False Witness (16 page)

“Hey, pal, she may not have anything for you today, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Pax jumped out of the sidecar and gave her a haughty look that told her he was sure he’d score something.

Sister Agatha passed through the front entrance a moment later.

Michelle looked up and beamed her a smile. “Sister Agatha and Pax, what a pleasant surprise!”

Pax hurried across the room and sat in front of Michelle, who promptly reached into the desk drawer and brought out a dog treat. Pax gulped the green-colored biscuit down in an instant, then placed his massive head on the edge of her desk so Michelle would pet him.

“How’s Sister Gertrude doing?” Michelle asked, her hand on Pax.

Sister Agatha took a seat and glanced absently out the plate-glass window. A dark-green sedan, like the one that had followed her before, drove by and continued down the road.

“Sister Gertrude’s doing fine,” Sister Agatha answered. “I just can’t tell you how much all of us appreciated the medical equipment you loaned us.”

“My pleasure. Besides, the monastery’s prayers are good for business,” she added with a smile.

“So things are going well here?” Seeing her nod, Sister Agatha continued. “I met a new client of yours, a man staying at the Siesta Inn in Bernalillo. He’s one of our monastery benefactors.”

“Ah, Mr. Gutierrez,” Michelle said in a low, thoughtful voice. “That whole business is a bit on the strange side,” she said, then stopped speaking abruptly. “I’m sorry. It was inappropriate of me to make a comment like that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve noticed that our out-of-state visitor is a bit odd, too. In fact, if you know
anything
that’ll help me understand Mr. Gutierrez or Ralph Simpson a little better, I’d sure appreciate you sharing. I’ll keep whatever you tell me confidential.”

After a brief, thoughtful pause, Michelle continued. “The way they handled the equipment rental was really peculiar,
that’s all. Ralph Simpson insisted that there was no need for me to consult with the patient’s health-care people or even arrange for set-up and monitoring. He said they’d handle all that themselves. This equipment is expensive and requires expertise to set up properly, so I insisted. But he never gave an inch. Legally, we
can
rent oxygen equipment and heart monitors directly to a patient, so I went along with them, but I charged them a hefty deposit.”

“Maybe they’re used to handling medical machines and didn’t want to wait.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. I can’t understand why Gutierrez would travel by car all the way down from Denver without portable equipment if he was so ill. If he
had
brought down his own equipment, he also wouldn’t have had to rent it here. There was plenty of room for it in the big van, after all.”

“Those are good points.” After thanking her, Sister Agatha walked back out to the Harley with Pax.

She was pulling out of Priority One when she saw the dark-green sedan again. This time it passed by quickly—much too fast, in fact, for a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone. She was trying to decide whether to follow it or not when the driver left the main road and parked in the driveway of one of the smaller houses in the adjacent subdivision. The car had yellow New Mexico plates.

She
was
getting paranoid. That was all there was to it. Some poor man was trying to get home after work and she’d been sure it was a tail. She took a deep breath then let it out slowly. What she needed now were a few hard facts to go with all her vague suspicions.

Sister Agatha drove back into Bernalillo to the
Chronicle’s
office. As she pulled up, she saw Chuck sitting on the front step, sipping a can of cola.

“Hey, Sister! It’s good to see you, and Pax, too. Janice is off covering some harvest festival, and I’m dying of boredom. Any more excitement come your way?” He reached over and scratched Pax atop the head.

“In a way. Actually, I came hoping you’d help me do some more research. But I’ll still have to ask you to keep it confidential.”

“Sure, but if there’s a story in this, will you make sure
The Chronicle
gets it first?”

“Deal.”

Chuck took her to Janice’s office and slid a chair across from her while Pax lay down in a sunny spot. “Good thing you’ve been coming when Janice is gone,” he said with a grin. “She wouldn’t be as easy to deal with as I am.”

“I appreciate this, Chuck. I really do.”

“Okay, then let’s get started. What do you need, more on that murder witness, Angie what’s-her-face?”

“No, actually, I need anything you can get me on John Gutierrez, the current owner of Luz del Cielo Vineyards and Winery. He’s from Denver, so that’s probably where his headquarters are located.”

“Ah, you’re worried that his check will bounce?” he asked. “People who put on a good show claiming to have money all too often do that to get extra perks. No one knows they’re flat broke until it’s too late to collect on outstanding bills.”

“In this case it’s not that clear-cut,” she said. “I just need to get a better handle on the kind of person the monastery’s dealing with.”

“Sure, Sister Agatha. I’ll help you. I can get anything on anybody on the Internet.”

“I probably don’t have to say this, but keep it legal, okay?”

He scoffed. “Of course. Legal is my middle name. But what you need is going to take more than an article search. We’re going to have to get creative. I’ll begin by using the
Chronicle
’s business status to get a credit report for the vineyard,” he said then, after a moment, added, “Looks like they’re solid. I can’t check on his tax status, of course, but all his bills are paid up. Gutierrez does business under the banner of Moxom Corporation. Weird name, huh?” He did a search on them, then continued. “Moxom owns several other enterprises, too.”

Sister Agatha looked at the screen, standing behind Chuck. “I need all you can dig up on Moxom.”

“Good thing this is a company that trades publicly. That means that we’ve got a huge repertoire of reports we can tap into—from the Securities and Exchange Commission to state corporation ones. Most of that is public domain.”

He typed a password that led him to another database, then glanced up at her. “For the last two quarters, Moxom Corporation has shown a steady rise in profits. They look very healthy.” He leaned back in his chair.

“So John Gutierrez is doing well?”

“According to these corporate numbers, you bet he is.”

Sister Agatha considered what she’d learned. John had mentioned wanting top dollar for the vineyard, which was why he hadn’t wanted to sell to Eric Barclay, the former owner and now caretaker of the vineyard. He could undoubtedly afford to sell it for less, but maybe that was part of what made him so successful—getting the most out of every deal.

From what she’d just learned, John Gutierrez appeared to be pretty much as he’d presented himself—all except for some inconsistencies pertaining to his medical condition. Of course, maybe his symptoms were highly variable at this stage, with
good days as well as bad. Maybe he’d traveled down in another vehicle, or by air, then had Ralph rent the van and the medical equipment just in case of an emergency.

“Can you find anything on a Ralph Simpson? He’s Gutierrez’s assistant,” she asked Chuck after a brief pause.

That request turned out to be harder to fulfill. They needed more than just his name to continue a credit check. Unlike his employer, who had many business assets, Ralph was scarcely a blip on the radar. All they could find out was that he worked for Moxom Corporation. “I can get more for you, but I’m going to need more time.”

“Okay,” she said, then added, “But for now, can you just track down a good close-up photo of John Gutierrez for me? I need something that’ll verify we’ve been researching the right John Gutierrez—bank account notwithstanding.”

Chuck worked all the newspaper archives and even tapped into other regional papers, but came up empty. “I guess he’s just not newsworthy,” he said, “at least visually so.”

“Well, all things considered, that may not be a bad thing,” Sister Agatha said, but before she could go on, her cell phone rang. It was Sister Bernarda.

“Sister Gertrude’s doctor called in a prescription for her, and we need you to pick it up. Sister de Lourdes can’t leave because the computer crashed again. Merilee from NexCen is here working with her. Since the lights have been flickering more than normal, we’re not sure if our computer troubles are the work of Wilder or due to our electrical system. We may have a problem with the main electrical line coming into the monastery. Merilee’s running diagnostics on the computer right now. In the meantime, I’m checking out the circuits with a volt-ohm meter.”

“I’ll go by the drugstore. It’s no problem,” she said, then closed up the phone.

“I’ve got to go, Chuck. Something’s come up,” she said.

“Okay, Sister. I’ll keep digging and see what else I can get for you.”

Sister Agatha went outside and was putting on her helmet when she saw the outline of a person standing in the shadows across the street. Pax noticed at almost the same moment, and growled softly, teeth bared.

By the time she lifted off her helmet for a good look, the person had vanished.

The knowledge that she was still being watched made her uneasy. Maybe someone besides John was using her to find Terri—perhaps Jimmy Garza. The thought frightened her, but she had no time to indulge in those emotions now. She had work to do.

Sister Agatha went to the pharmacy just down the street and waited for the prescription. A moment later, the pharmacist, who was also covering customers at the drive-up window, hurried back to the counter. “It’s almost ready, Sister, but I just spotted someone outside taking a real close look at your Harley. Maybe you should go and introduce him to Pax,” he said only half-jokingly.

Sister Agatha moved to the front door and looked through the glass. A man in a green jacket, sunglasses, and a baseball cap was next to the bike, his face shaded by the bill. Almost as if sensing her eyes on him, he turned and walked away briskly in the opposite direction. “Well, he’s no threat now,” she said.

A few minutes later, prescription in hand, Sister Agatha went outside with Pax. The man in the green jacket was long gone, but she still wanted to check the bike carefully.

Sister Agatha walked around the Harley, verifying that all the connections were still intact on the wiring and twin V engine. Then, as she glanced inside the sidecar, she spotted a small note on the seat. Handling it only by the edges, she brought it out and read it.

Sister Agatha stared at it in surprise, then took the bottle of pills out of the paper sack and placed the note there instead. She’d drop the bag by the sheriff’s station, then continue to the monastery.

N
INE O’CLOCK THE FOLLOWING MORNING FOUND
most of the nuns busy with their work assignments. Sister Bernarda was moving from cell to cell—their bedrooms—adding copper wiring and special wire nuts, then reconnecting each outlet.

The electrician, Mr. Fiorino, had come and inspected her work earlier that day and pronounced it “excellent.” Sister Bernarda had practically beamed when Reverend Mother had thanked her publicly during Chapter.

Sister de Lourdes, with Merilee’s help, had managed to get their computer server up and running again and had untangled a mess with the orders.

For now, things were blessedly peaceful. Then it occurred to Sister Agatha that it shouldn’t have been quite that quiet. The gate repairs should have created a certain amount of chaos.

Sister Agatha glanced outside the parlor window and saw that work on the partially restored gate had come to a stop. Worried, she tried to telephone the contractor to find out why they’d left, but the company’s line was busy.

Sister Bernarda came in then, brushing off her long skirt. “I can take over for you here at the parlor now. I’m out of supplies, so I’ll need to wait for Mr. Fiorino before I continue. Do you need to go into town?”

“Yes, actually I do. I’m very worried about Terri,” she said and explained. “I’m hoping that Mr. Gutierrez is right, and she’s still around, just lying low for the time being.”

“So do I, though my reasons are selfish ones. Did you know that work on the gate has stopped?”

“Yes, and I just tried to call the contractor to see what’s going on, but I haven’t been able to get through.”

“That was a blessing to you straight from God. Lou Curtis, the owner, is
really
angry with us,” Sister Bernarda said, then in a whisper-thin voice added, “Our check bounced.”

“What?
That can’t be.”

“It happened. Apparently there was a misunderstanding between Sister Gertrude and Sister Maria Victoria. She took funds out of the checking account and put them into the savings instead of vice versa.”

“Oh, no!”

“Maria Victoria is a world-class seamstress, but she’s a disaster as the assistant cellarer,” Sister Bernarda said, shaking her head. “I think I could do a better job, and I intend to approach Reverend Mother about it soon.”

“But your schedule is so full already.”

“I’m needed.”

Her response was as simple as it was indicative of the Rule of the Monastery, which required them to put the good of the
community ahead of their own. But, in this particular case, she suspected that Sister Bernarda had more than one reason for wanting to keep busy—she didn’t want time to think about the crisis she was facing.

“But I don’t understand why Mr. Curtis stopped working on our wall. If it’s just a matter of transferring funds, that’s easy enough to fix. The money
is
there.”

“Yes, but since the check bounced, Mr. Curtis has now demanded that we pay the full amount up front. We can’t do that, not even with the money from John Gutierrez.”

“No, I don’t suppose we can,” she said softly. “But if I manage to find Angie Sanchez and earn the rest of the money he promised us….”

“Then you’d better get busy with that,” Sister Bernarda said, sitting down at the parlor desk. “I’ll start a novena asking that you find a quick resolution to Mr. Gutierrez’s problem.”