Sister Eve and the Blue Nun (17 page)

Eve felt her face redden and she quickly glanced down. When she looked back up, Boots was gone and Detective Lujan was watching her. “Well, it sounds like you've got some phone work to do this morning,” she said, hoping to make an exit without any more questions.

“Why do I get the feeling that you know more than you're letting on?” he asked. “The letter from the brother . . . being in the abbot's room after we were called . . . now out here with the victim's . . .” He paused. “Colleague.”

She immediately started shaking her head. “I wouldn't know why you have that feeling, Detective,” she said, trying to give a smile for reassurance.

Before Officer Lujan could ask something else, another guest came out of his room, pulling a suitcase. As he got closer to them, he stopped and turned to look behind him in the direction of the crime scene. He let go of his bag.

“It's a real shame this happened,” he said. “I was just talking to
Dr. Middlesworth last evening, and now . . .” He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “You just never know, do you?”

Eve reached out and touched the man on his arm. “This is a terrible day,” she said.

He glanced down, nodding. “Yes, yes,” he replied.

“Drive safely to your home,” Eve said with a tenderness in her voice. “And may God bless you.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Thank you, Sister,” he said and then continued walking toward the parking lot.

Eve and Detective Lujan watched as he opened the trunk of his car, threw his suitcase in, closed it, and headed to the driver's side.

“Frequent guest here at the monastery?” the officer asked.

She shook her head as if to say she didn't understand the question.

“He called you Sister and yet you're not wearing your habit.” He paused and still she said nothing. “No robe, no veil. I didn't know you're a nun when I met you, so he must know you live here, right? And you do live here? Right? For now, I mean?”

Eve glanced over as the man drove past them out of the parking lot and toward the monastery's main gate. “We met earlier in the week.” She hesitated. “And I have lived here for twenty years,” she answered, not giving anything away.

TWENTY-FIVE

Eve headed to the main office, wondering if she should have set the detective straight and explained that she was in the discernment process about being a nun. In fact, she was a little surprised that she hadn't told him, hadn't just made the announcement to him that she wasn't sure she wanted to be in a religious community any longer. But she was still confused and she didn't want to say that out loud, and she certainly didn't want to say it to a stranger.

She gave the matter no more thought, knowing she had other things more pressing to handle. She wanted to check the room assignments to see who had reserved the room next to the victim, and she also hoped to find Daniel to let him know about her encounter with the two married professors from Texas. If there were ever two likely suspects, she thought, those two fit the mold for sure. She was sure that he would be interested in the conversations, and she also wanted to make sure that she asked him about the tox screen results. Perhaps, if she knew the exact nature of the
poison used to kill Dr. Middlesworth, she would be able to find out if any such ingredients could be found elsewhere on the monastery property.

When she arrived through the front door, there didn't appear to be anyone around, and she wondered if Brother Xavier, the monk assigned to greet visitors and help with accommodations for guests, had gone to the chapel to make preparations for midday prayer. As she glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby, the main phone began ringing. With no one else there, Eve did what she had done for years when she lived at the monastery: she walked around the desk to answer it.

“Our Lady of Guadalupe,” she said into the receiver.

“I'd like to speak to Father Oliver,” a faint voice from the other end responded.

Eve glanced down at the phone but immediately noticed that it was a different system from the one she was accustomed to using. Without knowing how to put the caller on hold, she responded, “I will try and find him for you.” She searched the desk for a pen and paper.

“May I tell him who is calling?” She started to write, but there was a click and the line was dead.

“Well, I guess I won't,” she replied to no one.

The phone started to ring again, and Eve suddenly understood why the monk responsible for the front desk had left. She let the call roll over to voice mail and looked down both halls, wondering then where everyone had gone. In addition to the phone ringing off the hook, she also realized that once the conference had been canceled, there would be a lot of work that had to be done. With so
many registered guests leaving, all of the rooms would have to be cleaned and financial adjustments would need to be made for those requesting reimbursements.

New arrangements would likely need to be made for media and law enforcement officers if they intended to stay on campus. With so many things up in the air, she assumed that somewhere on the premises the monks had likely gathered in a private meeting to go over tasks that would need to be delegated and concerns that would need to be addressed. She could only imagine what a nightmare this was going to be for the entire staff, and she was glad that she was here and in a position to help.

With no one around to stop her, Eve simply made herself at home, taking the chair behind the front desk and booting up the computer. She hoped the monks hadn't made a change and that she still knew the correct password to unlock the screen and how to open the reservation program they used to assign guest rooms. She was reaching for the keyboard to start her search when she heard raised voices coming from down the hall. She tried to focus but eventually became too curious to stay where she was and got up from her seat, heading in the direction of where she had heard the noise.

Down the hall, she could see that there appeared to be five or six men gathered near the door of Father Oliver's office. Their voices were loud enough so that even standing where she was, she could hear some of the conversation.

“We have the right to speak to him,” one of the men was saying.

Eve thought she heard Father Oliver make a response, but he was not talking as loudly as the visitors. Unable to hear him, she moved closer.

“He has something that does not belong to him,” another of the men remarked.

As Eve got a better view, none of those standing in the door appeared familiar to her. They varied in age and size, but she could see those with gray hair were standing near the abbot's desk, and those with darker hair, the younger men it appeared, were gathered behind them. They were all dressed in jeans, long-sleeved shirts, and cowboy boots. She could see them only from behind, but it was clear that they were quite concerned about something.

“He stole from us. He came under the auspices of helping us restore the church and instead he took what wasn't his.”

Eve could see around the men and noticed Father Oliver sitting behind his desk. His hands were clasped before him and he continued to speak, but she still couldn't hear the reply.

There were more comments from the elder visitors, and as Eve tried to get a better look, she could see that a priest was in the center of the gathering, standing directly in front of Father Oliver, not a monk from the monastery, but a parish priest, a short man dressed in black, his hair pulled back into a tight braid. When she heard his voice, she recognized him as Father Jonas, the priest to some of the Pueblos in the area. She remembered having met him on several occasions when he came to Pecos on retreat. He was cheerful and personable, and she had always enjoyed his visits.

Father Jonas was born and raised in Mexico, attended seminary there, and had told her once that he had always intended to serve in his home country. Once he had been assigned to the Pueblos, however, he never wanted to leave New Mexico, never wanted to leave this ministry. She remembered how passionate he was about the
Native American Catholics, how deeply he felt for the parishioners living on the reservations. He had served the people of the Sandia and the Isleta Pueblos for years, choosing to make his home with them instead of in Albuquerque with the other priests. He and Eve had spoken numerous times about his deep respect and love for the people in his care.

Eve tried to make out what he was saying, but he was speaking more softly than the others, so she crept even closer to hear.

“I did not know of it until this morning,” the priest said, the gentle accent still evident in his English. “We found the letter in the church. One of the deacons was changing the altar cloths and found it under the antependium.”

Eve knew he was speaking of the cloths on the altar, one of which was known as the frontal cloth. She guessed that someone was making changes for the upcoming season of Lent, changing the colors from the white of Epiphany to the purple intended to be used for the forty days prior to Easter. She strained to hear more.

The priest was apparently reading the letter and she couldn't make out everything he was saying, but from what she could hear, it seemed pretty clear that the letter was written by Anthony, another letter of confession, another missal meant to explain his actions and his resolve to find and return the writings he had stolen.

“I have participated in a grave and sinful act, and I am prepared to suffer the consequences for this commission. I bear the guilt alone and recognize that I have brought great shame down upon my brothers and my father at Our Lady of Guadalupe. I will seek the guidance of Sister Maria. I will make things right.”

She couldn't make out the closing remarks, but she could see
and hear Father Jonas as he folded up the letter. “Where is the young man?” he asked.

Eve understood from the conversation she was overhearing that Anthony had left the monastery sometime after his sister's murder and made his way to Isleta to leave this letter for the priest to find. She leaned in, waiting to hear the abbot's reply.

“
What are you doing?
”

The question whispered into her ear startled her so much that when Eve swung around, she landed a punch right in the man's belly.

TWENTY-SIX

“Holy . . .” Daniel doubled over. “Why would you hit me so hard?”

“Why would you sneak up on me like that?”

She glanced behind her and saw that several of the men at Father Oliver's door had turned and were staring in their direction. She started walking toward the front desk, pulling Daniel along by the front of his shirt. “Oh, for heaven's sake . . . Man up! It didn't hurt you that much.”

They rounded the corner.

He stood up with his hands on his hips. “You're right. You punch like a girl.”

She flinched like she might hit him again, and he quickly reacted with the defensive move of crossing his arms in front of him.

She immediately laughed. “Some cop you are,” she said.

“And some nun you are,” he replied. “Okay, what's going on back there?” He motioned to the area down the hall.

She took the seat behind the desk. “What makes you think I know what's going on back there?”

Daniel gave her a look of disbelief. “Evangeline Divine,” was all he said, clearly not falling for her innocent act.

“Fine,” she replied. “Apparently it's the elders from Isleta,” she said. “They're not very happy with us here at the monastery.”

He waited.

“It appears as if Brother Anthony left them a letter too,” she explained. “The writings that Kelly Middlesworth had, they came from Isleta; that's where Anthony found them, in the pueblo church. I guess they know they're missing, which means they knew what they had, which means Anthony didn't really discover them. They had already been discovered and were kept hidden.” She was starting to sort through this bit of new information herself.