HER VISIT WITH THE OTHER NEIGHBORS YIELDED NOTHING new. Frustrated, she returned to the monastery.
As a nun, she’d vowed to let God lead her, to relinquish all her own plans and place herself entirely in His hands. Yet truly letting go of her own opinions and ideas about the way things should be done was the hardest challenge of all.
Knowing that reliable intuitions only came during times of inner silence, she decided to walk in the monastery’s grounds with Pax instead of going inside. Surrounded by stillness and peace, she stopped to gaze at a beautiful white butterfly.
Suddenly a brightly colored box came flying over the block wall that separated their monastery from the vineyard next door. Startled, she froze, but Pax shot forward and began nosing the object on the ground.
Sister Agatha listened for whoever had thrown the box but heard nothing outside the wall, not even footsteps. Whoever was responsible was either extremely light on his feet or still there.
She drew closer to the foil gift container—about the size of a shoe box—and saw Pax turn it over with his snout. A dead crow tumbled out, a tiny circular piece of white cloth wrapped around its neck like a nun’s scapular.
Sister Agatha called Pax to her side immediately and placed him at stay. Crouching, she studied the dead bird. Pinned to its chest was one of their monastery’s prayer cards, the small thank-you tokens given to their benefactors. Each contained a promise that the sisters would pray for the donor’s intentions. This particular one had the letters AMDG written in her own hand at the bottom. It meant Ad majorem Dei gloriam, “to the greater glory of God”—a personal touch she added to each card she handed out.
Hearing a door slam, she turned and saw Sister Bernarda jogging toward her. “Don’t touch it!” Sister Bernarda called out. “It could be dangerous.”
“I think it’s only intended as a warning,” Sister Agatha said, stepping aside to give her a clearer look. “I just wish there was some way to tell who originally received that card.”
Sister Agatha went over to the wall, pulled herself up, and looked around. No one was within sight. The long-established grape vines were thick with leaves and afforded many hiding places. She waited for a moment, but nothing changed.
“Maybe we should start making the prayer cards more specific,” Sister Bernarda said.
“It probably wouldn’t have helped, at least not in this instance. There’s no way to prove that this card wasn’t stolen,” Sister Agatha said, studying the crow again without touching it. “Our prayer cards are often left on desks or counters where everyone can see them. I’ve even spotted a few on office bulletin boards.”
“Should I call the sheriff?” Sister Bernarda asked. “I hate to bother him about a dead bird—even one that’s meant to symbolically represent us.”
“I don’t want to legitimize this in any way either, but we have no other choice. We’re not supposed to divert the deputy parked outside unless it’s an emergency, and this doesn’t qualify, but since it’s the second threat we’ve received, Tom has to be told,” Sister Agatha said. “I’ll stay here and make sure no creature comes along and carries the carcass off.” She glanced at Pax, who’d never taken his eyes off the bird. “That means you too, boy.”
The bells rang signaling Sext, the midday canonical hour said after the Angelus at Our Lady of Hope.
“If you’re still out here after prayers, I’ll send you a plate,” Sister Bernarda said.
Sister Agatha thanked her and watched as she went back inside. The largest meal of the day was lunch. She was usually hungry by then, as she was now, since breakfast and collation—dinner—were extremely light.
Alone with what their enemy had left, Sister Agatha prayed for all the sisters. What if Sister Gertrude, with her weak heart, had found this? Grateful that things had worked out the way they had, she gave thanks to the Lord.
Sister Jo came out to meet her a short time later with a plate of food. “This is what the people in our Good News Meal Program received today. Sister Bernarda and I made the deliveries. The butternut squash soup is especially good. Why don’t you sit over there in the shade while you eat, Sister Agatha? I’ll stay and keep an eye on things for you.”
Sister Agatha thanked her, then went to sit in the shade of a tall cottonwood while she ate. Just as Sister Jo had said, the soup in particular was very tasty. As she finished her lunch, she heard a vehicle and saw the sheriff pull up.
Tom hurried over to meet them, studied the box and the bird, then gauged the trajectory by raising himself to the top of the wall for a quick look. Finally he came back to join Sister Agatha. “What bothers me most is that I’ve got a deputy keeping an eye on this place, yet the perp still managed to deliver this package.”
Sister Agatha knew that tone of voice. The deputy would have a lot of explaining to do. “To be fair, the officer was ordered to watch the monastery, not the vineyard next door. Even walking the perimeter, with the high wall, he can’t see more than two sides at a time, and that’s only at the corners.”
“I know the wall is too high to see over, but did you notice anyone in the parking area or around the gates?”
Sister Agatha shook her head, as did Sister Jo.
Tom began taking photos of the box, the dead crow, and the general area with a small digital camera.
“Who’s on duty this morning?” Sister Agatha asked him.
“Officer Bennett. Originally, I’d planned to keep him on desk duty for a while longer, but with the murder investigation, I’m low on deputies.”
“Why didn’t you want him out in the field? I know his family’s in mourning, but he wasn’t close to Jane.”
“I’m worried about the pressure he’s under and how he’ll deal with it.”
“Pressure? What do you mean?”
“When a crime’s committed that involves a member of a police officer’s family, relatives always turn to that officer for answers. Gerry, who’s a pain in the butt on a good day, has been pushing everyone in the department for details of the investigation.”
“I should have told you that when I spoke to him yesterday, he asked me to pass along any information I managed to get,” she said.
“Sounds like Gerry. What did you tell him?”
“Nothing at all, actually.”
“Well, watching the monastery is as close as he’s going to get to investigating his mother-in-law’s murder.”
As they approached Bennett’s patrol car, Sister Agatha glanced at Tom. “Before you come down too heavy on Gerry, keep in mind that it’s likely he was being watched today, too. The person who served up the dead crow undoubtedly made sure Gerry was going to be somewhere else when he made his move.”
“You’re defending him?” Tom asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“No, just pointing out the facts—he was played like the rest of us.”
When Deputy Bennett came over to meet them, Tom told him what had happened, fire in his eyes.
Bennett was quick to defend himself. “Sheriff, I’ve been here all morning. No one went past me unnoticed. I also made the quarter-hour foot patrols. But I can’t be everywhere at once. It takes me five minutes, give or take, just to walk the perimeter.”
“Who came to visit the monastery this morning?” Sheriff Green asked him.
“After Sister Agatha left on the Harley with the dog, a woman visitor drove through the gates and went to the parlor. She stayed for fifteen minutes, then left. Around then, two nuns drove out in the station wagon with a load of food containers, then returned about an hour and a half later. Sister Agatha arrived shortly afterward. Nothing else happened within my view.”
“Someone was able to get close enough to throw that box over the wall,” Tom argued.
“When did that go down?” Bennett asked, sounding even more defensive now.
“Right before noon,” Sister Agatha said.
He considered it briefly, then answered. “They had a crew of laborers at the vineyard most of the morning. I saw them tending the irrigation lines when I went around that side of the property. Any one of them could have tossed the box over the wall.”
“Give us a moment, Sister Agatha,” Tom said, then stepped away with Gerry.
Although she couldn’t hear them, she saw Tom use his radio, and within a few minutes another sheriff’s department vehicle drove up. Shortly afterward, Gerry drove away.
Tom exchanged a few words with the new arrival, then came back to join her. “Officer Bennett’s got court this afternoon, so I decided to get his replacement over here now. You may have met her already. Deputy Laura Sims used to serve with the Baton Rouge Police Department before she relocated to New Mexico.”
“Let me go say hello,” Sister Agatha said. She had come across Deputy Sims during an investigation last year.
Laura was a tall, athletic-looking woman with short-cropped red hair. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with life. “Nothing much gets past me, Sister Agatha,” she said, shaking Sister Agatha’s hand. “It’s a skill I developed as the mom of an active five-year-old.”
“I’m glad you’re here. If you have any problems or questions we can help you with, just let us know,” Sister Agatha said.
“Don’t worry about anything, Sister. I’m Catholic, and I’ll be especially careful not to enter cloistered areas. The nuns taught me too well for that,” she answered with a smile.
Sister Agatha found herself liking Deputy Sims more every time she saw her. “That’s good to hear.”
After saying good-bye to Tom and asking once again to be kept up on any new developments, Sister Agatha walked back toward the parlor.
Before she reached the steps, Sister Jo came out the door. “Reverend Mother wants to speak to you.”
“Has something happened?” Sister Agatha asked, quickening her pace.
“I don’t know. That’s all I was told.”
Sister Agatha hurried inside, wishing that she had something encouraging to report.