ground was too hard to leave a trail, but she stayed alert for even a shadow of movement. The road contained some very old residences and a few small businesses. There was no sidewalk, just a low chain-link fence on both sides running nearly to the road. There were streetlights at the end of each block, but tall trees made the area dark and lonely looking, and only a few porch lights were on.

It wasn’t until she drove past the old graveyard at the south end of Bernalillo that she spotted a small figure moving directly ahead. Sister Agatha pressed the Harley for more speed, and a heartbeat later she heard Pax bark. He’d recognized the distinctive Harley engine instantly. As she pulled up, Pax was sitting on the right side of the road, tail wagging, happy to see her.

Natalie tried to hide behind a young elm, but Sister Agatha had already seen her. After giving Pax the command to jump into the sidecar, she turned off the engine.

“I know you’re standing behind the tree, Natalie, so you might as well come out,” Sister Agatha said gently, taking off her helmet.

Natalie stepped away from the tree, but didn’t move toward the motorcycle. “You can’t make me go back. Samara never lies and she said Mom needs me. Mom has to fight right now or she may never come back. Call the hospital. They’ll tell you.”

The intensity and emotion behind her words made Sister Agatha believe her. “I understand that you really want to see your mom but, Natalie, do you have any idea of how dangerous it is for you out here?”

“I was careful,” she said, “and I had Pax to protect me. Sister, unless you take me to see my Mom, I’ll just run away again.”

Looking at Natalie and hearing the desperation in her voice, Sister Agatha didn’t doubt it for a minute. “Okay. I’m going to talk to the sheriff. But first you have to come and sit in the sidecar with Pax while I let everyone know you’re safe.” She handed Natalie the spare helmet.

As she spoke to Tom and assured him that Natalie was fine, Sister Agatha caught a glimpse of something like a mist or maybe smoke directly behind Natalie. The second she turned her head to look at it squarely, it was gone. Sister Agatha rubbed her eyes, wondering if allergies were fogging her vision.

“You saw Samara, too, didn’t you?” Natalie said with a smile.

Natalie’s question unnerved her. “I saw a mist…no, smoke. I don’t know.”

Natalie looked disappointed, but then her face became set, determination shining in her eyes. “We have to go
now,
Sister.”

Realizing that Tom was still on the line, she nodded to Natalie and turned her attention back to him. “Natalie needs to see her mother tonight, Tom. If I take her back to the monastery, she’ll find a way to get out again. I think we should arrange for that visit right now. Preempting another attempt is the best way to protect her.”

“I’ll call the hospital right away and see how Jessica’s doing,” Tom answered. “Hang on.”

Sister Agatha glanced at Natalie. “We’re trying to work things out now.”

“Mom’s in trouble, Sister. I’m just supposed to talk to her, but maybe I can make her get better, too. Lots of people seem to think I can do that.”

“What if you try and she doesn’t get better? How will you feel then?”

“Disappointed. But I’ll know for sure then. And Samara says what’s most important now is that Mom hears my voice. I can do that at least.”

“Okay,” Tom said, coming back on the line. “The head nurse in ICU says that signs are there that suggest Jessica is trying to come out of the coma. But so far she hasn’t regained consciousness, and the longer she stays in that state, the more uncertain the prognosis. She’s also battling a secondary infection, so they have reason to be concerned.”

“We’re going to the hospital,” Sister Agatha said flatly.

“Okay, then here’s the deal,” Tom said. “I’ll meet you there, and we’ll go in through the side door. No stops along the way to ICU, and Natalie can only stay for a few minutes. Clear?”

“We’ll be there.”

13

S
ISTER AGATHA FOLLOWED TOM’S DIRECTIONS, AND AS SHE
pulled up to the side entrance, she found him seated on the steps, waiting as inconspicuously as possible.

“Hurry up,” he urged, coming out of the shadows to meet them. “Leave Pax in the sidecar and let’s get going.”

Urging Natalie to walk quickly, Sister Agatha stayed on her right while Tom remained a step ahead. Once inside, they went down a long, dark hallway that smelled of disinfectant. The lights were muted and the hospital was quiet now that visiting hours were over. As they hurried into the elevator and the doors slid shut, Sister Agatha caught a glimpse of a man wearing a blue Dallas Cowboys baseball cap standing by the soft drink machine. He seemed to be the only person around not wearing white.

The moment they reached the second floor, they continued down the corridor at a brisk pace and on through twin doors to a ward marked ICU. A tall, redheaded nurse came out from behind the nurses’ station.

“Mrs. Johnson,” Tom greeted her.

The nurse supervisor, according to her photo ID, crouched down in front of Natalie. “This is a very special favor, Natalie. We normally don’t allow anyone under the age of thirteen to come into this area— and never after hours. The only reason I’m allowing you to go in there is because your mom is fighting to wake up and, like you, I’m hoping that somehow she’ll hear your voice and that’ll help her find her way back. But don’t worry if we don’t see any changes right away. Your mom will need lots of time to get well again.”

Natalie nodded, then glanced back at Sister Agatha. “Will you come with me?”

Sister Agatha nodded, suddenly very afraid for Natalie. If a miracle occurred tonight and it turned out that Natalie had the gift of healing, then the girl’s childhood—what was left of it—would vanish in that one instant. But if nothing changed, Natalie would have to face the fact that neither she nor her angel had been able to help the person she loved most in the world.

Sister Agatha nodded to the uniformed deputy stationed by the door. He was short, broad, and built like a tree trunk with arms. More importantly for Jessica’s sake, he had the cop look—that unblinking gaze that went through you somehow and said “back off” without the need for words.

Sister Agatha walked behind Natalie as they passed other patients, and those awake and able to do so followed the girl with their eyes. Sister Agatha saw the spectrum of emotions Natalie inspired on their faces—acceptance, hope, fear, and even desperation.

She was suddenly reminded of how precious and how fragile the gift of health was. Here, Sister Agatha was once again face-to-face with mortality, and she had to resist the impulse to run away from this place that echoed with the pain of too many endings and lost second chances.

Mingled with the scent of antiseptics that filled the room were other odors—those of despair, and death. Sister Agatha knew it by heart. It had been indelibly etched into her memory during the long days and nights she’d sat by Kevin’s bedside, watching him slip away from this life. Her only comfort back then had come from the worn rosary she’d owned since her first communion.

Natalie went to her mother’s bedside, then took her hand and rested her head against Jessica’s side for a long time. After a while she rose on tiptoes and began whispering something in her mother’s ear. Her words were lost amidst the beeps and hums of the machines and the wheeze of respirators scattered around the unit.

Minutes passed slowly. When Tom signalled her, Sister Agatha placed a hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “Natalie, it’s time.”

Natalie hugged her mother then, and as she did, Sister Agatha saw movement behind Jessica’s closed eyelids. Signalling Mrs. Johnson, who came over immediately, Sister Agatha pointed down.

“Jessica’s fighting it,” the nurse agreed, “but she’s got a ways to go.”

Natalie let go of her mother, then looked at Sister Agatha. “Mom heard me,” she said with such conviction that none of them refuted it.

As Natalie turned to walk out of the ward some of the other patients reached out to her with their hands, or called to her softly. Natalie stopped by their beds and spoke to each, talking about her angel and telling them not to be afraid. Mrs. Johnson didn’t try to stop her, but remained close by, watching.

“That girl’s got a real gift,” Mrs. Johnson said to Sister Agatha in a whisper-soft voice.

“Not for healing. Her mom’s still in a coma,” Sister Agatha replied quickly, relieved for Natalie’s sake, yet disappointed for Jessica.

“Sometimes the best gift is the ability to bring hope. A few of the patients who reached out to her tonight have been so consumed by their own pain, they haven’t cared about anything or anyone for some time. But look at the way they respond to her,” the nurse said, watching Natalie as she held the hand of an elderly woman.

When they stepped back out into the hall, Tom was waiting. Anxious to leave, he led them quickly back down the hall. As they reached the elevator, Sister Agatha caught a glimpse of the same man she’d seen downstairs wearing the cap. Once again he was in the shadows, this time near a visitor’s waiting area at the end of the hall. As she turned to point him out to Tom, the man disappeared into the stairwell.

Uneasy, Sister Agatha pressed the elevator button so the doors would slide shut, and then told Tom, choosing her words carefully so as not to alarm Natalie.

“I’ll handle it. But now you and Natalie have to go home.” He paused. “I’ll have a deputy follow you from a distance, just to be safe.”

“Bad idea. The more attention you call to us, the worse off we’ll be. I’ll have Natalie duck down in the sidecar on the way back so no one sees her. And don’t worry. If I even think for a moment that someone’s following us, I’ll head straight for the station.”

“Okay, then get going. I’ll track down the man you saw,” he said as the elevator doors opened.

Sister Agatha led her charge back outside quickly to where Pax was waiting. As Natalie climbed into the sidecar, Sister Agatha handed her the helmet. “Now scrunch down like a turtle in its shell, because we don’t want anyone to see you, and hang on.”

Sister Agatha sped away from the hospital, staying on the main street. If she did pick up a tail, she’d have more maneuvering options. At first, she glanced back in her rearview mirror every few seconds. But after ten minutes, she relaxed. No one was behind her.

As they passed The Hog, the biker bar at the north end of town, she saw someone waving at her. When she waved back but didn’t slow down, the man let out a shrill whistle that managed to pierce even the deep rumble of the Harley. Pax jumped up instantly.

“Natalie, stay down,” Sister Agatha said quickly as she continued north. “A lot of people wave when they see me and Pax on the motorcycle. But we don’t want anyone to know I’ve got an extra passenger tonight.”

As she continued down the dark highway north of Bernalillo, she caught a glimpse of twin headlights in the rearview mirror. A car was quickly gaining on them.

Her heart began to hammer, and she reached toward the sidecar, handing Natalie the phone. “Press the number one,” she shouted so Natalie could hear. “Tell Sheriff Green someone’s following us.”

Sister Agatha turned down a farm road that she knew well, and the car behind them followed. She’d selected this route on purpose. The dirt road circled around, allowing her to reverse course without risking a confrontation with whoever was following. Reaching the highway again in two minutes, she pressed the bike for more speed. Her next stop would be the police station.

The headlights loomed behind them, so close that Sister Agatha couldn’t look in the rearview mirror without being blinded. As she slowed momentarily for a familiar bump in the pavement, the car behind them suddenly accelerated and pulled up right alongside her.

Clinging to the handlebars in a death grip, Sister Agatha turned her head to look at the driver. It was Chuck Moody—a young, local man she’d testified against in court two years ago on a hit-and-run charge. He’d been sent to prison, last she’d heard.

Moody waved at her and grinned widely. “Sister, it’s me, Chuck! Pull over!” he yelled out.

Before she could answer, he backed off, allowing her to continue and ducking back into the lane behind her motorcycle. Seconds later, red and blue flashing lights appeared just ahead of her on the road. A police cruiser was blocking her lane and another unit was coming up rapidly from behind them. Moody slowed and moved over to the side of the road.

“Natalie, stay down!” Sister Agatha yelled without turning her head, then pulled over to the shoulder and parked.

Moody, who’d parked some distance behind her, got out of his car with his hands up in the air. “Whoa!
What’s going on here?” Chuck’s straw-colored hair was already starting to thin though he couldn’t be more than twenty-three, and he had the reddish beginnings of a beard. “I was just trying to get Sister Agatha’s attention so I could talk to her.”

The deputy who’d pulled Moody over patted him down for weapons, then nodded to Tom. “He’s clean.”

“What did you want to talk to Sister Agatha about?” Tom demanded, walking up to Moody and shining his flashlight in the young man’s eyes.

“Okay, okay. Chill out. I’ll tell you. During the trial, when she testified against me, I said a lot of crap I shouldn’t have. But I’ve changed now—yeah really,” he said seeing the skeptical look on Tom’s face. “As corny as it sounds, I’ve been wanting to ask her to forgive me for what I said. I was hoping we could mend some fences here.”

He looked directly at Sister Agatha, who’d approached cautiously. “You helped me more than you know, Sister. I haven’t had a drink in over a year, and I’m finally getting my act together. I’ve got a job at the paper doing the editor’s legwork—you know, research, getting copies of county records, stuff like that. It doesn’t pay much, but I’m hoping for the chance to start writing copy in a few more months.”

Chuck looked at Sister Agatha with pleading eyes. “I just wanted to let you know you did a good thing. I’ve seen you around a few times, but my boss kept calling me away to do this or do that. Cell phones can be a curse.”

Seeing the dark red beat-up sedan he drove, Sister Agatha glared at him. “Chuck, you scared me half out of my wits! If I’d have known it was you all this time…”

“I really
am
sorry, Sister Agatha. But, listen, one of the things I wanted to tell you is that you can use my employee’s discount to place an ad in the paper. That way you can advertise the monastery’s cookies. I’ve heard the sisters are going into business now.”

“My mistake, Tom,” Sister Agatha said with a sigh. “Let him go.”

“Not quite yet,” Tom answered. “Mr. Moody, tell me where you were the night of the storm.”

“Easy. I was working with Janice Bose, my editor at the
Chronicle,
until nearly two in the morning. The wind blew a cottonwood branch through the office window. We spent hours shutting down and moving the computers, cleaning up the mess, and getting the system up again in the next room. The security guard helped us block out the rain with a sheet of plywood, but it was an all-nighter, Sheriff. You can check it out with Janice,” he said.

“I know Janice. I’ll check your story.”

“Sister Agatha,” Chuck said, turning to look at her, “I learned one big lesson in prison—I
never
want to go back again. If there’s anything I can do for you to make up for all the trouble I caused before, just let me know. From now on, I’m one of the good guys.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I’ll keep it in mind.” After shaking his hand, she glanced at Tom. “I’ve got to get back to the monastery. Everyone will be worried because I’ve been gone so long.”

“Go. Chuck and I are going to have a little talk about reckless driving.”

Sister Agatha hurried over to the Harley. Right now all she wanted to do was get Natalie home—safe.

Ten minutes later Sister Agatha stopped the Harley in front of the monastery gates and switched off the engine. “We’ll push the bike from here,” she said softly. “We don’t want to wake the sisters— if any of them actually managed to fall asleep.”

Natalie nodded, still downcast, but helped Sister Agatha push the motorcycle through the entrance and over to the parking area.

Pax beside them, they closed the gates and Sister Agatha locked up, noting that the girl hadn’t said a word since they’d left the hospital.

“Natalie, don’t be sad. You did a wonderful thing tonight. You may not realize it but you brought hope back into the lives of some of the patients in that ICU ward.”

“But I didn’t
do
anything,” she said.

“Yes, you did. When you told those people about your angel, you reminded them that there’s more to life than what you can see and touch. And by doing that, you healed their spirits. We all need to believe in something.”

“But that’s not enough. I wanted Mom to get up and walk out with me.”

“The fact that it didn’t happen may be a blessing in disguise, Natalie. When word gets around—and it will—that you can’t heal people, that will make things easier for you. People won’t be bothering you as much.”

When they entered the parlor, Sister Bernarda was waiting.

“Several sisters are still in the chapel praying. Let me go tell everyone you and Natalie are back safely.”

“Thank you,” Sister Agatha said. “While you’re doing that, I’ll get Natalie into bed.”

After making the girl promise that she’d never run away again, Sister Agatha turned off the lights and shut the door.

“I’ll stay with her now,” Sister Bernarda whispered, having returned.

Before Sister Agatha could answer, Reverend Mother came up to the grate. “Children, I’ve just received some exciting news. Jessica Tannen has regained consciousness. She’s still in serious condition and her memory is fuzzy, the way it can be with a mild stroke, but she’s finally opened her eyes and is apparently aware of her surroundings. Father Mahoney, who’s at the hospital now, called to give me the news.”

A sense of foreboding filled her. “Did he know that Natalie was there earlier?” Sister Agatha asked.

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