MINUTES LATER, SISTER AGATHA WAS ON HER WAY TO town with Pax riding in the Harley’s sidecar. The dog held his nose high into the wind, enjoying all the scents around him. Pax instinctively made the most out of each moment, never worrying about either the future or the past. She envied him that.
Soon she arrived in Jane and Louis’s neighborhood. This morning she intended to find out as much as she could about Jane’s life. Jane had discovered something disturbing, and Sister Agatha strongly suspected that learning what that was would lead her to a possible motive for Jane’s death.
Next door to the Sanchez house, on the left side, stood an old stucco home. A lush carpet of weeds choked what had once been a lawn. Chipped yellow paint covered the wooden trim and front door, but the ground was clear all the way to the mailbox.
This was the best place to start. As Sister Agatha pulled up on the Harley, a woman in her late fifties or early sixties stepped out to the front porch, wiping her hands on a dish cloth.
“I’ve heard all about you and your dog, Sister,” she said after Sister Agatha introduced herself. “I’m Christy White. I guess you’re here to help find out why poor Jane Sanchez was killed. It had to be something more than just a robbery gone sour.”
“What makes you say that?” Sister Agatha asked instantly.
“The deputies who came by earlier kept asking me who Jane’s enemies were. That sure sounded like a murder investigation to me.”
“There are a lot of questions that still need answering,” Sister Agatha said, purposely remaining vague. “If you can spare a few minutes, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Sure, come on in. Bring the dog, too. I’m doing some baking, so we’ll talk in the kitchen.”
Unlike the exterior, the interior of the house was well maintained, with a comfortable, lived-in look. An afghan crocheted in pastel colors was draped across the back of the dark blue couch, and a macramé hanging covered one wall.
“Those are lovely pieces,” Sister Agatha said, gesturing.
“I like working with my hands. It helps me relax.”
As they stepped into the kitchen, Sister Agatha saw bowls and floured pans covering all the countertops.
“I’m trying two different recipes at the same time today,” Christy explained. “I’ll be entering the best one in a magazine contest. Last year I won ten thousand dollars for my blue corn and piñon muffins.”
Sister Agatha blinked. “That much for a muffin recipe?”
“There’s a lot of money to be made in these contests—but you have to win, of course.”
Knowing that Sister Clothilde’s recipes were second to none, she considered asking Christy more about it, but before she could, Christy continued.
“But you didn’t come here to talk about my cooking, so let’s get down to it,” she said, stirring a bowl filled with batter. “I’ve been Jane and Louis’s neighbor for many years, and I can tell you that Louis is a good man. I never could stand Jane. Half of the time I wanted to throttle her. But I didn’t kill her.”
“How come you two didn’t get along?” Sister Agatha asked.
“I hated the way she tried to run people’s lives—especially Louis’s—and it was even worse than usual lately.” She lapsed into a long, thoughtful silence, but Sister Agatha didn’t interrupt, wanting her to continue at her own pace.
Finally, Christy spoke again. “She meant well, Jane did, but in an attempt to give him a few more tomorrows she was making his todays completely miserable. Do you get me?” Seeing Sister Agatha nod, she went on. “Poor Louis was having a real tough time with all the rules Jane had laid down, too. That’s why I’d let him sneak over from time to time for a cup of regular coffee and a doughnut, or take him over to the casino on Sundays so he could enjoy their buffet.”
“So you and Jane didn’t see eye to eye on much…” Sister Agatha let the sentence hang, hoping Christy would fill in more gaps.
“That’s absolutely true,” Christy answered, meeting Sister Agatha’s gaze boldly, “but if I killed everyone I didn’t approve of, we’d have a real small neighborhood.”
Sister Agatha chuckled softly.
Christy poured the batter into cake pans, then glanced back at Sister Agatha. “Right now, I’ve got to tell you, I’m more worried about Louis than what happened to Jane.”
“Do you think there’s any way we at the monastery can help him?”
Christy thought it over before answering. “Louis is mad at God. I don’t think he’s ready to listen to anyone or anything.”
“Thanks so much for taking time to talk to me,” Sister Agatha said, standing. “You’ve been a big help, and I enjoyed visiting with you.”
“It was mutual. I work part-time at Rio Casino, in the bakery, naturally, so I’m not always home, but feel free to drop by anytime I’m here.”
“Thanks, and please keep an eye on Louis for us. Sometimes it’s hard for people going through a crisis to reach out and ask for help. Yet that’s the time they need it most.”
“It’s a good thing he’s got friends like you,” Christy said. “His only close relatives are his daughter, Evelyn, and her child, but since he doesn’t get along with his son-in-law…” She shrugged.
“What’s the problem between them?” Sister Agatha asked.
“I’m not sure,” Christy said. “Louis told me once that Gerry was an irritating jerk. That was back when they were all living next door, but things didn’t improve much between Louis and Gerry even after Gerry left.”
Sister Agatha walked to the door. “Thanks again.”
As she walked with Pax back to the Harley, Sister Agatha mulled over everything she’d learned. Christy had seemed very open, but there was more to her involvement with the Sanchez family. She could feel it in her bones.