by Lynne Hinton
“No, we drove the truck,” Eve answered. “Hey, by the way, do you know anything about a yellow cat that’s hanging out near the office?”
Twila shook her head. “Nah, that could be anybody’s.” She winked. “But I’m sure he’s yours now.”
“It’s a she and I really don’t need a cat, even though she’s quite adorable.”
“You haven’t needed any of the animals you’ve had, according to your father, but that never stopped you before.”
“Right,” Evangeline answered.
“You want to take a ride on my bike later?” Twila asked. She knew how much Evangeline loved to ride.
“I would love to,” she replied. “But not just now.”
Twila nodded. “How’s Captain Jack?” she asked.
“Just fine, Twila, just fine,” she replied, trying to catch her breath after having lost it during her friend’s greeting. “Thank you for the meat loaf you sent over.”
Twila grabbed the dish towel and began wiping away a few crumbs left by the register. “I was going to send a cake but then figured that would be pretty insensitive.” She slapped the towel over her shoulder. “With his diabetes and all,” she added.
Evangeline smiled. “Meat loaf was a perfect gift. We ate it for two different meals. It was very good.”
“Elk meat,” the woman noted. “And instead of brown sugar in the sauce, I only used ketchup. It baked up real good.”
“I had forgotten the taste of elk,” Evangeline commented. “Donnie shoot a buck?”
“Yeah, he got one last year. Had some extra packs in the freezer. I know Captain Jack loves elk meat loaf.”
“He did enjoy it.”
“The monks and nuns eat much wild game?” Twila asked.
“No, unfortunately we mostly eat a vegetarian diet at the monastery.”
“Shame,” Twila responded. “How are you managing that? I know how you love a good piece of steak.”
Megan cleared her throat and Evangeline turned around, having forgotten she wasn’t alone.
“Oh, sorry,” she responded and made the introduction: “Twila, this is Megan Flint.”
Megan held out her hand.
“I’ve seen you in here before,” Twila noted, taking the outstretched hand and giving it a shake.
“Yes,” Megan agreed. “My boyfriend …” She hesitated and turned to Evangeline, appearing to need help in finishing her sentence.
Evangeline picked up on the request. “She’s from Los Angeles, but she’s visited here a few times.”
Twila studied the woman closely. She seemed to be trying to figure out exactly when she had seen her before.
Megan smiled and retreated a few steps behind Evangeline.
“We’d like two mochas,” Eve placed the order. “Extra cream in mine,” she added, glancing over to Megan. “Twila makes the richest whipped cream in the county,” she noted.
“You want a little extra, too, Megan?” Twila asked.
“Sure,” she answered. “I don’t start shooting for a couple of months. I can splurge a little now.”
Twila didn’t start to make the drinks right away. She was still eyeing Megan. “You’re a movie star,” she said. “Now I remember. You came in here with your boyfriend a few days before he—” She stopped.
“Before he disappeared,” Megan said, finishing the sentence. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I heard they found his body over near the Silver Cross,” Twila said. She shook her head over and over. “Real shame. I’m sorry, honey,” she noted.
There was an awkward pause.
“We haven’t had a murder in Madrid in …” She stopped to recall. “Gosh, I guess since the gold rush.” She grinned. “Lots of killing then,” she said and then seemed to notice Evangeline’s raised brows, a gesture she took to mean she should quit talking. She pulled out a couple of napkins and handed them to the young women. “So, two mochas, extra cream.”
Evangeline headed over to a corner table and Megan followed behind her. The two sat down while Twila became busy making their drinks. Someone else entered the shop, and a new conversation began between the shop owner and the customer.
“Now,” Eve began, “what and how do you know about the Captain’s finances?”
Megan dropped her purse by her feet, slid her chair closer to Eve, and leaned in with her elbows on the table. “I don’t know anything for sure,” she said. She sat back. “I overheard a conversation one day. I heard him talking to a banker or somebody about a loan.” She placed her hands in her lap. “He didn’t know I was there. I had come in the rear entrance because I parked near the fire station and saw that the door was open. And I just overheard him talking about needing the money to pay some bills.” She crossed and then uncrossed her legs. “He asked a couple of times, said he had already taken a second mortgage and that this was the only way. He claimed if he didn’t get the loan, he would have to close the business. He sounded pretty upset. I waited a few minutes and then decided I should leave, come in the front door so he could see me. So that’s what I did. He never knew I was in there.”
Evangeline remembered Dorisanne mentioning something about his debts, about him giving her money to pay off a loan for her husband. She wondered how long this had been going on and, if he was in such serious financial decline, how long he would be able to keep the office open. She also thought about the stack of mail in the cupboard and how it seemed strange that he would keep letters next to coffee cups. They were probably unpaid bills. She shook her head. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
Megan seemed surprised. “Well, surely you don’t have to ask that question, do you? Even I can see that Captain Jackson Divine would never ask for help.”
Megan was smarter at reading people than Eve first thought.
“And I don’t mean to be too personal, but aren’t nuns poor? Is there anything you could actually do to help him?”
Before Evangeline could respond, Twila arrived with their drinks.
“Two mochas with extra cream,” she said.
Megan reached for her purse to pay the bill.
Twila waved off the action. “Nope, there’s no charge,” she explained. “I was going to give you the drinks on the house since you are with my favorite nun, but these are actually compliments of that gentleman right over there.” And she turned and gestured to the person who was standing near the front counter.
Both Evangeline and Megan followed her pointed finger to the man. Evangeline was sure that she didn’t recognize the short, dark-haired fellow, but when she saw the blush in the other woman’s cheeks and her immediate rise from her chair, she knew that Megan certainly did.
THIRTY
“Mr. Polland, this is Sister Evangeline Divine.”
Evangeline thought the name sounded familiar.
“He’s Chaz’s—” Megan stopped. “He was Chaz’s producer,” she amended.
Evangeline remembered hearing the man’s name from past conversations with the young woman.
Twila shrugged as if the news meant nothing to her and returned to the counter.
Evangeline stood up, holding out her hand. “Mr. Polland.”
“Please, call me Ron,” he said with a smile. He took her hand.
She nodded and sat down.
Megan seemed flustered. “Would … would you like to join us?” she asked, stumbling over her words. It was easy to see that the man’s presence made her nervous. She glanced down at the table and the two chairs that she and Evangeline had occupied and then looked around as if she were scanning the room for a bigger table or one with more chairs.
Polland appeared to understand what she was considering and reached behind him to pull the chair over that was closest to him. “Please, Megan, take your seat, drink your coffee.”
She smiled nervously, sat in her chair, and lifted the cup to her lips.
Evangeline thought the young woman drank as if the man’s words had been an instruction and not merely a means of kindness. She watched M
egan and then lifted her eyes to the man who had paid for her mocha. Before she had the chance to thank him for the drink, Twila brought him a cup of coffee and stood behind him, grinning. Evangeline thought she might pull up another chair.
“It’s a two-shot espresso with soy milk,” she announced to the threesome at the table. She remained where she was.
Evangeline smiled and nodded. She took a sip of her mocha. “Well, mine’s perfect,” she noted.
Polland was watching Megan. He hadn’t touched the cup Twila had just placed in front of him and didn’t seem to notice that the proprietor stood waiting for him to take a sip and give his approval.
There was a pause.
“Will there be anything else?” Twila finally asked, realizing her customer wasn’t going to try his drink. The three of them shook their heads, and she rolled her eyes and headed back to the counter.
“So, Megan dear,” the man said with a smooth, fatherly tone, “when did you leave Los Angeles?”
She didn’t meet his eyes, but when she lifted her face, a small dab of cream was on the end of her nose.
Evangeline noticed it right away and didn’t know whether to hand her a napkin or gently tell her to wipe her face. Before she could make a decision, however, Mr. Polland had made his own, pulling out the handkerchief from his front right breast pocket and removing the dollop of cream from her face himself. The young woman jerked back quickly as if his movement somehow frightened her. Evangeline stared at the two of them.
“I’m sorry, dear. You stuck your nose in the cream and made a little mess.”
Megan remained quiet.
He turned to face Evangeline. “So, did I hear Megan right?” he asked. “Did she introduce you as Sister?” He smiled.
“Yes, I’m a nun in the religious order known as the Benedictines.”
“After Saint Benedict of Nursia,” he replied.
Evangeline was surprised. “Are you Catholic, Mr. Polland?”
“Ron,” he reminded her. “Lapsed.” He winked. “I actually went to seminary for three years. Trained by the Jesuits,” he noted and finally took a sip of his espresso. “Turns out I’m not quite disciplined enough for the lifestyle.”
She nodded.
“You were going to be a priest?” Megan spoke up, sounding surprised.
He smiled. “Priest, producer … They’re actually not that different.”
Evangeline was curious. “How is that?” she wanted to know.
“Well, the way I see it, running a movie studio is like running a church.”
She waited for more of an explanation.
He complied. “The worship service, it’s not much different than a film.”
“I never quite thought of things that way,” Evangeline said.
“Well, they’re pretty similar if you think about it. There’s an agreeable script, faith that it will come together, music to accent the drama, lights, sound, props. There are roles to fill, lines to learn, and at the end of the day, you hope there’s enough money so that the bills get paid and there’s a little left over.” He paused. “Oh, and with all your work and dedication, you hope that the audience gets a nice show.”
Evangeline didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t ever heard the work of a priest or the life of a community of faith stripped down to such an uninspired existence. She took another sip of her drink and looked away.
“So, Meg.” The man seemed ready to move on to another subject.
The young woman snapped to attention.
“What has brought you back to this little godforsaken town?”
She looked at Evangeline and then back at him. “I, uh, I …”
“She knew my father,” Eve answered for her. “He’s just gotten home from the hospital, and she came to see how he is doing.”
The man studied Megan and then smiled. He sat back, appearing to relax. “Megan is a conscientious girl,” he noted.
“He was the one helping me find Chaz,” Megan piped up. “Evangeline’s father,” she added.
Polland nodded knowingly. “And now Chaz has been found.”
Megan turned away. Polland moved closer to Megan. “Meg, seeing as how we’re both here at the same time, why don’t we head back to Santa Fe together? We’ll fly to L.A. on the jet and we can have a nice, long chat this afternoon.”
She fumbled with her response. “But I have a car, a driver. And I flew commercial.”
“Nothing to worry about. I saw Matthew in the parking lot earlier. He stopped for coffee. I’ve already dismissed your driver so you’ll be able to ride with me. And you can cancel the flight.” He smiled and patted Megan on the hand. “Save those frequent-flier points for another trip.”
Polland drank all his espresso in one gulp and put down his cup. He stood and threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table before turning to face Evangeline. He held out his hand.
Evangeline remained seated but took the man’s hand.
“Pleasure, Sister.”
She smiled. “Nice meeting you, too, Mr. Polland.” She looked over at Megan, but the young woman would not meet her eyes.
THIRTY-ONE
Evangeline called and checked on the Captain. He was still working with Ricky and then planned to go out to lunch in Santa Fe with Daniel, so she knew she had some time on her own. She finished her mocha and then took Twila up on her offer. The bike was a 1984 Harley Low Glide, candy-red, the same one that Twila had bought new when Eve was just a teenager. It was the first motorcycle Eve had ever been on, and she was glad to find out her friend still had it and that she had the chance to take it out for a short ride.
Along with the keys, Twila had also handed Eve her leather jacket and helmet, but the nun had declined the helmet. She took the jacket, however, knowing that the coat she was wearing wouldn’t keep her warm. Besides, she wanted to enjoy the feel of wearing leather again. She had given away all but one of her riding jackets when she joined the monastery, but she’d kept a couple of good pairs of boots, which were perfect for riding and which she just happened to be wearing when Megan showed up.
She looked around the parking lot and decided to head north. She adjusted the mirrors, turned on the engine, and kicked it into high gear, speeding up the highway. Immediately, she began to unwind.
As she drove along the familiar road, Eve wondered why Ron Polland appeared to have such a hold over Megan. Her response to his presence seemed to be more than just simple respect for the man who obviously had some say about her career in film—the young woman seemed to be afraid of him. She hadn’t even tried to get out of going back to Los Angeles with him, nor had she mentioned saying good-bye to the Captain for her when she left. Polland made the suggestion that she join him, she made one very lame attempt to refuse, and then she had jumped at the command. What else did the Hollywood producer ask from the young star? Evangeline wondered. What other commands had he given her?
She sped along the Cerrillos Hills, enjoying the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, and thought more of the way Polland treated Megan, the way he seemed to be able to control her. Eve knew herself well enough to know that submission was not a strong suit for her. She had been cautioned on more than one occasion as a child about her issues with authority. That had been a source of much trouble in her home and at school. And then, even as a young woman at the monastery, she had received counsel regarding her strong will. She had been told by her superiors repeatedly that she was difficult to supervise because she demonstrated a clear resistance to authority, however benevolent.
She slowed down, making the turn toward Galisteo, and recalled one of the more recent conversations she’d had with the vice superior, in which she had questioned the new order making the nuns leave the main campus.
“Don’t you realize that obedience to your superiors is a manifestation of your willingness to obey God?”
“I do,” she had answered.
“And don’t you see that learning to obey the order of the monastery as well as our supervisio
n teaches you the humility you need to obey the commands of God?”
“I do,” she repeated.
“Then why do you struggle so fiercely with the instructions you are given by your superiors?”
“I don’t think my struggles are fierce.”
Brother Oliver had not responded right away.
“Sister Eve,” he had finally said with a great deal of gentleness. “We submit to the church and to God because it is in submission that we are taught humility, and humility leads us to the cardinal virtue of temperance. If one is unable to submit to God and to the legitimate authority of the church, then one can never truly attain temperance. And as members of the religious order, we are called to work toward this virtue because in attaining it we are led to the restraint or expression of the inordinate movements of our desires or appetites.”
He had studied her at this point, and she had become uncomfortable with the attention.
“I will do better,” she had responded.
He waited. “Sister Eve, it is not so much that we are requesting that you do better as it is that you understand your resistance.”
She sighed. She wanted desperately to be finished with this conversation and to be dismissed.
“We submit to authority because we love God, because we desire to serve God, not because we just want to do better and stay out of trouble. We submit as a response to our call to follow Christ.”
“I don’t understand,” she confessed because clearly she didn’t. “Do you want me to submit and not argue as much or not? Do you just want me to accept this new edict and not state my opinion?”
He had smiled at that. “I want you to have the desire to submit, not to placate your superiors, not to get us off your back, but rather I want you to make the choice to submit because it is your deepest desire to obey and to serve. And I want you to accept what is inevitable.”
Evangeline took a right down a dirt road. She knew a shortcut back to town. After some time she had finally come to understand what the vice superior had been trying to teach her, and from then on, she had worked hard on her response to instructions from those in charge. But she could never become as submissive as the others in the community. She also knew that she would never be like Megan. No man would ever cause her to cower the way Ron Polland had made the young star cower. One day, she might ultimately learn the way of submission and obedience as a means to humility, but cowering was simply not an option for Sister Evangeline Divine.