Bad Samaritan by Aimée Thurlo Read Free Book Online Page B

before he said, “I’m on my way.”
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Sister Agatha asked. “Anything I’d be interested in?”
    â€œHalf the town’s shown up at Mayor Garcia’s home. Victoria’s apparently staying there with him and his wife, Alyssa, and word got around. Neighbors, relatives, and friends of the family are paying their respects—bringing food, flowers, and condolences—the
pésame,
as they say around here.”
    â€œThose things go on for hours. I should drop by, too,” Sister Agatha said, then, after a beat, added, “But not without Sister Bernarda.”
    Chuck smiled. “Makes sense. Mayor Garcia is a marine, and so’s Sister B.”
    â€œThere’s that, and also the fact that the mayor is going to know soon enough that I’m looking into this case on the sheriff’sbehalf,” she answered and stood. “Let’s go, boy.” Sister Agatha attached Pax’s leash, then walked out with the dog just ahead of Chuck.
    â€œJD
wants
the sheriff to be guilty. That’s going to make things real interesting for both you and Sheriff Green.”
    Chuck had spoken softly, almost under his breath, but the warning was clear. Worst of all, she knew it was the truth. Tom and she were both in for a major battle.
    Once Sister Agatha arrived at the monastery, she joined the sisters at the refectory for their main meal of the day, served promptly at 1:00 P.M. Sister Maria Victoria was reading from the Martyrology that detailed the ultimate sacrifices made by the saints for the love of God. Hearing about their travails could curtail even a healthy person’s appetite, but that wasn’t a problem for Sister Agatha today. She was famished.
    As she ate the broccoli and corn casserole that Sister Clothilde had lovingly prepared and left frozen, ready to reheat, she remembered the older nun with fondness. Until her departure, Sister Clothilde had been an integral part of daily life at Our Lady of Hope Monastery.
    Now, the monastery was in a state of suspension. Their peace was an uneasy one—the quiet before the storm of upheaval struck.
    As Sister Agatha glanced around the room, she saw that Sister Eugenia’s worried gaze was focused exclusively on Reverend Mother. Their prioress looked worn-out and frail, a result of the constant pressure she’d battled this past year. Too many bills, not enough donations. Although their lifestyle was simple, costs had soared, and their funds were barely sufficient to cover basic needs.
    As Sister Agatha tried to push back the darkness that burdened her soul, her gaze fastened on Sister Ignatius, whose face mirrored only peace. Even now her faith hadn’t wavered. In trying times, she was a lesson to all of them. Though her prayers never went unanswered, she hadn’t asked the Lord to keep their monastery open. She’d only prayed that they’d be given the strength to accept His holy will, and asked that His angels camp around them and keep them safe.
    After their meal, Sister Bernarda met Sister Agatha in the corridor. “I spoke to Reverend Mother, and she has given me permission to go with you to pay our condolences to Mrs. Garcia.”
    â€œGood,” Sister Agatha said. “I doubt that the mayor will be pleased to see me, but if both of us are there, it’ll defuse the situation and give me a chance to talk to a few people.”
    They were on their way in the Antichrysler moments later, Sister Bernarda at the wheel. This time Pax had to remain behind. Unhappy about that decision, he raced after the car. True to his training, however, he came to a sudden stop at the gate and stared mournfully at them as they continued down the dusty road.
    â€œSister Gertrude e-mailed us this morning. She can’t wait to see Pax again,” Sister Bernarda said.
    Sister Agatha shifted the box of cookies she held on her lap as she turned toward her companion.