Prey for a Miracle (13 page)

“Yes, and he wasn’t very happy when he heard,” she said. “But he’s sure that Natalie won’t be credited with a miracle. Her mother is still very confused and is having trouble processing any kind of information. And one of the patients Natalie touched passed away not long after she left. Under those unhappy circumstances, I don’t think anyone’s going to credit her with the gift of healing.” Reverend Mother exhaled softly. “Get some sleep, children. Matins will ring soon enough.”

The abbess moved away with scarcely a sound and Sister Agatha peeked in one last time to check on Natalie. The girl was sound asleep, Pax on the floor beside her. Envying the young for their ability to fall instantly asleep, Sister Agatha left Sister Bernarda in charge, and went to her cell.

The next morning, following the Divine Office, Sister Agatha escorted Natalie to the crafts room. The girl had already been given the good news about her mother and was in bright spirits. “Will you be all right with Sister Ignatius? I need to go back to town and spend a few hours there.”

“Sure, Sister Agatha. Will you be stopping by to see my mom?”

“If I get a chance.”

“If you do, tell her I miss her, okay?”

“I will, but she may be asleep—regular sleep—when I get there. Her body is still trying to recover and she needs lots of rest.”

“Samara was right, you know. Mom needed me to tell her that it wasn’t time for her to go to heaven.”

“You wished with all your heart that she’d get well and your prayer went straight to God. You received a blessing, so be sure to say thank you.”

“I will, but how come God doesn’t always hear me when I pray?” Natalie asked softly. “Ever since I can remember I’ve been praying really hard that my dad would come back to us, but nothing ever happens. He wouldn’t have to live with us, either. All I want is to meet him for real.”

“I’ll tell you something I learned a long time ago. You have to trust God all the way, Natalie—when he says yes and when he says no.”

Natalie nodded, but didn’t answer.

“I mentioned this once before, but think about it real hard. Did your mom ever talk to you about your dad?” Sister Agatha knew that she was probably grasping at straws, but she had to ask.

Natalie shook her head this time. “When I ask about him Mom gets really upset and tells me that God is my father. That’s why I used to make up stories about my dad whenever my friends talked about their dads. I told Marcie and Louann that he was an undercover cop and couldn’t come to see us because then the bad guys would know where we live. But Marcie’s mom told her that my dad was no good, had even been in jail, and that I’d made up the whole thing. Then Marcie told everyone else at school. I never talked about him anymore after that—except to Samara.”

Sister Agatha wondered what Henry Tannen had done that had led to his incarceration, and decided to ask Tom about that sometime soon.

Seeing them at the doorway of the crafts room, Sister Ignatius smiled and held out a ceramic angel. “Sister Agatha, look what Natalie made for our Christmas bazaar. It just came out of the oven a while ago, but it’s cool enough to handle,” she added, gesturing to the ancient oven in the corner. These days it only handled the higher temperatures well, which was why Sister Clothilde hadn’t even attempted to bake cookies in it. “Good thing these special polymer clays don’t require a kiln. The electricity bill alone would have made it impossible for us to do any ceramics.”

Sister Agatha turned the sculpture around in her hands, looking at the blues and soft lavenders she’d used for the angel’s robes and the shimmery soft cream color that tinted the wings. “It’s beautiful, Natalie!”

“Thank you, Sister Agatha.” Natalie walked toward the table, then stopped and turned to look at Sister Agatha. “Samara says to tell you that you don’t need to worry about the down payment for the roof. The money will come in.”

Sister Agatha and Sister Ignatius exchanged a quick glance. Natalie hadn’t been told that the down payment had been a problem, though she might have guessed from their active campaign to raise money.

The girl took a seat and begun working with the clay as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Oh, and Sister Agatha, you promised you’d go get Gracie. Since you’re going to town, will you stop by my house and bring her to me today? She’s on my bed.”

“I’ll try, Natalie.”

Sister Agatha walked to the kitchen next to see if the shipment of cookies was ready to be taken to Smitty’s. Seeing her arrive, Sister Clothilde led her to the provisory. Ten large boxes had been packed, labeled, and stacked.

“That’s a lot bigger load than I’d envisioned. Even with the car, I think I’ll have to leave Pax behind.” As Sister Agatha picked up one of the boxes, Sister Gertrude and Sister Maria Victoria appeared almost instantly to help, each taking another container. They walked across the corridor and stopped in front of the grate. That was as far as the cloistered sisters could go.

“Set these boxes down, go get the others, and I’ll take them all from here, Sisters. Thank you so much,” Sister Agatha added.

Sister Bernarda and Sister de Lourdes helped her load the boxes into the Antichrysler.

As Sister de Lourdes went back inside, Sister Bernarda gave Sister Agatha a hesitant look. “Do you think people will spend their hard-earned money to buy our Cloister Cluster Cookies?”

Sister Agatha nodded. “They’re an inexpensive indulgence, and everyone has to eat. I think they’ll do well.”

“A big win would certainly boost morale after all the long hours and hard work the sisters put in,” Sister Bernarda said.

“Maybe Natalie’s angel will come through for us,” Sister Agatha said with a half smile, then told Sister Bernarda about the prediction made in the crafts room.

“Whether or not you choose to believe in Natalie’s angel, the fact remains that Natalie’s predictions have been pretty accurate so far,” Sister Bernarda said.

“Which brings up another point. If the angel is the product of her imagination, then it’s very possible that Natalie has a gift for foretelling events.”

“Interesting point,” Sister Bernarda said slowly.

“Just speculation.” Sister Agatha switched on the ignition, and after two attempts the engine finally caught. Nodding to Sister Bernarda, who gave her a thumbs-up, she set off for town.

S
ISTER AGATHA SAID A PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING WHEN
she finally arrived at Smitty’s Grocery. At least three times on her way into town, she’d been certain that the Antichrysler was wheezing its last breath.

“Good morning, Sister!” Smitty greeted her with a wave as she backed into a parking slot. “I see you’ve got my shipment.”

As Smitty carried in the carton to stock his shelves, Sister Agatha walked to the front of the store. Beneath the window was a coffee counter and several small tables for patrons. Sheriff Green was seated by himself, sipping coffee from a big foam cup.

As she approached, Sister Agatha saw the growth of stubble on his chin that told her he hadn’t been home since yesterday. “Tom, you look awful,” she said.

“Gee, such flattery. I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve been up all night.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Seeing her puzzled expression, he added, “Someone tried to kidnap Jessica Tannen last night long after Natalie left.”

“Is Jessica all right?”

“Yes, the perp never reached her.”

“I can’t think of anyone big enough or tough enough to get past the officer you had on duty.”

“They didn’t, which is why the attempt didn’t succeed. The guy popped out from behind the door when Bobby, my deputy, went to check on an open window beside Jessica’s bed. The perp cracked him on the head, but Bobby didn’t go down completely. He was groggy, but still managed to stop the lowlife from taking Jessica. Good thing Bobby’s head is as hard as steel.”

“You have the suspect in custody?” Sister Agatha asked quickly.

“No, he got away. All we know is that he was about Bobby’s height—which puts him at five foot seven—and was wearing a Dallas Cowboys baseball cap. He might be the same guy you saw at the hospital earlier.”

“You never saw him?”

He shook his head, reached for the coffee, and took a sip. “I wanted to take Jessica out of the hospital today, but the doctors strongly advised against it. So we now have two guards posted there and I’m still no closer to catching the perp than I was when this thing started.”

“Has Jessica been any help—about the intruder, or about the accident?

“No. I tried talking to her several times, but she’s still too unfocused. Not all of her is back, if you catch my meaning. She just can’t remember anything from one moment to the next—including my questions. The doctors are pretty optimistic about her eventual recovery, but I can’t wait around for weeks for the case to break. I need answers now if I’m going to catch that guy.”

“What about the hospital security system? Was the intruder caught on video?”

“The cameras are only for the exits and the front desk. Nothing on the second floor at all. I’ve got a deputy going over the tapes a third time, but it looks like the intruder saw the cameras and kept his head down.”

“That’s a tough break. Is there anything I can do?”

“Maybe,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’ve questioned the people Jessica works with at Grayson Construction, and I’m getting bad vibes. They’re holding something back, I can feel it in my gut. I hauled them in separately, but I still didn’t get anywhere. My guess is that they’re afraid of losing their jobs.” He rubbed his eyes, then took another sip of coffee.

“If they’re afraid of losing their jobs, that tends to point the arrows at their boss.”

“I’ve done background checks on the four of them, and that includes Jessica, but they’re all clean. My hands are tied at this point.”

“Let me check with Smitty to make sure our business is concluded, then I’ll go over there and see what I can do,” Sister Agatha said softly.

Leaving Smitty’s five minutes later, Sister Agatha drove directly to the offices of Grayson Construction. As she stepped inside the reception area, a young brunette sitting at the front desk looked up. “May I help you, Sister?”

Sister Agatha introduced herself then added, “I’m a friend of Jessica Tannen’s. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about her.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” she said hesitantly. “What do you want to know?”

“Did Jessica have a best friend here in the office?” Sister Agatha asked.

The woman cast a nervous glance at the hallway behind Sister Agatha, then answered quickly. “We work so hard here, we don’t have time to socialize much. Of course we talk during our breaks but that’s about it, unless it’s work related.”

A tall man wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a bolo tie came through the front door. “I’m Joseph Carlisle, the office manager,” he said, looking directly at Sister Agatha. “I couldn’t help but overhear your question as I was coming up the hall. Jessica Tannen’s auto accident is a matter for the police, or her lawyers. It doesn’t concern Grayson Construction and is certainly
not
the business of Our Lady of Hope Monastery.”

Carlisle looked at the receptionist. “If you don’t have work to do, Cathy, I’m sure I can find something. Sister is just leaving.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, Mr. Carlisle,” Sister Agatha said stiffly, although Carlisle had already turned his back to her and was walking away. “But you don’t have to take it out on this young woman,” she added loudly so he’d hear.

“I’m sorry about that, Sister,” Cathy said, an angry look on her face. “He can be a real pain sometimes,” she added in a whisper-soft voice.

As she walked out, Sister Agatha had the impression that the receptionist might be more willing to talk to her if she could manage to catch her away from the office.

Sister Agatha drove back to the sheriff’s station, and as she pulled into the parking lot, the Antichrysler backfired loudly. One deputy near the entrance spun around, automatically reaching for his gun, while two officers near their units ducked down and peered over the engine blocks.

Sister Agatha got out and gave them all a sheepish smile. “Please, shoot this car. It would be a merciful death.”

Before she’d taken another step, Tom came out the door in a hurry, his hand over his holstered weapon. Realizing what had happened from the acrid smell of burning oil and the blue smoke still in the air, he relaxed. “How did it go at Grayson Construction?” he asked, leading her back inside.

“I didn’t get anywhere,” she said as soon as he’d shut the door to his office. “Joseph Carlisle showed up and wouldn’t let the receptionist talk to me about Jessica. In fact, he insisted I leave. But I think the girl, Cathy, will talk to me if I can catch her someplace else. Carlisle really…ticked her off.”

“If you manage to talk to her, let me know.”

“You’ve got it.” Sister Agatha lowered her voice, then continued. “I really need permission to go by Jessica’s home again. Natalie likes the doll you picked out for her, but she really wants me to bring her favorite one. She keeps asking me to get it for her, and I can’t keep putting her off.”

“If someone sees you with the doll…”

“I know. That’s why I thought I’d go to the hospital straight from Jessica’s. If anyone sees me carrying a bag out of the house and follows me, they’ll just assume I went to get a few things for her.”

He nodded. “Good strategy. And if you manage to get anything out of Jessica that makes sense, especially concerning the attempted kidnapping or the accident, let me know.”

“Of course. Shall I check her mail and things like that while I’m at her house?”

“That’s a good idea. If you see anything from her ex-husband Henry Tannen, call me,” he said, giving her the key Father Mahoney had left with the department. “I’ve been trying to get an address for him, but so far all my leads have fizzled out. I’ve had a lot of problems cutting through the red tape, too. I can’t even get a mug shot.”

“He served time, correct?”

“Yeah, but I don’t have any details yet. Have you been able to learn anything about him from Natalie—maybe something she heard from her mother?”

She told him what Natalie had said. “Do you want me to ask Father Mahoney?”

Tom shook his head. “I’ve already done that. When I brought up the subject of Jessica’s ex, I thought he was going to rip the arms off his chair. I got the feeling Father Mahoney would be more than willing to tie all of Henry Tannen’s limbs into one big knot if they ever meet again.”

“Father Mahoney is normally a gentle giant, but Jessica
is
his sister.” Sister Agatha stood. “I better get going. I’ve got a lot of things I need to get done before I head back home.” Sister Agatha went outside to the parking lot and started the Antichrysler. Another explosive backfire shattered the morning calm, but this time no one even flinched.

A short time later, she pulled into Jessica’s driveway. It was a good thing she was going to the hospital next. Subterfuge was impossible when driving a car that sounded like a tank under heavy artillery fire.

Esther Reinhart waved from her window and Sister Agatha smiled back, then ducked under the police tape and headed to the door, stopping by the mailbox first. It was stuffed to the brim, so after picking the bundle up, she unlocked the door and went inside.

Sister Agatha dropped the mail on the kitchen table and walked down the hall. As she entered Natalie’s room, she saw the girl’s beloved toys strewn on the floor, her clothes scattered everywhere, and two bookcases overturned. Remembering Natalie’s description, Sister Agatha searched the floor for the angel doll called Gracie. She found several rag dolls, angel bears, and even a cow angel, but no Gracie.

Seeing more toys near the closet door, Sister Agatha searched the pile there. Gracie was at the bottom. There was no mistaking her. The rag doll’s smudged face was so ugly it was actually cute. She wore a pale yellow robe with a rope belt. Attached to that was a small leather pouch—representing a purse—with the word “Gracie” in glitter script.

Putting the doll beneath one arm, she went to Jessica’s bedroom and picked up a nightgown. She then placed both items inside a grocery sack she found in the kitchen, nightgown on top, in case anyone took a look inside.

On her way back out, she stopped at the kitchen table and sifted through the letters and flyers. Besides the usual round of bills, there were dozens of letters hand-addressed to Natalie. From the angel drawings and stickers on the outside, she guessed that they were appeals and petitions for the girl’s help. One of the last envelopes in the stack had come from Joey Rubio.

It wasn’t her business to open it, but knowing what she already did about Joey’s missing daughter, she telephoned Tom and told him about it. “Joey is one of our roofers, Tom,” she reminded.

“Open it and read it to me. I’ve got Father Mahoney’s standing permission to enter the house and do whatever I need, so we’re covered.”

She read him the letter, an obvious cry for help from a man with one goal that kept him going from one day to the next—finding his child.

After Sister Agatha was finished, silence stretched out on the line between them. “I’ll have a talk with Rubio,” he said at last. “But let me handle this. Natalie is being kept away from the windows and areas where she might be seen by the workmen, right?”

“We’ve done our level best but nothing’s foolproof.”

“I have the option of pulling her out of the monastery and putting her in protective custody in another community, but Father Ma-honey’s against that idea. He’s sure she’ll run away.”

“She might. But Joey sounds pretty desperate in this letter, Tom.”

“Let me check out something else.” She heard a rustle of paper then Tom back on the line. “According to my deputy’s report, he couldn’t have been the phony nun—his whereabouts that day are accounted for. But I’ll go see if he has an alibi for the night Jessica’s car was run off the road.”

“I’m still going by the hospital to see Jessica before going home. Maybe she’s lucid enough now to be able to help.”

When she finally reached the hospital, Sister Agatha took Gracie out of the grocery sack. Pushing her quickly beneath the seat, Sister Agatha locked the car and walked to the hospital entrance carrying the bag containing Jessica’s nightgown.

Mrs. Johnson, the ICU nurse she’d met earlier, greeted her. “Are you looking for Jessica, Sister?”

She nodded. “I brought her some nightclothes.”

“We were able to move her out of ICU. She’s in the last room down this hall on your right. You’ll see the officers. But if you’re not expected, I doubt you’ll get in.”

“The sheriff knew I was coming,” she said. “How’s Jessica doing, by the way? Will I be able to talk to her for a bit?”

“She’ll know you’re there, but things are very confusing to her right now, an effect of the stroke that followed her initial trauma.”

Sister Agatha hurried down the hall. Nodding to the officers, who recognized her immediately, she went inside. The room held three beds, but only one was occupied. Jessica lay still, her eyes closed and her face pale, even in the subdued light. A monitor had been taped to her finger and the machine to her right beeped in steady rhythm.

Sister Agatha approached quietly, but as she reached the chair next to the bed, Jessica opened her eyes.

“Do you remember me, Jessica?” Sister Agatha asked softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

Jessica’s stare was vacant. Sister Agatha wasn’t even sure she’d heard her, but when she repeated the question, she got the same response.

“I brought one of your nightgowns,” she said, showing it to her, then hanging it up in the closet when Jessica didn’t react.

“Natalie is in good hands,” Sister added, hoping to elicit some reaction.

“Natalie,” Jessica repeated in an unsteady voice.

Sister Agatha saw a glimmer of recognition in Jessica’s eyes, but in a heartbeat it was gone.

A young nurse came into the room and smiled at Sister Agatha, then at Jessica.

“You’re doing so much better!” she told Jessica cheerfully.

Sister Agatha studied the nurse’s expression, trying to decide if she’d really meant what she’d said or if it had been simply for her patient’s benefit.

“She really is, you know,” the nurse said as if she’d read Sister Agatha’s mind. “There’s still swelling in parts of her brain, but that’ll come down. Before you know it, she’ll be back to her old self.”