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Authors: Aimée and David Thurlo

False Witness (27 page)

BOOK: False Witness
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“We can’t let her slip away.”

He nodded. “Simpson has backed up Garza’s story one hundred percent. He admits to kidnapping Terri, but insists that it was the only hope they had of getting answers and evidence. He believes Garza’s story that Terri’s a killer.”

“Could Simpson have been mixed up in Rio’s murder, too?”

“No way. He was serving with the Army in South Korea when Rio got killed,” Tom answered.

“You don’t have anything you can use to hold Angie, so we’d better move fast. Fortunately,” Sister Agatha said with a slow smile, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Every time you say that, I get the urge to yell ‘incoming,’ and dive under my desk,” he said with a grin.

“Praying offers better protection. But don’t worry, my plan’s really good. Call your deputy, and make sure Terri doesn’t leave the hospital until I get there.”

Sister Agatha drove to the hospital and, when she reached the nursing station, saw Terri signing some papers. The deputy standing nearby nodded to Sister Agatha in greeting.

“Hello, Terri,” Sister Agatha said cheerfully, focusing her complete attention on the woman. “I’m so relieved that you’re okay.”

“Sister Agatha, I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping I’d get the chance to thank you once more. If it hadn’t been for you I might not have made it out alive.”

“God was watching over you,” she answered. “Are you going to spend a few days at home, recovering, before you go back to work?”

“I’m going home to spend the night, but after that, I’ll be packing up my belongings and moving out of town. I’ll sell the house. I’m never going to feel safe around here again.”

“I understand completely. But, after what you’ve been through, you’re going to need some downtime and a quiet, safe place to stay. If you don’t mind a suggestion, we’ve set aside a room inside St. Francis’ Pantry for overnight guests. Remember me telling you about that? Why don’t you come and be our first guest?” Sister Agatha asked. “You’d be perfectly safe there.”

“I’m not sure I want to be around anyone right now, Sister,” Terri said slowly. “I need to sort things out in my own head.”

Sister Agatha tried not to show surprise at her response. Maybe her theory about Terri had been wrong from the start—and Garza had lied once again. If Terri showed no interest in coming to the monastery—where she’d have access to the grounds—then they’d have to come up with a new theory to explain the presence of the money and the gun.

“Come to think of it, Sister, the pantry is well away from everyone, and your monastery is so peaceful! I’ve enjoyed visiting, even when it was just helping with deliveries. I can’t think of a better place to go. I’ll see you there in about an
hour? I need to take my discharge papers by the front desk first, and then rent a car. Sheriff Green said my Toyota has to stay locked up in their impound yard for a few more days.” She looked over at the deputy. “Can you take me to a car-rental place instead of my home, officer?”

As the deputy nodded, Sister Agatha smiled. “See you soon, Terri.”

23

A
HALF HOUR LATER EVERYTHING WAS SET UP AT THE
monastery. With Sister Bernarda’s and Sister de Lourdes’ help, markers borrowed from the work site by the front gate had been hammered into the ground near the statue of Saint Francis as if construction work were pending there as well.

Sister Agatha wrapped a coat around herself. The clouds had dissipated, giving way to a bright full moon—and a really penetrating cold.

“What do you think of the markers. Too much?” she asked Tom, her hand resting on Pax’s head.

“No, I don’t think so,” he answered, then checked his watch. “I better duck out of sight. I don’t want her to see me hanging around. Just remember, if she’s killed once, the second time will come a lot easier to her. Keep Pax with you whenever you’re around Angie. I won’t be far, but he’ll be your first line
of defense.” He paused, then held her gaze. “Are you
sure
you want to do this?”

“Absolutely. And don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

He reached into his unit and retrieved a night-vision scope. “I’ll be using a low-light camera, but you’ll need this. Call me the moment you spot her outside. I’ll do the same for you.” He nodded to Sister Bernarda, then walked off.

Sister Agatha watched the sheriff drive away. She was determined to do all she could to put away a criminal who’d used their monastery as a shield to conceal stolen money and cover up a murder.

“Just so you know, I have no intention of leaving you alone with her,” Sister Bernarda said firmly. “You have no idea how to handle yourself in a fight—I do.”

Sister Agatha thought about the man who’d pulled a knife on her out on the road, and how she’d fought back. Anger had given her the strength then, but that wouldn’t be the case now.

“I appreciate your offer, but we’ll have to move quietly. Four footsteps are a lot noisier than two,” Sister Agatha said as tactfully as possible. “And remember to act casual when Terri shows up. We don’t want her to suspect what we’re up to. She has to believe she’s getting away with something.”

“What cover story are you using for the markers?” Sister Bernarda asked.

Before Sister Agatha could answer, Terri drove through the open entrance and parked her rental car in the space closest to St. Francis’s Pantry. Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda went to greet her.

As Terri climbed out of the sedan, struggling against sore muscles, her gaze fell upon the markers ahead with their little orange flags flapping in the breeze. “You going to expand your driveway or something?”

Sister Agatha smiled blandly. “A friend of the monastery has volunteered to build a mausoleum for all our prioresses. Of course that means that our cemetery’s borders will be expanded. The
banco
, the statue, and the flagstone walk will all have to be moved. They’ll have to dig footings for the foundation walls. Work is supposed to begin tomorrow.”

“It sounds like an ambitious plan,” Terri said.

“It’ll be a permanent memorial for all our abbesses,” Sister Agatha answered, then glanced back at the monastery and noticed the outside lights being turned off. “Do you know about our horarium?”

“Your what?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Sister Agatha answered with a smile. “We observe an old custom called the Great Silence after our last liturgical hour of prayer. Unless there’s a real emergency, everyone inside the monastery will be silent until after morning prayers. That’s when we’ll be bringing breakfast out to you, at around eight thirty. Of course, you’re welcome to attend our six-thirty Mass.”

“I didn’t bring an alarm clock, and I doubt I’ll be up that early. I haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m sure you’ll hear our bells. The first one rings at four thirty in the morning,” Sister Bernarda said.

Terri cringed, then forced a smile. “Ooookay.”

The two externs showed Terri the small guest room in the rear of the storage building. The bed was covered with a thick blue-and-yellow patchwork quilt Sister Maria Victoria had crafted. Curtains made out of yellow fabric covered the one window.

“It looks … homey and comfortable,” Terri said as she looked around. “I expected it to be more austere, like just a cot and a crucifix.”

“We wanted it to be more welcoming than that. This room is for our guests, after all,” Sister Agatha said. “The other door leads to a small bathroom and shower. You’ll find fresh towels there. Can you think of anything else you might need?” Sister Agatha asked.

“No, everything’s perfect. Thanks.”

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow,” Sister Agatha said.

Sister Agatha and Sister Bernarda made a show of walking back to the monastery, Pax at their side. Once they’d disappeared around the corner of the building and were out of sight of the pantry, they stopped behind the shelter of the two large cottonwoods.

Pax lay down at Sister Agatha’s feet, his ears pricked forward as if he understood they were on duty. The only sound that disturbed the silence surrounding them was the nearly imperceptible click of beads as Sister Bernarda said her rosary.

Two hours passed with no signs of activity, and Sister Agatha began to wonder if they’d somehow given themselves away. She studied the grounds using the special binoculars Tom had given them, and wondered if he was growing impatient, too.

“Do you see the sheriff?” Sister Bernarda whispered.

“No, but he’s out there,” Sister Agatha answered, matching her soft tone. “He was going to park his unit out of sight from the road, then move in on foot. Tom was hoping to film Terri trying to dig up the loot before he arrests her.”

As the temperature continued to drop, Sister Agatha wrapped her coat more tightly around herself and took the gloves out of her pockets. Sister Bernarda had slipped hers on already, but otherwise seemed oblivious to the frigid breeze as she surveyed the grounds.

“I just saw a flicker of light by the front of the pantry,” Sister Bernarda said. “She must have found the flashlight.”

Sister Agatha took the binoculars back from her and, focusing them, saw Terri closing the door behind herself. She took a long look at the monastery, then walked away in the direction of the flagstone walk, carrying a small shovel. Terri took special care to shield the flashlight beam with her body so it couldn’t be seen from the monastery.

Sister Agatha had Tom’s number preprogrammed, so all she had to do was press one number to call him. “She took the bait and is carrying a shovel.”

“Hang back and give her enough slack to incriminate herself.”

After an eternity, Terri looked toward the monastery again, pointed to a window, then turned and pointed to a nearby cottonwood tree.

“What’s she doing?” Sister Bernarda asked.

“Getting her bearings, I think, looking for reference points that haven’t moved.”

Terri took two steps forward, and looked at the same places she’d studied before. Then she crouched and, with the aid of the flashlight, began studying the ground carefully around the spot where they’d found the case.

Suddenly Terri jumped to her feet, dropping the shovel at the same time, and raced away, heading for her car.

“She knows it’s a trap,” Sister Agatha told Tom, not bothering to lower her voice anymore.

“Let Pax go,” Tom said.

“Pax,
voran, pass auf,”
she said, remembering the German commands he’d been taught. The dog immediately sprang forward.

“What’d you say?” Sister Bernarda asked quickly, jogging after the dog with her.

“Watch and you’ll see,” Sister Agatha replied, trying to keep up with her.

Pax caught up to Terri before she could reach the pantry, then backed her into a corner of the outside wall, barking and growling like he was about to eat her alive. When Terri swung the flashlight at him, he chomped down on it, yanking it from her grip and flipping it away like a toy. Then he lowered his head and gave an even deeper growl, inching forward. Terri froze, escape now clearly impossible.

“Better stay put,” Sister Agatha yelled as she and Sister Bernarda caught up to them.

A heartbeat later Tom ran up. “It’s over. This time
you’re
going to prison,” Tom said.

Sister Agatha waited until Tom had handcuffed her before she recalled Pax.

“What is going on? I’ll sue! Your dog attacked me!” Terri said angrily. “I was going out for a walk and he just came at me!”

“Nice try, but we all saw what you were after,” Tom shot back, “and I have it all on video. God bless telephoto lenses.” He pointed to a lump in his jacket pocket. “There’s more, too. I just got a call. Ballistics went over the gun we found buried inside that metal case—along with nearly eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We didn’t find your prints anywhere on the box or the revolver, but you missed a spot. You forgot about the ammo. Your prints were found on three out of the six shell casings. The rifling marks on test bullets fired from this weapon match those taken from Mark Rio’s body, too. This time, lady, you’re going down.”

When Terri turned around Sister Agatha saw the unbridled hatred mirrored in her eyes. “You have it
so
soft, Sisters,”
she spat out, looking from her to Sister Bernarda. “Neither one of you has the remotest idea what it’s like to be truly alone. Even when you’re out here you’ve got all of them behind you,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the candlelit chapel. “I bet the entire monastery is in there now, praying for you to come home safe. They
care
what happens to you. I’ve never had that in my life. My real uncle didn’t give a rip about me. He kept me fed and I had a place to live, but he made it clear I was just a burden, someone he was saddled with. That’s why I left.”

“You’ll always have God. He can’t be taken from you—not ever,” Sister Agatha said softly.

Terri laughed. “Easy for you to say. You live in your own universe. The monastery will never go away and it provides for all your needs. Companionship, family, it’s all there in one neat little package.”

As Tom led her away, Sister Bernarda stood rock still. “Though she doesn’t see the whole picture, she’s right, you know. Because we serve the Lord, we’re part of something that’s stronger and more permanent than any of us. The spirit of Our Lady of Hope Monastery beats inside our hearts. I may never know what it’s like to have children, but I have a family,” she said slowly, then added, “I’m exactly where He wants me to be—and where I belong.”

“Let’s head back inside, Sister Bernarda,” Sister Agatha said, her hand on Pax. “It’s time for us to go home.”

The following morning, Sister Agatha took up her post as portress, giving Sister Bernarda a much deserved break from parlor duty.

At a half past eight she heard someone knock at the door.

“Deo Gratias,” she said, softly thanking God according to their custom, then went to greet their visitor.

Seeing Tom, she smiled and waved him in. “I’m so glad you stopped by. I was just about to call you for an update.”

The sheriff sat down in one of the parlor chairs. “A lot has been happening,” he said. “Garza’s murder conviction will be overturned, and he’s already busy making a deal with the DA on the recent charges. My guess is that he’ll end up spending the rest of his life in protective custody at a local hospice. Ralph Simpson admitted that he stole the SUV and grabbed the beer cans to make it look like it was a drunk crashing into the gate. It was like you’d guessed. Garza had wanted to make sure you’d need the money and agree to find Terri for him.”

BOOK: False Witness
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