Sister Eve and the Blue Nun

by Lynne Hinton

  Their mother had written down all of the recipes, saying that perhaps at some time her daughters might want to cook, but so far neither Divine girl could come anywhere close to their mom when it came to making a meal.

  “You want a few for the road?” Jennifer had another basket in her hand. She was offering Eve some more sopapillas.

  Eve smiled and patted her belly. “I think I should just stick to one,” she answered.

  “Sure?” Jennifer tempted her. “We can’t save them for lunch. Ralph is going to make another stack.”

  “Well, in that case,” Eve responded, “I’ll take them.”

  Jennifer grinned. “Let me get you a bag,” she announced and headed toward the kitchen.

  Eve drank some of her water and took a couple of small containers of honey. She reached in her back pocket to get some cash.

  “Here you go,” Jennifer said as she placed the bag in front of Eve. She also pulled out a small pad and tore off the top page. It was the check for breakfast.

  “Can you tell me what the camping is like at Panchuela?” This was the direction she decided to take. She was worried that to ask about Mr. Barr specifically might sound a little too nosy for a stranger.

  The waitress shrugged. “What exactly do you want to know?”

  I want to know where your so-called boyfriend’s cabin is, Eve thought but instead answered, “Are there a lot of trails?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I’m not much of a hiker,” she replied.

  “Is the road to the campground a good one or does it get pretty muddy up there?”

  She thought for a second. “There’s just the forest road into the campground and I think the rangers keep it pretty cleaned up. Not now, of course; they’re all closed until Memorial Day.”

  “Right, I’m just scouting for some places for the summer.” She waited a second. “So, it’s not hard to find the camping sites?” Eve asked. “The road goes right up to them?”

  “State Road 223 ends at Jack’s Creek. Take that, and just past Windsor you’ll go west. As far as I remember there are just turnoffs from the main road going to the listed campsites. Panchuela is the only thing off the road out there. There’re a couple of cabins on the way, a few locals live out there, but there’s not too much else north of here. If you stay on 223, you won’t get lost.” She seemed to be studying Eve. “You going out there by yourself?” she asked.

  Eve nodded. “Yeah, I like camping alone. I go to Holy Ghost all the time and camp by myself.”

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “Well, be careful when you do that. There’re some crazy people around.” And she turned and walked back to the kitchen.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Eve knew she needed to call the Captain. He had made it clear that he wanted hourly phone contact while she was gone and she hadn’t talked to him since she left the monastery. She pulled out her cell, which she realized had been turned off, and started to punch in his number. Immediately she could see that he had already tried to reach her. Several times. She decided not to listen to the voice mails since she was pretty sure they would all say the same thing, simply growing in volume and intensity.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  “EVANGELINE DIVINE, YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE FOR NOT CALLING ME!”

  He was screaming so loud she had to pull the phone away from her ear.

  “I’VE GOT DANIEL UPSET AND SUSPICIOUS AND NOW THAT TAOS DETECTIVE KEEPS RINGING ME UP ASKING ME WHERE YOU ARE!”

  He continued to shout, and Eve waited until she thought he was through. She did feel herself perk up a bit when he mentioned Detective Lujan.

  “DANIEL DOESN’T BELIEVE YOUR GRIEVING IN THE DESERT STORY!”

  There was a pause. Eve pulled the phone back to her ear to listen.

  “ARE YOU STILL THERE?”

  She jerked it away again and waited. “I’m sorry,” she finally responded. “I fell asleep,” she added.

  “It’s after ten o’clock,” he said, his voice back to a normal volume.

  “I know, I know,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I guess I was more exhausted than I thought.”

  Eve had left the parking lot of the two Tererro establishments and driven back to the wildlife parking area where she had been earlier. There was another truck in the lot and a couple of men were getting out. They were carrying fishing poles and were dressed in waders. They glanced over in her direction.

  “Where are you?”

  She started to say her location and then stopped herself. “Why did you take the bike?” she asked, using the diversion tactic.

  “Because I didn’t want you out somewhere in the middle of the night on that thing.” He paused only briefly. “And don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m okay,” she noted, still not revealing her location. “I just need to check out a house. I’ll be back at the monastery before vespers.”

  “What time is that?” The Captain could never remember the daily hours at the community.

  “Five o’clock.”

  “It’s going to take you six hours to check out a house?”

  She realized that was not the answer he wanted to hear.

  “I said I’d be back before five o’clock; that could be anytime this afternoon,” she said, trying to sound comforting, trying to assure her father that she was not in any danger.

  There was no reply, but she could hear him breathing. She waited.

  “Look, something else has been discovered,” he announced. “They’ve found something else.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You still there?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “What else has been discovered? Does it have anything to do with Anthony? Is it evidence that he isn’t involved in the murder?”

  “They found some money in his room.”

  Eve couldn’t believe what he was saying. “How much money?” She knew the nuns and monks rarely had any personal cash. The vow of poverty was a real one for those choosing the religious life. Community members had cash only if they were making small purchases for themselves or were planning to go shopping for the entire monastery.

  “About a thousand dollars,” came the response.

  This was indeed very unordinary, and she understood that it didn’t look good for the young monk. It gave rise to the suspicion that he was not who he appeared to be. It created doubt about his vows, about his intentions, about everything.

  “Well, it was put there by someone else.” She couldn’t believe Anthony would have access to that kind of money. “It has to be someone setting him up, the same one who called the police. It has to be the killer still trying to pin the murder on the victim’s brother.”

  She heard the long breath of exasperation.

  “Eve, I don’t want you confronting this guy alone. Go back to the monastery and tell the detectives what you know. Let them search for Anthony; they won’t hurt him.”

  “No, they’ll just take him in and question him for hours, giving more time for the real killer to get away.”

  “It’s Daniel we’re talking about here. He’s not going to arrest the boy unless there’s proof, unless there’s a confession.”

  “They say they have a confession,” Eve argued. “They have the letter. They have eyewitnesses putting him at the scene. Besides, Anthony is likely to confess just because he’s so messed up about this.” She hesitated. “No, I will find him first and let him know everything. I want to be with him if he goes to the police. I have to make sure he’s safe and that he doesn’t say something stupid to them.”

  “And you won’t even tell me where you are?”

  “It doesn’t really matter where I am. He’s probably not even here,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “This was just a long shot that I thought I should try.�
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  There was no response.

  “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard.

  Another car pulled into the parking lot. A young couple looked as if they were going hiking. Eve watched them as they got out of their car and loaded up with backpacks and hiking sticks. She envied their ease, their simple plans for a lovely mountain walk.

  “Leave your phone on,” he instructed her.

  Eve pulled her attention back to the conversation she was having with her father. “What were you thinking leaving me the gun?”

  “I told you that if you were going to engage in dangerous endeavors, you were going to be prepared.”

  “It isn’t a dangerous endeavor,” she pointed out. “Anthony is a friend and he is a monk. He is not a killer.”

  “You didn’t think he was a thief either,” the Captain replied. “But he is,” he added.

  “He borrowed some old papers, some very interesting old papers, to impress his sister. He was going to take them back.”

  “That’s not what the tribal officials believe.”

  “How do you know what they believe?” She wondered how much her father had learned about the visitors who had come to the monastery. She wondered if he knew about the archbishop’s stop as well.

  “Daniel.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that the governor from Isleta was gravely concerned about the monk who had been working on the church. He and the priest say that more than just these writings have been stolen. They claim other things are missing.”

  Eve shook her head. It just wasn’t true and she knew it. Anthony was not that guy. He would not steal for personal gain. She had to find him to get him to go back and explain the truth. “I’ll call you when I get back,” she said.

  “Eve.”

  “Yes?”

  “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Okay,” she answered softly, and then promptly ended the call.

  THIRTY-SIX

  The road from the little town of Tererro wound around the Pecos River, becoming more and more narrow before the pavement ended at the tiny village of Cowles. Eve kept heading north on the dirt road before she found the marked path to Panchuela, west of the recreational area known as Jack’s Creek. She made the turn, slowing down as she headed toward the campground. Just as the waitress had reported, there were driveways off the road, a couple of them leading to cabins that she could see from the road. She slowed at each one, trying to see if there was something identifying the houses, something letting her know which one was Barrr’s, but there was nothing. She couldn’t even see the end of the second driveway to make sure it was, in fact, a house, but she assumed it must be since it was in between two other private residences. She drove down to the end of the road, stopped, and then turned around at the entrance to the campground. She faced the direction from which she had just come.

  Assuming that no one was at home at any of the houses, Eve was at a loss to figure out which one was Barr’s. Should I just knock on each one, snoop around? she wondered. And what is it that I plan to say to the man, anyway?

  Eve thought once again about the new information her father had given her. Money found in Anthony’s room, a lot of money. It was more circumstantial evidence against him. Whoever was pinning this murder on the monk was covering all the bases. Give him motive with a witnessed argument with the victim. Show him to be less than honest by making sure everyone knew the writings that had been in his possession were stolen from the Isleta Pueblo. Make him look guilty with a confession letter. Place him at the scene of the crime with what turned out to be the murder weapon. Have him disappear and then plant a large amount of cash in his room. Eve hated to admit it to herself, but even she was starting to wonder about the innocence of her friend.

  She shook her head at everything pointing in the monk’s direction. Motive, opportunity, confession, running away; the evidence, circumstantial or real, was certainly mounting against him. She turned off the engine and waited for something to happen, but what that something would be she didn’t have a clue.

  Her phone started to ring and she glanced down, noticing Daniel’s name and number. She quickly powered it off. She knew having a conversation with him, even though he was a personal friend, would not be helpful at that particular moment. Plus, she didn’t want to lie to him about her whereabouts and she knew he would ask. It was better, she thought, just not to have a conversation than to have one that would be mired in deceit.

  A few minutes passed and she turned the phone back on, noticing the indicator that there was a new voice mail, which caused Eve to remember the other messages she had not heard. She had assumed that all of the ones noted were from the Captain, but she thought as she waited at the end of the road that perhaps there were others. She scrolled through the screens until she found the one listing the voice mails. She wasn’t too far off. There were five from the Captain, all of which she deleted without hearing. And there was the new one she knew to be from Daniel. She decided not to listen to that one either. But there was also a seventh voice mail listed, one with a New Mexico area code but not a number she recognized. It had been recorded at six thirty that morning, a few hours before she had awakened. She touched the play icon and waited.

  “Sister.” It was a voice that was familiar but not one that she immediately recognized.

  “I’m calling because you weren’t in chapel again.”

  There was a hesitation and Eve felt her pulse quicken.

  “You missed lauds and Mass yesterday, and today you’re absent from the Office of Vigils. I’m just wondering where you are.”

  “Detective Earl Lujan.” Eve whispered his name.

  “So, anyway, if you’d like to talk about Sister Maria and what the victim had in her possession at the time of her death, what it all means, or if you just want to run past some of your ideas or theories about suspects, you can reach me at this number.”

  There was another pause.

  He cleared his throat.

  “I saw you leave,” he added, surprising Eve with his announcement. “It doesn’t really matter, of course; you’re certainly free to come and go as you like. I just thought it was a strange time to drive away, that maybe you’re upset or …” He paused again. “I don’t know.”

  Eve closed her eyes. She had been seen making her exit, and she worried that maybe he had followed her or maybe he had told Bootskievely and Daniel.

  “I haven’t told my partner, if that’s what you think,” he said as if he had read her mind. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  She listened closely as he gave his phone number and then ended the call. And then, without fully understanding why, she played the message again. And oddly enough, one more time. Finally, she powered off her phone once again and placed it on the seat beside her.

  “What is this?” she asked herself, referring to the unusual emotions she felt, the flips her stomach was making, the strange way the detective kept showing up in her thoughts. I do not need this, she thought, without completely understanding what this actually was.

  She yanked the rearview mirror so that she could look at herself. She smoothed down her hair, pulling loose strands behind her ears, and slid her fingers across her eyes. She rubbed her chin, sliding her hand down her throat until she felt the crucifix necklace she wore, the one Earl Lujan had noticed and consequently revealed his own sacred jewelry. She fingered the cross, watching herself in the mirror, and then placed the pendant under her shirt and flipped the mirror back.

  He had watched her drive away from the monastery at three in the morning. He had not followed her, at least she didn’t think he had, and he did not tell his partner or probably anyone else what he had seen. And yet he was concerned. Or so he said. Maybe he was just suspicious. Maybe he was watchi
ng her, actually had her under surveillance, because he found her with Anthony’s letter and because he could tell she knew more than she was saying.

  Detective Bootskievely didn’t concern Eve; he seemed to discount her knowledge or interest in the murder and seemed to be paying attention to the concrete things of the case, the toxicology report, fingerprints, witnesses. The other detective, however, Earl Lujan, the rookie officer from Taos, seemed to have his attention pointed right at her. He showed up everywhere she was. He let her keep the letter and then he took it. He knew when she didn’t go to chapel. It was weird, she thought, but she knew she needed to be careful and she needed to control these strange responses every time he showed up.

  Eve gently slapped her face a few times, trying to be as alert as she was able, not just to try to find John Barr and then talk to him to see if he knew anything about Anthony, but also not to let a police detective use her to get to the monk. She didn’t want to be some avenue to their suspect, some source of information of where they might find Anthony to interview or arrest him. She knew she had to be at her best, careful not to be followed or tripped up.

  And yet, even as she imagined that Detective Lujan distrusted her and was keeping his eye on her because of suspicion, she couldn’t help thinking there was something else between them, something she wasn’t sure she knew how to name or understand.

  Eve was about to start the engine and drive back to the monastery. She didn’t know how to find out which cabin was John Barr’s, and the thought of knocking on all three doors looking for the missing monk seemed more and more to be a wild-goose chase. She figured she should simply go back to Pecos. She decided that she could probably do more to help Anthony’s case from there.

  She was putting the car in gear to move forward when suddenly a white truck pulled out of the driveway of the second cabin, a white truck with a broken taillight. She kept her grasp on the gearshift and froze. She couldn’t believe what, or rather whom, she was seeing.