Sister Eve and the Blue Nun (25 page)

“Holy cow!” Eve jumped to her knees, but much to her surprise, the dog only yawned, looking at her with slight interest. This was an old dog, she thought, clearly not kept by Barr to guard the premises. Eve waited a second, but as soon as she realized he was not going to attack, she got up on her knees beside the bed and petted the large animal. The dog was male, and she made a guess that he was over twelve years old. It was also soon evident that the big mutt was blind, his eyes glazed over with a thick film, unable to focus on the woman who had just entered his home.

“Well, look at you,” she said, giving the dog a good scratch. The dog leaned forward, his nuzzle touching Eve's face, and she was instantly given a firm, wet lick that stretched across her mouth and nose.

“Okay, okay,” she said, wiping her face but still petting the dog. “You don't have to be that generous with your welcome!”

Eve stood up and took her first glance around the room. There
was a closet on the front wall near the door, a dresser and tall straight-backed chair next to it. There was just the one bed, topped with several old quilts and with a small table beside it, a lamp on top, a small alarm clock, and a book, the Bible, a very old edition, situated next to a rosary and a pair of reading glasses.

She moved toward the bedroom door, noticing the few knick-knacks on the dresser, an ashtray that held coins, a small cigar box, a picture of a couple taken a long time ago, and a stack of handkerchiefs. She turned to notice that the old dog was not joining her. He was not getting up from his resting place.

“So, are you here alone?” she called out to the pet. She turned back to him, and it appeared as if he was deaf as well, having dropped his head back onto the pillow, clearly not paying the unexpected visitor any attention.

“I'll take that as a yes,” she answered herself and moved into the hallway, hoping still to find some evidence that Anthony was close by. There was a small bathroom on the right, a toilet and sink, a narrow shower. Eve walked in and noticed a cup with a toothbrush on the back of the sink, a towel hanging on a rack, shampoo and soap in the corner of the shower. Everything appeared neat and clean, and she was a bit surprised that a man living out in the canyon alone like Barr would take such effort to keep his cabin clean.

It was clear that John Barr didn't have much, but it seemed to Eve that what he had was kept tidy and straightened, with everything in its place. She walked a few more feet and found herself in the living room, the room she could see from the front window, the same window that this time she was looking out as she entered the area. She could see her truck outside but nothing else along
the driveway or coming in her direction, hoping that meant she had more time to snoop around.

There was no television or phone that she could see anywhere around. She did notice a small radio on a shelf near the kitchen, an old one, a transistor type that appeared to run on batteries, and an antique clock that was ticking away the seconds. There was a thick wool blanket on the back of the sofa, magazines and newspapers stacked in the corners, and the recliner facing the window was old, the fabric worn. Next to it was a tall lamp, its base made from an old butter churn, and a stack of books placed near.

She walked into the kitchen, peeked in the refrigerator, and discovered Barr didn't keep much food on hand. There were several bottles of water, a large helping of cheese, a bag of tortillas, salsa, a couple of jars of mustard and ketchup, and plastic bags of sandwich meat. She closed the door. A big bag of dog food sat next to the appliance. Food and water bowls were positioned next to the sink on the floor. Two cups, two saucers, and one spoon were drying on a rack, but that was not really proof there had been two people in the house.

“Mr. John Barr, have you entertained company?” Eve looked around at the meager belongings of the single man, realizing she was finding nothing of consequence.

She went back into the living room and walked over to the stack of books she had noticed by the recliner and picked up the one on top. As she did, she immediately noticed that all of the books in the stack were about Sister Maria de Jesus de Agreda.

In addition to the books, there was a folder of articles from magazines and journals about the Spanish nun. She put down
the books and flipped through the contents of the folder, finding in addition to the articles a map with markings near one of the places she knew that scholars had declared as being the spot where the Lady in Blue appeared to the Jumano Indians, a map of the Manzano Mountains with a star near the village of Punta de Agua, a place near the national monument known as Quarai at Salinas Pueblo Missions. It was the site where a large tribe of Indians resided around the 1600s and one of the places where it was said that the Blue Nun appeared to them. She put the folder down, thumbed through the books, and thought about John Barr's apparent curiosity concerning the Blue Nun.

Nothing in the collection seemed strange to Eve; she'd probably had copies of the same books and articles at one time or another. And there was nothing that connected him to Kelly. This was no obsession with one particular scholar, just interest in Sister Maria, and this information that she had gathered about John Barr gave no clue to the whereabouts of Anthony. Surely Barr was interested in the Blue Nun or he wouldn't have been at the conference.

She finished snooping through the books and papers and reorganized the stack exactly as it had been before she rifled through it, and then glanced around a final time.

This was clearly a house of one man and one man only, a man and his blind, deaf dog, Eve thought, and it did not appear that he was hiding a fugitive. It could be true, she thought, that he may have given Anthony a ride from the monastery to some other place, but it certainly didn't appear as if the monk had ever been in this cabin. She sighed and headed to the bedroom to make her exit, but something stopped her at the door.

It was just a flash of color that drew her eyes to it. In fact, she noticed it only after she had taken a few minutes to glance one last time around the bedroom. She turned to her left and saw it just behind the closet door, hanging on a nail or hook of some kind. She walked over to the closet, opening the door only slightly, and at first she thought it was just Barr's bathrobe or a towel from the shower. However, even though she couldn't put her finger on it, she was sure there was something familiar about what was hanging there, something she was certain she had seen before.

She opened the door wider, getting a better look, and immediately felt the air leave her body. She froze for a minute and then swallowed hard as she raised the bottom of the long cape that was hanging on the door, quickly discovering the seam that was ripped from the back of the cloak.

She reached into her pocket, her hands suddenly shaking uncontrollably, and pulled out the fragment of material she had taken from Kelly Middlesworth's fingers. She held it up to the blue cape.

It was a perfect match.

THIRTY-NINE

“Hail Mary, full of grace . . .” Eve said the words out loud, praying the prayer as she closed the closet door and made her way to the window as quickly as she could. The old dog raised his head, lifting his nose as if something had captured his attention, sniffing and sniffing until he slowly got up from the bed, moving toward the front of the house.

Eve didn't wait to see where he was going. She hurried to get out of the window, placing her hands on the floor, sliding out feet-first and dropping to the bench beneath it. She leaned in, feeling for the screen, and quickly snapped it in place and pulled the window down to where she remembered it had been. That was when she heard the old dog bark. Someone or something was heading in her direction.

She wasted no time jumping from the bench and then picking it up, carrying it as fast as she could, and placing it carefully once again by the front door. As she ran toward the truck, hoping to
get in and down the driveway before whatever or whomever the dog smelled got any closer, she started feeling in her pockets for her keys.

She knew that she had been cautious enough to stick the piece of torn material back in her pocket and careful enough to keep her keys on her person. What she realized as she hurried to the driver's side of her father's truck was what she had not been cautious with and what had consequently fallen out of her pocket somewhere in her entry or escape out the window: her phone. She had lost it, dropped it somewhere in John Barr's house. She stopped for a second, thinking about going back to look around, when she saw the truck coming up the driveway. It was too late. John Barr had returned.

Eve tried to calm her breathing and to appear as comfortable and natural as she could. She reached up and rubbed her neck and tried not to think about what he would eventually find in his house. She had just made it to the door on the driver's side of the truck. She turned back to the house where she could hear the old dog barking, took in one deep breath, plastered a big smile on her face, and turned back around to greet the man in the oncoming truck. She watched as John Barr exited his vehicle and walked toward her. It was clear that he was not pleased to have company.

“Hello,” she said with as much ease as she could squeeze into her greeting. She stayed where she was as he came over to her. They stood face-to-face. He was only slightly taller than Eve, and his face was as red as his beard.

He didn't say a word, simply glancing first at Eve, then at her truck sitting in his driveway, over in the direction of his house,
and then again to the woman standing in front of him, the woman with a big grin still stuck on her face.

“Can I help you?” he asked, the tone of his voice offering no hospitality, kindness, or pleasantries.

She stuck out her hand. “I'm Evangeline Divine,” she said, thinking honesty was best and wondering if he would remember her from his many trips to the monastery, wondering if she looked different out of her habit and in street clothes.

He didn't answer, and she couldn't tell if he knew her identity or not. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him, and then she recalled the press conference from just the day before. She had met his eyes then. Had he noticed her there?

“It seems that I'm lost,” she said, changing her mind and thinking too much honesty might not be the best way to go with this conversation. He showed no signs of recognition, and she hoped he didn't remember her face, hoped he didn't recall her from the monastery, either from the early days when she lived there or from the media event just the day before.

“Is the campground farther down?” She pointed to her left, the direction of the entrance where she had been earlier.

He didn't answer.

“I turned down this driveway because I couldn't see a house and I thought maybe this was the way to the camping sites, but now that I've gotten here, it's clear that I'm not at the right place.” She grinned and held up both of her hands, trying to give the image of somebody clueless.

“It's a couple of hundred yards to the west.” He never took his eyes off of Eve, never smiled, never showed anything other
than suspicion and distrust. He appeared exactly the way he had appeared every time she'd seen him at the monastery, mad and aloof.

“That's what I thought once I got out of my truck and looked around.”

She waited, but there was no response.

“This is a nice place you have out here.”

The man kept a close eye on her, and she knew how unlikely her story sounded. Who doesn't know the difference between a cabin, a private residence, and a national forest campground?

“I got out to ask somebody, well, ask you, I guess, where the campground is.”

He didn't respond, and they could both hear the dog barking from inside.

“Wow, that sounds like quite a guard dog you've got in there.” She pointed with her thumb to the house behind her. “Bet you don't have many intruders or thieves around your place.”

“Campground's closed,” he announced. He turned aside from Eve and peered into the front seat of the truck. She hoped there was nothing inside to give her away, hoped the revolver hadn't slid out from under the seat.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “I was just scouting a few places for this summer. You see, I used to camp a lot at Holy Ghost and some at Jack's Creek. I've never been out to Panchuela, so I thought I'd drive out here and get a peek before I make reservations.”

He did not reply. The line of his mouth had thinned and hardened even more.

“Is the gate open at the campground? Might I be able to walk
around and take a look?” She hoped she was sounding believable by this time in the conversation.

He shook his head and glanced again at her vehicle.

“You backed in from the road?”

Eve felt her face flush. She cleared her throat and thought for a second, knowing she didn't have a quick answer for that. She glanced behind her.