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Authors: Aimée and David Thurlo

False Witness (12 page)

BOOK: False Witness
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“Come in, Sister. I’ve been waiting for you. What’s up?”

She told him about the connection between Liz Leland’s family and the monastery. “They could have a serious grudge against us.”

“I’ll look into it but, in all honesty, I think we’ve gotten all we’re going to get out of that girl and her mother.”

Sister Agatha relayed Reverend Mother’s request for added protection, then continued. “At least the monastery’s gate repairs should begin soon, thanks to the check we got from Mr. Gutierrez. And, of course, I’ll still do my best to find Angie Sanchez quickly. Once I do, our financial problems will ease up considerably.”

Just then Millie came in and placed a file on Tom’s desk. “Angie Sanchez? I remember that name. It caused a lot of problems around here some time back.” Seeing Sister Agatha looking expectantly at her, she continued. “A woman by that name testified against some major bad boy in an Albuquerque court. A murder case, I think it was. The reason it sticks in my mind is because an older woman here in town had the same name, and she started getting some heavy-duty threats. She was terrified, but before we could do much to help her, she moved away. I don’t know where she went.” She paused.

Sister Agatha brought out the photo of Angie, but Millie didn’t recognize her. “You said that it was an Albuquerque case?” Sister Agatha pressed.

“Yeah … something fairly dramatic that got TV coverage a few years ago. But I can’t recall the details. Sorry.”

“Then my next stop is
The Chronicle,”
Sister Agatha announced.

“What on earth could you possibly find there?” Tom said with a smile. “They have, what, one column of news? No, wait, that’s their entire paper.”

“Oh, be nice. So they’re small,” Sister Agatha said.

“Small? In newspaper terms, they’re a pamphlet,” Tom answered.

“They specialize in local news, but I’ll bet they’ve got access to the archives of the Albuquerque dailies.” She stood. “Oh, before I leave, one more thing. Maybe it’s just a coincidence,
but I thought a green sedan was following me earlier. He drove on past when I entered the parking lot here. I guess it’s possible he was just traveling in the same direction, but I wanted to mention it to you,” she said, giving him all the description she had.

“Did it have New Mexico plates?”

“No, the license plate wasn’t yellow. It was whitish with a darker color at the top, like the ones from Texas or maybe even Colorado. That’s all I know for sure.”

“If you see it again, call.”

“Will do.”

As she walked outside, Pax at heel, Sister Agatha considered what she’d learned. She’d have to compare the photo John Gutierrez had given her with one of the witness as soon as possible. She was positive that the Albuquerque newspapers would have one archived. If the photos matched, then she’d have another talk with Gutierrez before she went any further. Angie Sanchez’s safety would have to come first.

The sun was going down when she passed the feed store and the mercantile. A short time later, Sister Agatha pulled into the parking area beside
The Chronicle
. The old building had come a long way since Janice Bose had turned it into her newspaper’s main office and printing facility. There was not much landscaping around it—mostly gravel and a few yuccas—but it beat the tangle of tumbleweeds that had once made it difficult to even reach the door.

As she walked in with Pax, Chuck Moody saw them and, with a wide grin, rushed up to greet them. “Sister Agatha, it’s good to see you and Pax again! What brings you by here today?” Chuck was short and wiry, with long, dark hair that seemed to explode from his scalp in all directions.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Chuck.” He’d proved to be
a never-ending fountain of information for her. Chuck knew everyone in town and had his ear close to the ground. “Is Janice around?”

“No, she’s already gone for the day. Is there anything I can help you with? It’s slow right now, so I’d be happy to lend you a hand with anything you need.”

His enthusiasm was irrepressible, so she decided to make the most of the opportunity. “I’m looking for information on a high-profile criminal trial that took place a few years ago in Albuquerque. One of the prosecution’s witnesses was a woman by the name of Angie Sanchez.”

“Janice has Internet access to all the major papers in the state from her desktop computer. Let’s do a name search, put in the words ‘trial’ and ‘prosecution witness,’ then look at the hits we get.” Chuck led her inside Janice’s sparsely decorated office, and Pax followed them silently.

The desk was an old metal job that probably dated back to the 1950s, and the file cabinets looked as if they’d been salvaged from the dump. The only decoration on the wall was an old paint-by-numbers of a horse.

Chuck pulled out a wooden chair for her, then sat down behind Janice’s state-of-the-art computer. This was where some serious money had been spent. The LED screen and graphics were sharper than anything she’d ever seen before. Once Chuck entered a username and password, they zoomed past the home page of a big local newspaper’s Web site, ready to search the archives.

“Why are you interested in this particular story?” Chuck asked, entering the key search words in the proper box on the display. “If you tell me just a little more I might be able to help you find what you need faster.”

“Keep it between us, Chuck?” Seeing him nod, she continued,
leaving out the details concerning John Gutierrez. “I’m looking for an Angie Sanchez who’s supposed to be in this area. There’s a slim chance that it’s the same Angie Sanchez who was involved in a big trial a few years ago. I want to compare the photo I have to one of the witness in the newspaper archives.” She pulled the photo from her pocket. “By any chance do
you
know her?”

He studied the photo then shook his head. “She looks a little familiar, but that’s about it. Sorry.”

Chuck found several articles dealing with Angie Sanchez, then, as he clicked on one with the computer mouse, a phone in the other room started to ring.

“Sister, I’ve got to get that. Sometimes Janice calls when I’m on night duty to make sure I’m still holding down the fort, you know?”

“Go ahead. I can take it from here.”

“Excuse me, Pax,” Chuck said, edging by the dog, whose head had gone up as the phone began ringing.

Sister Agatha clicked the mouse again, enlarging the article enough to read the text without a magnifying glass. Several photos were included, including one identifying Angela Sanchez. It was a grainy snapshot taken at some outdoor event. Angie’s face was so washed-out from the light it was impossible to match the image to the photo John had given her.

Sister Agatha leaned back in her chair, her gaze focused on the on-screen image. The only features that seemed somewhat clear in the photo were Angie’s dark hair and expressive large eyes, but they weren’t enough to make her recognizable. Before long Chuck came back into the room.

He studied the image on the screen. “Neither photo looks like anyone I know in town, and, all modesty aside, I
do
know everyone,” he said.

“I think this is a dead end,” she said, and stood. “I better be on my way then.” Pax walked over and sat by her side, alert to the likelihood they’d be leaving.

“I was hoping you’d have some time to talk,” he said, obviously disappointed.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, curious about his reaction.

“No. Well, maybe. Look it’s almost dinnertime. How about I treat you to a roast beef sub? It’s a foot-long, but I’m not that hungry.”

“All right,” she said, following him to the small break room at the back. Pax followed, a step behind them.

Chuck brought out a paper sack from the fridge, placed half of the sandwich on a paper napkin before her, and the other half on a napkin for himself. Then he brought out two cans of soda.

Sister Agatha bowed her head and said Grace, and Chuck added a quick “Amen” before taking a quick bite of his sandwich. “Janice has offered me a partnership in the business but, until now, I’ve never stayed anywhere longer than a few years. How do you do it, Sister? Doesn’t it get boring, the same ’ole same ’ole?”

After allowing herself a moment to enjoy the beef and crisp lettuce, she answered his question. “Once you find the work that was meant to be yours—and you’ll know in your heart when you do—you’ll never worry about something like that again. You’ll still have good and bad days, everyone does, but finding your niche also brings inner peace, which is a blessing all on its own,” she said. “What I’m saying to you is this—if you love your work here, go for it.”

Hearing a loud clank just outside the window, Chuck muttered a soft curse and set down his sandwich. “It’s those punk kids again.”

Pax stood, growling low, his ears up.

“I’ll run them off, then come right back, Sister. We put bars on the windows to keep them from breaking in, but they still keep trying.”

“I’m going with you, and so’s Pax. I’m afraid the Harley might be their target.”

“Okay. With Pax around, we can gang up on them,” he said, grabbing a flashlight from a shelf, though there were bright floodlights around the building.

Sister Agatha followed Chuck and Pax out the front door. They checked the Harley and sidecar parked in front, along with Chuck’s old pickup. Then she and Pax followed Chuck around to the rear of the building.

He swept the flashlight in a big circle, then directed the beam at the window. “The little dipsticks are gone now, but they’ve been fiddling with the bars on this window. I’d better take a closer look and make sure they haven’t pried any loose. You might as well go back inside and finish your sandwich. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“Okay. I think I’ll make a printout of the article with the photo, too, while I’m waiting. It may come in handy.”

Sister Agatha and Pax went back to Janice’s office. She’d just clicked on “print” when the lights suddenly went out. The soft glow of the computer monitor screen became the only source of illumination, and it cast a greenish aura around her.

Sister Agatha heard the beep that came from the computer’s backup battery, and checked to make sure the article was being printed. Fortunately, the ink-jet printer was on battery power, too. The page was almost printed when she heard the front door click open. “Chuck?”

Pax’s hackles rose, he growled, and a heartbeat later, the big white dog bolted out of the room. She heard him bark
once, then there was the sound of a door slamming shut. After that, the sound of his barking suddenly became muted. He’d somehow become trapped in another room.

Her heart hammering at her throat, Sister Agatha reached for her cell phone, called Tom’s direct line, and gave him a quick report. “I can hear Pax barking up a storm, so I think he must be okay. But I don’t know who’s out there. It’s not Chuck. He would have answered my call, and Pax wouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“Lock yourself in Janice’s office, or block the door,” he instructed instantly. “One of us will be there in minutes. And don’t worry about Pax. He can take care of himself.”

She closed up the cell phone and inched toward the door, torn between following Tom’s instructions and going to help her dog. Moving silently, Sister Agatha listened for the intruder, but all she could hear was Pax’s furious barking.

The farther she got from the computer screen, the darker the room became, and she was forced to feel her way around the file cabinets. She was almost at the door when she felt a stirring in the air and the almost imperceptible warmth of another body slipping past her in the dark. Danger had now found her.

10

S
ISTER AGATHA HELD HER BREATH, THEN, GLANCING
back, saw a figure cross in front of the computer. The illumination from the screen silhouetted him. Sister Agatha stepped silently out into the hall, suspecting from his actions that the intruder didn’t have a fix on her position yet. Suddenly the shrill wail of sirens overwhelmed the sound of Pax’s barking, which seemed to be coming from the next room.

Hearing it also, the intruder spun around, and, before she could take another step, they collided. The impact knocked her to the floor. Sister Agatha looked up as her assailant opened the rear exit and fled outside. He was visible for only a second as he ran past the glow of a streetlight, but she was almost certain it was a man. By the time she struggled to her feet and ran to the door, there was no sign of him.

Sister Agatha went back and opened the door next to Janice’s
office, releasing the dog. Excited and angry, Pax spotted the open exit door and shot toward it but, at her command, came to an abrupt stop.

The room lights were switched on again, and Sister Agatha squinted at the sudden brightness. Less than ten seconds later, Pax began to wag his tail and Chuck came in, the room lights giving his face a deathly pallor.

“Are you two okay in here?” Chuck asked quickly. “I got coldcocked by some jerk. He must have also turned off the lights at the outside panel. I flipped them back on as soon as I came to my senses again.”

Before she could answer, an unmarked car with flashing red emergency lights slid to a stop in the gravel of the parking lot. Tom came running in, his hand on the butt of his pistol. “Where’s the intruder?”

“He’s gone,” Sister Agatha said. “Ran off just before Chuck got the lights back on.”

“So you never got a look at him?” Tom asked, moving his hand away from his weapon.

“From his outline in the glow of the computer monitor, and the brief glance I got when he ran outside, I got the impression that the intruder was a man, but that’s all I can tell you. I’m not even sure of his height. When I was actually close to him, he was leaning over.”

“Did he take anything?” Tom pressed.

“I have no idea,” Sister Agatha said.

Tom glared at Chuck Moody. “Well?”

“Well, what, sheriff? I didn’t see what went on in here. I was outside checking the bars on the windows when I got slugged from behind. Knocked me out cold. We’ve been having trouble with kids, so when we heard a noise outside….”

“You think this was the work of a kid?” Tom asked, looking at Sister Agatha, then back at Chuck.

BOOK: False Witness
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