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 watching 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.
It was John Barr, the red hair and beard obvious as he stopped and made the turn. Eve stared in shock as he drove away with no one else in sight.