by Lynne Hinton
“I am what I am,” she said out loud to herself and then grabbed a comb off the small shelf and ran it through her hair once, put it back on the shelf, and looked again.
As she examined herself, she realized that one of the things she had always loved about being a nun was the lack of emphasis on appearance. It was such a different way to be a woman, she thought, remembering the way she strived for inner beauty, the ways she saw it in the other nuns. None of them ever struggled with whether they looked pale or were in need of shades of pink on their lips or cheeks. They didn’t just take up new values of living lives of faith and seeking to be of service; they also gave up values of Western society that demanded makeup and fashion from women. And even though Eve could never remember having been as concerned about those things as her sister, there was a time when she paid attention to how she looked, worried that she didn’t quite fit in. But once she took her vows, she’d never struggled with those issues again. In fact, there was a time she took down the mirrors in her room because she wanted to completely rid herself of the temptation of vanity. She wanted to spend her time and energy focusing on the contents of her heart and not on what was lacking in her physical appearance. She stared at herself in the mirror a few moments more and then shook her head. Eve turned away, leaving the bathroom and the mirror, and walked into the other room and searched for her rosary and phone that she remembered had been on the desk. As she grabbed those two things she noticed once again the small piece of blue cloth she had taken from the crime scene. She placed it in the narrow desk drawer and stuck the other two items in her pocket. She gave Daisy a quick scratch under the chin, promising to return soon, and she left the room, heading down the hallway to the front offices.
She rounded the corner and suddenly found herself squarely in the middle of what appeared to be a press conference. Father Oliver’s back was to her, and standing next to him were the two investigating officers, Detective Bootskievely and Detective Lujan. All eyes that had been on the three of them immediately turned to her. Eve stopped and then started to back up. Daniel was standing behind the small but lively group of reporters and camera operators and he smiled when he saw Eve, waving her over. She changed direction once more and quickly moved behind the three men being questioned and headed toward her friend.
“You sure know how to make an entrance,” he said in a whisper, elbowing her as she made her way to stand beside him.
“Why didn’t you tell me there was a media event scheduled for this morning?” she asked, glancing around at the group of people standing in the entranceway.
“Didn’t know about it,” he replied. “It was sort of an impromptu thing,” he added. “The reporter from Channel 7 found out the reporter from Channel 13 was here and she called the gal at Channel 4. I think they’re all on each other’s speed dials.”
Eve watched as the cameras rolled and the young reporters took notes. She noticed a number of folks standing behind the media representatives and tried to see if Dr. Pierce and Dr. Taylor were in the crowd. She thought she would be able to recognize them from the photos she had seen when she researched them on the computer earlier. She searched the group, going from face to face, but didn’t see anyone resembling either of them. She did recognize many of the visitors from the meals they’d shared earlier in the week. It seemed like some of the guests who had planned to attend the conference had stayed after all. Some of them met her eyes and nodded or shook their heads as they were hearing what had happened the night before.
“The Captain leave?” he asked.
She nodded. “He said he was going back to Madrid; he’s got some other case he’s working on,” she responded, recalling a few details her father had mentioned. “Somebody thinks there’s a ghost at the fire station,” she added. “They’re paying him to find out for sure.”
Daniel nodded.
She turned back to the abbot as he was finishing up his statement. “What’s he been saying?” she asked.
“Oh, just that there has been a tragedy at the monastery and that they’re asking for prayers during this difficult time, and to give the brothers some privacy.” He looked at Eve. “And that people need to let the police officers do their jobs and not get in the way.”
She rolled her eyes at him and watched as Father Oliver appeared to turn things over to the two investigating officers. Detective Boots stepped up as Father Oliver moved away from the small podium filled with microphones.
“We don’t have any further statements to make at this time,” he announced, holding up both hands. “This is an ongoing investigation, and we will let you know when we have anything to reveal to the community. We need to contact family members of the deceased before announcing anyone’s name. I hope you will honor that request, as I’m sure you all understand what a tragic event this is.”
One of the reporters raised her hand and stepped forward. “Caren Cox, Action 7 News,” she said as way of introduction. “I heard the victim was going to deliver a speech at the conference scheduled at the monastery for today through this weekend.”
The detective shook his head. “We cannot verify any such statement.”
Another reporter, obviously seeing what was happening and wanting to get in on the questions, moved to stand beside her colleague. “Cathy Niroo, Channel 4, Award-Winning News. Is it true this is being investigated as a homicide?”
The detective shook his head and held up his hands again as if to say he would not comment.
“Officer, at least give us that much. Is it a homicide?” Another reporter had pushed her way from the middle of the group to the front. “Barbara Trembley from the Journal.”
“We are calling this a suspicious death at this time. We have not ruled out any possibilities.”
“I heard she was poisoned,” came a voice from the crowd. “And that her brother, a monk here, is missing.”
Eve turned to the area where the voice had come from and noticed a man she hadn’t seen before. He was of medium height and wearing a black leather vest, jeans, and a long-sleeved striped shirt. He had his arms crossed over his chest, wore black plastic glasses, and had long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a full red beard covering his face. At first Eve thought she recognized him, but as she tried to focus on him more clearly, people kept moving into her line of vision.
She realized he hadn’t made the comment, however; that had come from a young man standing beside him. But at first glance, the red-haired man appeared to be very interested in the remarks and in the response. He was watching the detective closely. She was staring, still trying to place him, when he suddenly turned and looked in her direction. She immediately glanced away.
“We do not have any information about other family members present at the monastery,” Detective Jared Bootskievely replied. “And there has been no cause of death given at this time,” he added. “We thank you for coming out here, and when we know something more, we will have a statement to deliver. If you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of work to do.” He backed away from the podium, and Detective Lujan and Father Oliver joined him as he headed in the direction of the abbot’s office down the hallway behind them.
“Well, that will not give them the headlines they were hoping for,” Daniel stated. “Who are you looking at?” he asked, following Eve’s eyes as she scanned the crowd.
“A blast from the past,” she answered, unable to spot the man again. “And not the good kind.”
TWENTY-ONE
“I’m just going to walk over there and say my prayers,” Eve said when Daniel questioned her about heading down to the guest quarters. Not coming up with a connection between the man with the red hair and the murder, she still hoped to find the professors.
“That’s all you’re doing?” he wanted to know.
“Well, if I happen to run into somebody who was close to Kelly, a colleague, let’s say from Texas, I might want
to welcome them here and ask if I can assist them in any way.”
“If my facts are straight, you don’t live or work here anymore,” Daniel noted.
Eve smiled. “A sister in Christ is willing to help wherever she happens to be.”
“A sister in Christ needs to stay out of trouble,” he replied.
“Which is why I must go and say my prayers,” she explained, turning to walk out the main entrance.
“If I recall correctly, there is no outdoor chapel in the vicinity of the guest quarters,” Daniel responded.
“The last I heard, a person doesn’t have to be in a church to pray,” she replied, standing at the door.
“That’s true,” he said. “But if a person says they’re going somewhere to pray and suddenly finds themselves someplace they shouldn’t be—like a crime scene …,” he emphasized, those four words spoken a bit louder, causing a few people around him to turn in his direction. He smiled at them and then turned back to Eve, his tone a bit softer. “Then that person might later wish that they had gone to church.”
Eve waved to her friend without turning around to acknowledge his warning, expecting him to be at her heels.
“Stay out of the way, Sister,” he called out.
She dropped her hand, and when she didn’t hear him following, she hurried beyond the front door and down the path to the row of guest rooms.
The yellow tape was still wrapped around the first room, one end tied around the doorknob and then wrapped about two poles outside the room, with the other end tied onto one of the chairs that was sitting outside the door next to the small table. Eve could hear voices from inside the room but didn’t recognize any, so she didn’t stop.
As she passed the second room, she noticed that the door was partly open and she decided to peek in to see who had been staying next door to the victim. She quietly knocked on the door, opening it wider as she did so, allowing her to get a better look inside.
It seemed uninhabited. The bed was made; there was nothing on the desk. The curtains on the window were closed. No clothes, bags, or shoes anywhere. She wondered if the monk in charge of cleaning had already done his work that morning or if no one had been registered in the room next to Kelly’s.
She snuck in and sat on the bed. She wondered if the guest in that room had heard anything and assumed that an interview with the person next door to the victim would have been one of the first interviews the police conducted. It was clear that someone in this room had the best vantage point for hearing or seeing anything suspicious. A thought came to her: Kelly had to have known the killer. Otherwise, somebody would have heard a scuffle, a scream, something. Kelly let her killer in either because she knew that person or because the person gained her trust and she invited them in. Or with the unlocked door, the murderer just came in after Kelly had taken the poison.
She stood up, even more resolved to talk to the professors who knew as much about the Blue Nun as the victim did. She walked out and moved past the other rooms, wishing she had gotten the list of assignments from the office at the main building so she could see which guest was in which room, and find out if the two colleagues had made a last-minute room reservation when it was decided they would attend the conference. She knew having that list would have made it a lot easier to find them and subsequently introduce herself to them, allowing her the opportunity to see what they knew about the murder and the discovery of Sister Maria’s writings.
Eve knew she had not heard Kelly mention any colleagues from Texas that she expected to come to the event. And Eve recalled that the detectives in charge of the investigation had mentioned that Dr. Pierce had arrived at Kelly’s room the night of the murder saying that he had only just gotten to the monastery.
Eve walked around the corner of the guest quarters and began looking over the cars parked in front of the rooms and in the spaces in the small lot nearby. Most of them appeared to be from New Mexico, with the bright yellow license plates bearing the red Zia sun emblem that was also on the state flag, the state capitol, and highway markers. There were these as well as a few of the new turquoise plates, with the state name and USA clearly displayed.
Eve knew that this information had been added to both styles of license plates in the last fifteen years or so, since more than a few New Mexicans had been stopped while driving in other states and hassled to show an international driver’s license because it was thought that they were visiting from another country, Mexico. Eve recalled her recent trip to Vegas with Daniel and explaining to a store clerk that she was from New Mexico after being asked if people spoke English there.
“No tanto,” she had finally answered, “not so much.” And the clerk asking simply nodded and smiled, making the final comment that Eve should be careful if she was living out of the States, that it was not always safe to be in those “foreign places.” She and Daniel had a good laugh about that.
In the lot there was a van from California belonging to a group of students and professors she knew who had come from the Jesuit college in Santa Clara, and one from a seminary in Denver. She’d met people from both institutions, and they had enjoyed several meals together. There was also an old white truck just like the one she had seen the night before leaving the grounds. She wondered if the person had left after the commotion and then returned the next morning, and she made a mental note to try to find out who the truck belonged to. She continued searching and finally noticed, between the monastery station wagon and an SUV with Arizona tags, an old green Subaru with Texas plates. It was the only one she saw from the Longhorn State.
Eve walked over to the car, quickly finding on the back window a University of Texas sticker that marked the vehicle as one driven by faculty. The car was dusty, not uncommon for the vehicles in New Mexico, and there was orange mud on all four tires. She moved a little closer, glanced around, and seeing no one, cupped her hand on the driver’s-side window and peeked inside. There was a stack of papers on the passenger’s seat. She couldn’t exactly see what they were, but they appeared to be something from students. She could make out red marks and a number in the right-hand corner of one. Paper cups and empty bags from fast-food places lay on the floorboard, and a gym bag and a pair of sneakers were on the backseat. She could see a few tennis balls on the floor and a couple of other stacks of papers under the canvas bag.
“Is there something I can help you with?” the voice from behind her asked.
Eve, startled by the question, whipped around and stood face-to-face with a tall woman, her long dark hair smoothed back into a ponytail, her hands held at her sides, and a piercing stare clearly focused on the woman peering into the windows of a car that didn’t belong to her.
TWENTY-TWO
“You must be Dr. Taylor,” Eve said, trying to sound as normal as she could and recognizing the professor from the pictures she had seen in her Internet search.
“I must be,” came the chilly response.
Eve held out her hand. “I’m Sister Evangeline,” she noted with her best smile. “I used to be in the community here,” she added.
“Used to be?” the other woman replied, not taking the extended hand. She waited, giving the impression that she wanted to hear more.
“It’s now a monastery for the Benedictine monks,” Eve answered, dropping her hand. “The nuns … we have all found new places to live and serve.”
“Was there some scandal?” Dr. Taylor grinned, raising her eyebrows, appearing to enjoy the idea.
“Only in the fact that we never had a say in the matter.”
“Well, you are a nun, right?” the professor asked, shrugging.
“That’s true,” Eve answered. “And we do take our promise to submit ourselves to the authority of the church quite seriously.”
“Even when they kick you out of your home?” She watched Eve closely.
“Even when they ask us to
move,” Eve answered carefully. “Yes.”
The professor didn’t respond. Finally, she shook her head. “Well, that’s the life you chose,” she said.
Eve nodded, deciding not to explain where she was in her discernment process or to discuss her disappointment and anger about the situation at the abbey.
“So, in spite of your vowed submission, what are you doing here? Looking to steal a car and make your getaway?”
Eve felt her face flush, knowing her hand was clearly in the cookie jar. “I was just admiring the Subaru,” she said cheerfully. “My father needs a new car, and I was thinking this might be a good choice. Is this the ’05 model?” She faced the car, sliding her hand across the front, feigning interest in the small wagon. “Four cylinders?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about cylinders,” the woman answered. “They teach you that in nun school?”
“No, not in nun school,” she said. “As a girl I spent a lot of time with my dad hanging out in the garage,” Eve added. She glanced away from the car and back to the guest from Texas. “Are you here for the conference? Friends with the keynote speaker?” she asked.
The professor studied the woman standing before her. “I got here yesterday,” she answered. “Yes, I know Dr. Middlesworth; we work together at the university.”
Eve nodded.
“How did you know who I was?”
Eve recalled that she had acknowledged the Texan by name when she was startled by her earlier. More backpedaling, she knew. “Kelly showed me a picture.”
Dr. Taylor seemed disbelieving. “Kelly Middlesworth had a photograph of me?”
Eve shook her head. “No, not a photograph, just online, some research she showed me, recent articles about the Lady in Blue. I read some of your work, and I recalled something you had written with Dr. Pierce, I believe, another colleague.”