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Authors: Aimée Thurlo

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BOOK: The Prodigal Nun
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Christy nodded, but Sister Agatha saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

“But what were you doing back there, Sister?” Christy pressed.

“I was walking the dog down the easement. You can’t tell where the property lines are, but I figured we were okay, not bothering anyone. Then Pax saw the snake…”

Christy sighed long and loud. “I’ve been saving up to get myself a fence, but every time I think I’ve got the cash, I get hit by a bill I wasn’t expecting.”

Sister Agatha nodded sympathetically. “We understand, believe me.”

“Where did the snake come from?” Christy asked Sister Bernarda after a beat.

“Maybe through the culvert from the drainage ditch. I’m not sure. It crossed right in front of us. I saw movement in the grass, and then the dog took off. I never saw what he was after until it slithered into the garage.”

Christy shuddered.

“Who’s doing animal control duty these days?” Sister Bernarda asked, still watching the snake. Although it had stopped rattling, it remained coiled, its tongue testing the air.

“Al Marrow,” Sister Agatha answered. “He’s the one who handled that problem with the coyote a few weeks back.”

Al, wearing his khaki uniform shirt and blue jeans, arrived within ten minutes of the call in the county’s animal control truck. He was a thin, wiry man with a grim expression, a rough complexion, and numerous tattoos on his arms. Although he looked like a long-term inmate of a state prison, Sister Agatha knew that beneath the gruff exterior beat a very gentle heart.

He nodded to the ladies, then took a look. “Hmm. Western rattlesnake, about average size, maybe four feet. Notice the dark splotches? A western diamondback has those splotches outlined in a pale color.”

“Thanks for the Animal Planet moment, Al. Can you just get it out of my garage?” Christy asked.

Al chuckled. “I charge ten dollars a foot, Christy. That comes to forty-five dollars.”

Christy looked at him with narrowed eyes.

Al laughed. “Okay, just a joke. It’ll take a few minutes, though. I don’t want it to get behind something big and heavy like your washing machine.”

“What’s going to happen to it?” Sister Agatha.

“After I capture it with a loop, I’ll release it in the bosque away from any homes. Even a rattler has its place in God’s plan, Sister.”

Before long, the snake was secure in a burlap sack and Al was on his way.

Once they were back in the Antichrysler and on their way, Sister Agatha was finally free to speak. “That rattler was a godsend. It gave you a perfect way to cover your tracks.”

“You’re right,” Sister Bernarda agreed. “What you don’t know is that we were already inside the garage checking out the bike when we found the rattler. As it turns out, the bike was an
old model with flat tires,
not
the one stolen from Louis. Anyway, Pax went berserk.”

Sister Agatha nodded. “He does that. And he knocked down the tools?”

Sister Bernarda gave her a sheepish smile. “Actually, no. My habit got caught on the bench when Pax tugged at the leash, and when I pulled free it all came tumbling down.”

“You certainly had an exciting time. Did you find anything besides the serpent and the wrong bike?”

She nodded. “Something interesting, though it wasn’t inside the garage. I spotted something dangling from the outside phone connection on the Sanchez house, so we went up to take a closer look. There was a wire attached there, with one of those double phone jacks at one end. I think that may have been where an outside phone or bug was attached, but only an expert would know for sure.”

“When Jane was on the phone talking to me, she was afraid she’d be overheard,” Sister Agatha said. “We’ll have to tell the sheriff what we’ve learned, including the part about those missing memo pads.” She filled Sister Bernarda in on what she didn’t already know.

They’d brought the cell phone, so while Sister Bernarda drove, Sister Agatha told Sheriff Green what she’d learned.

“The information about the memo pads is definitely interesting,” he said, “but it’s the kind of negative evidence that doesn’t really prove anything. What I’m going to do now is send an officer over there to check out their phone and pick up that extra connection.”

Sister Agatha’s and Sister Bernarda’s next stop was the pharmacy. While Sister Bernarda waited for their order to be filled, Sister Agatha went to talk to the clerk stocking the shelves. Silvia Pike had attended St. Charles, and Sister Agatha
remembered her well. She’d been devout but had also been a relentless gossip. These days Silvia had become a good source, since her information always proved reliable.

When Sister Agatha greeted her, Silvia’s eyes grew bright and she smiled. “Sister Agatha, it’s so good to see you again! I loved reading that newspaper article in the
Chronicle
last year about how you helped the sheriff catch a killer. I bet you’ve got your hands full now, too, with everyone wondering if it’s safe to go to Mass with a robber and killer hanging around. Have you received any more threats?”

“We have police protection at the monastery now,” Sister Agatha said, not answering her directly. “Tell me, did you know the victim?”

“Jane? Sure, she used to come in here all the time,” she said, barely taking a breath. “Louis, too. I don’t recall ever seeing them apart.”

Except on Sunday, Sister Agatha added silently. “She didn’t trust him, or vice versa?” she probed gently.

“Ah, you must have heard the rumor about his neighbor. Well, don’t believe it. Jane would have known if something had been going on. Anyway, Louis isn’t the kind to stray. He allowed himself to be led around because he really did love Jane. That’s my take on it.”

“How do you think the rumor got started, then?” Sister Agatha asked.

“I’m not really sure, but you could ask Betty Malone. She’s one of Louis’s neighbors, and that woman doesn’t miss much. She’s the president of their neighborhood watch association for a reason.”

Sister Agatha made a mental note to pay Betty a visit. “How well do you know Louis, Silvia?”

“Just enough to say hello whenever he came in with Jane.
But I’ve been friends with their daughter, Evelyn, for years. Evelyn hated Jane. She wasn’t even on speaking terms with her half the time. I’ve got to tell you,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning closer to Sister Agatha, “if Evelyn had discovered that her dad
was
having an affair, she would have jumped for joy.”

That was certainly an interesting perspective. “Why did Evelyn hate Jane so much? Do you know?” Sister Agatha asked, already knowing that the adoption had been an issue of contention.

“All I can tell you is that I saw firsthand how controlling Jane was back when Ev and I were still in high school. I particularly remember one shouting match out in their front yard. The whole neighborhood must have heard that one. Ev had come home an hour later than her curfew, and Jane went through the roof. She told Ev that she was behaving like a slut and she regretted the day she’d adopted her. What made it even worse is that we were there—me and Allison Williams.”

“Do you know if Jane really felt that way?”

“I always thought the real issue was that Evelyn was growing up and trying to become a little more independent. But that kind of argument was nothing in comparison to what came later, after Evelyn married Gerry.”

“What happened then?”

“Jane did
everything
she could to try to break them up. Gerry doesn’t take lip from anyone, so from day one he argued right back. Things never got any better. Jane would start with the bad-mouthing the second she saw them, telling Evelyn that she’d married a total loser.”

“But surely Jane accepted him once the couple had their daughter, right?”

“Didn’t seem like it to me, Sister. Just last week, maybe Tuesday, Jane and Louis came here to the drugstore, and she was
dissing Gerry to him. Louis looked really embarrassed because he knew I could hear, but Jane just kept running Gerry down. She insisted that Gerry was cheating on Evelyn.”

Seeing Sister Bernarda was through at the counter, Sister Agatha knew it was time to go. “It was good talking to you, Silvia,” she said, meaning every word.

Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda hurried back out to the Antichrysler. It was a beautiful, cool, spring day, so Pax had waited for them with all the windows rolled down, under the shade of the store awning. Once they were on their way, he stuck his head out, loving the blast of air that hit his face as they traveled back to the monastery.

“If Jane thought Gerry was messing around, that could have been what she wanted to talk to me about,” Sister Agatha told Sister Bernarda on their way home. “The problem with gossip is that I don’t have any evidence to back it up, and the sheriff is going to need more than hearsay.”

“You should probably still tell the sheriff so he can follow it up if he feels it necessary, don’t you think?”

Sister Agatha nodded, then brought out the cell phone and made the call.

Twenty minutes later, they were back home with the medications. Pax had gone into the inner courtyard to play alone with his favorite rope toy, tossing it into the air or shaking it.

While Sister Bernarda met with Sister Eugenia, Sister Agatha stopped by the chapel to pray for guidance. Turning to the Lord, she placed the matter in His hands, then, with all the love in her heart, focused solely on Him.

Sister Agatha came back out of the chapel some time later, her spirit renewed, and headed to the parlor. She was halfway
down the hall when she saw Sister Bernarda hurrying to meet her.

“Have you seen Pax?” Sister Bernarda asked quickly.

“Not since we returned. He went outside to play with his rope, remember?”

“Sister Clothilde had a treat for him, but she couldn’t find the old guy anywhere.”

Alarmed, Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda went to the parlor, where they found Sister de Lourdes.

“Have you seen Pax?” Sister Agatha asked her quickly.

“Yes, he went with Sister Jo in the Harley. She got a call from a Mr. Stevens, who asked why he hadn’t received his lunch today. So she got the address, made up another meal, then took off with it immediately.”

“Mr. Stevens? We’ve never delivered to someone with that name, have we?” Sister Bernarda asked.

“Maybe he’s new,” Sister Agatha suggested.

“That’s what Sister Jo concluded, too,” Sister de Lourdes said. “She was upset about anyone missing a meal, so she left in a hurry. Since she couldn’t find the car keys, she took the bike.”

Sister Bernarda reached into her pocket and brought out the keys. “Oops. My fault.”

“I’m curious about this delivery. Would you call St. Augustine’s and have them verify the name, Sister de Lourdes?” Sister Agatha asked.

After a minute on the line, it became obvious that there was no Mr. Stevens on the list.

“She’s been set up,” Sister Agatha said, her voice rising in fear. “Any idea where she was going?”

“She repeated it aloud as she wrote it down. It’s 800 something Calle de Elena,” Sister de Lourdes replied.

“That’s less than five miles from here. Let’s take the
Antichrysler and see if we can catch up to her,” Sister Agatha said to Sister Bernarda. She turned back to Sister de Lourdes. “Call the sheriff and tell him what’s happening.” Sister de Lourdes nodded and picked up the telephone.

“Let’s go,” Sister Bernarda said, leading the way to the door. “I’m the one who forgot to put the keys back, so I’m driving.”

Sister Agatha’s heart was hammering against her rib cage as they passed through the monastery gates. Sister Bernarda at the wheel, they traveled as quickly as they could down the dirt road, heading for the highway. The car backfired in protest, a common event that they’d learned to ignore.

When the cell phone rang, Sister Agatha grabbed it instantly. It was the sheriff. “I ran the address on our database. There’s no 800 block of Calle de Elena. It only goes up to 700. I don’t have a deputy in that area, but I’m sending one to check out the entire neighborhood.”

“It could have been just a crank call, but then again, it might be more serious than that. What should we do?” she asked Tom. “She doesn’t have the cell phone, so I can’t call to let her know she’s been tricked.”

“Limit your search to the roads leading away from your own neighborhood,” he said. “I’ll work the area from Calle de Elena toward the monastery. Call if you spot the Harley.”

“Thanks, Tom, and you do the same. At least she has Pax with her.”

“That’s very good news.”

Sister Agatha kept praying and searching while Sister Bernarda drove slowly down the gravel road, checking at each side road for tracks or a dust trail. Suddenly, catching a faint roar in the distance, Sister Agatha sat up.

“Slow down to a crawl,” she said. “I could have sworn I heard that ‘potato potato’ rumble of the Harley.”

“There!” Sister Bernarda said, pointing. Through gaps in the trees and the undergrowth they could see flashes of the red and white Harley. It was on the other side of the irrigation ditch, closer to the river, going in the same direction they were, but on a parallel road.

“It looks like she’s heading back to the monastery,” Sister Bernarda said, “but she sure took the long way.”

“She might have taken the left turn after the winery instead of the right,” Sister Agatha said. “We should be able to catch up to her at the bridge.”

Although Sister Bernarda sped up, causing another backfire, the Harley got there first and drove on through the intersection. Recognizing the Antichrysler, Sister Jo came to a stop and waved at them. Pax barked happily.

“She’s safe.” Sister Agatha said, sighing.

The Harley accelerated on ahead. “Race you to the monastery!” Sister Jo called out.

Hearing the wail of a siren, Sister Bernarda pulled to the side to let the deputy go past them. Sister Agatha’s eyes widened a second later as Sister Jo was pulled over. “Rats! I forgot to tell the sheriff that we’d found Sister Jo.”

She picked up the cell phone and called in quickly. “No, it was our mistake. I’m
very
sorry,” Sister Agatha said, then explained. After apologizing to Tom again, she placed the phone down.

BOOK: The Prodigal Nun
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