Sister Eve and the Blue Nun (34 page)

“It's not him,” she yelled. “It's not Barr.”

It was clearly Barr's truck, and he was certainly recognizable through the windshield. Misunderstanding Eve's revelation, all of the men appeared confused, especially John Barr, who still had his foot on the brake and had raised both hands up above the steering wheel.

“Evangeline, get out of the way,” the Captain shouted. “You're going to get yourself killed.” He had moved closer to her and was holding out his hand, trying to get her to step away from the vehicle.

She stood her ground and shook her head. “No, he didn't do this. He didn't do any of this.”

Daniel, with his revolver still raised, walked slowly over to Eve and her father. He stood just at the front of the vehicle. “Move out of the way, Eve,” he said, gesturing for her to step aside.

She blew out a breath and hobbled over to stand by the Captain. “It wasn't him,” she said again to Daniel as he kept his gun pointed at the man behind the wheel.

“Just get out of the truck nice and slow,” he instructed Barr, apparently not paying Eve any attention.

The Captain took her by the arm and assisted her as they walked behind Daniel. She stopped and turned around, still trying to get the officers to listen to her.

John Barr put the truck in park, turned off the engine, and opened the driver's door.

“Slowly,” Daniel said. “Just step out and turn around and put your hands where I can see them.”

The man stepped out of the car, obeying all of Daniel's instructions. He got a good look at Eve before he turned around.

“Now, put your hands above your head.” Daniel walked over to Barr, pulling out his handcuffs. When he got to him, he cuffed him and turned him around. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“He brought Anthony here,” Eve answered for him.

Daniel turned and gave her a look that clearly told her to stay out of this conversation.

The Captain steered her toward Daniel's car.

“Answer me, Barr, what are you doing out here?”

“I came to check on the two of them,” Barr replied. “She's right, I did bring Anthony here because he was sick and I knew you were searching for him. I thought I could get him better and give him some time to make a plan. I figured you'd find him if he was at my house, so I brought him here.”

“What kind of plan?” Detective Bootskievely had joined Daniel. “Are the two of you in this together?”

Eve shook her head as Barr remained silent.

Detective Lujan had moved to the other side of Barr's vehicle and appeared to be examining the contents of the rear of the truck. Eve watched him as he walked back to the passenger's side and peered through the window. “Do you mind if I take a look inside?” he asked the driver.

“Go ahead,” Barr replied.

The detective opened the door and appeared to go through things he found on the seat. He held up a plastic bag. “First-aid equipment,” he said to his colleagues. He opened the bag. “Bandages, tape, ibuprofen, wraps, antibiotic ointment, clean towels.” He pulled out what appeared to be an inhaler. He held it up. “Who're the poppers for?” he asked Barr.

Barr turned away without responding.

“It's for Anthony,” Eve answered. “He's trying to get the poison out of Anthony. It's the antidote for cyanide—amyl nitrite, right?
He needs it because he was poisoned too, and that means somebody needs to get to him soon.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Officer Bootskievely asked.

She shrugged. “Agatha Christie, Michael Connelly? I don't know. I read a lot of mysteries.”

Daniel glanced over to Lujan without making a comment on Eve's reply.

“I'll check it out,” the younger officer said, seeming to understand the look he had been given. “You want me to drive your car?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, you and Boots take Barr with you, drive his truck with him nice and secure between you both so that he can tell you where he has him stashed. I'll stay here and wait for the ambulance.”

“Take the handcuffs off, Daniel.” Eve was trying to get closer to the truck, but her father had a firm grip on her.

“You need to sit down,” Captain Jackson said to his daughter. “Let me put you in Daniel's backseat. You're starting to look flushed.”

“Well, that's because I am flushed! I'm trying to tell you John Barr isn't a threat. He didn't do anything except try and help Anthony. He's innocent! And I'm flushed because I'm angry that no one is listening to me!”

The Captain had taken Eve by her right arm and was trying to pull her to the other car parked on the road.

“Okay, tell us why you're so sure he's not guilty. Why should we take off the handcuffs?” Daniel had turned and started walking toward Eve.

Bootskievely remained next to Barr. “Tell us, Sister, what you know that we don't know.”

The Captain let Eve go and she limped over to Daniel, who had taken a position between the two vehicles.

“Look at the truck,” she said, stumbling over to him. “Look at the front of his truck.”

All three of the police officers and the Captain turned their attention to Barr's vehicle. Barr watched Eve closely.

“He wasn't the one who hit me,” she said, finally able to get out what she had been trying to tell the men. She felt a little wobbly, but she wasn't about to stop talking. “He's the only one who drives this truck, and he didn't hit me.” She faced Barr. “You didn't hit me. You found me and took me to the cabin to take care of me, just like you're doing with Anthony. And you left to try and find the antidote. You left us water and food. You did your best. You aren't the killer; you're the hero.”

Barr glanced away. “It took too long. I took too long.”

“She's right about him,” the Captain pointed out. “There's been no damage to his vehicle. It's true. He can't be the one who hit Evangeline. But I still don't have the answer to my question, ‘Where the heck is my truck?' ”

Eve opened her mouth to say something else but suddenly stopped. Everything went black, and she collapsed to the ground.

FIFTY-FOUR

“I'll take care of him. I'll take care of him.” Eve woke herself up with the promise she was making and quickly discovered the Captain sitting by her side. She glanced around, trying to figure out where she was, still only one eye opening. Nothing was familiar to her. She was in a bed, tethered to IV lines.

“You're in the hospital,” Jackson told her, sitting up a bit in his chair to get closer to her. “Albuquerque,” he added. “You've had surgery.”

“What?” She tried to make sense of what he was saying. Everything was blurry.

“Surgery, two of them, in fact.” He stood up and leaned over the side of the bed. “They reset your shoulder, which is why your arm is bandaged to your body; they repaired your ankle, which is why your leg is hanging from a pole down there. You've got a bunch of stitches in your head, a bruised pelvis, concussion, damaged eardrum, black eye.” He shook his head. “Well, that's all I can remember. There's some more stuff too.”

She tried to sit up but didn't get very far before she fell back in the bed. She felt queasy and still very confused. “What day is it? How long have I been in here?”

“Now, you see, that's exactly what I asked you after my surgery and you got all snippety. You remember that? Seems like you said, ‘Well, it's three days since the operation, four days you've been in the hospital.' You remember that? You see now why I asked the question?” He was holding the side bars of the bed. She knew he was close to her, but he seemed very far away. “It's confusing being a patient, isn't it?”

Eve closed her eye. It was as if she were being assaulted by sounds. Everything hurt.

“You want some more drugs?” he asked. And before she could answer, she watched as he pressed a button on a machine near her. “It's sleepy time at the push of a button! Works like a charm.”

It wasn't long before she was feeling groggy again. Jackson took his seat. Eve tried to focus on him as well as the others in the room. She was certain he wasn't the only one there, but she was unable to call out a name or put words to her questions. She blinked a few times and fell back to sleep.

When she awoke the next time, the room was dark. She had no idea of the hour. She glanced around. Someone was sitting in the chair next to her. A woman, she thought. She felt comforted by the presence of the visitor and fell back to sleep again.

“Ms. Divine.” Someone was calling out her name, calling it out and mispronouncing it. She wanted desperately to correct them, but she was unable to respond. She felt her right eye flutter as she tried to keep it open. There was light coming in the window, and a woman was standing over her. Another one stood behind her.

“Evangeline, my name is Deedee. I'm your nurse today. How are you feeling? Can you wake up just a few minutes so we can talk?”

“Deedee . . . nurse . . . I . . . I . . .”

“Yes, I know, you're still very wobbly, but it's time for you to rouse a little more than we've seen. It's been awhile. Your dad's been here every day and night. We finally made him go home.”

Eve tried to make herself wake up. The woman talking to her or over her was pulling sheets and checking various places on her body, moving her, shaking her. It was all very uncomfortable.

“Frankly, he needed a shower,” Deedee said, and Eve was unsure of what she was saying.

“The Captain?” Eve asked, trying to put the clues together. Her mouth felt so dry, and it hurt to swallow.

“The very one. He's got a temper, doesn't he? He was bossing everybody around, asking for a written explanation for every procedure we were doing, yelling if he thought we didn't come in fast enough to check on you. He's quite the protector. You should be glad you have him with you.”

Eve wanted to sleep. She just wanted to forget everything and go back to sleep.

“Dr. Moulson should be in to check on the surgery sites. He's just down the hall. You'll like him. He's British.”

There were more things that Deedee was saying, but Eve couldn't quite grasp the words or the meaning. She was still feeling very unsettled. She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep.

“Eve, are you awake?”

Eve opened her eyes, both of them this time. She glanced around, trying once more to get her bearings. She knew she was in
a hospital. She knew she had broken bones and had come through surgeries. A woman stood near the window, but it wasn't her voice speaking to her. She knew her father had been with her, but it wasn't him either. This was another man standing near her.

“I've got the sister duty tonight,” the voice added. “Jackson is back in Madrid. He just left a couple of hours ago. Frankly, I almost had to handcuff him and drag him out of here. He needed to get some rest.”

Daniel. Eve recognized the voice and smiled. She tried to nod, but she felt a sharp jabbing pain in her head when she moved it. She flinched.

“Yeah, you really shouldn't try to move too much. The concussion was a pretty bad one. In fact, everybody's been coming in to look at your injuries. You're quite the star around here. They call you the Bionic Nun. Apparently the doctors and nurses can't believe you walked away from the wreck. They say with the impact you suffered that did this kind of damage, you shouldn't have been able to get up and walk. It's a miracle, actually.”

Eve could hardly make out what her friend was saying. “Anthony?” She was able to say her friend's name.

“Brother Anthony is fine. He's here too, but he's in much better shape than you. He tried to kill himself. He wasn't poisoned like his sister. It wasn't cyanide in his system; it was too many sleeping pills. He's going to be okay.

“Your sister came for a couple of days . . .,” he continued, but then his voice trailed off.

Eve started to drop back off to sleep. She noticed a smile from the woman standing behind Daniel.

“Hi.”

Eve glanced around. Days had run into nights and back into days again. She wasn't sure about anything, but she was starting to feel more clearheaded. She tried to focus on the person sitting next to her.

“You've been through quite a lot,” he said. “You're out of the intensive care unit, though.”

The voice, the face . . . the identity of the person talking to her wasn't quite coming to her.

“You've been having some pretty crazy dreams,” he said.

It was a man. She was able to tell that much.

“I think you've had an angel watching over you. She's been here the entire time,” he added. “You talk about her a lot.” The voice was so smooth, so comforting. “Well, when you're not talking about the murder and who did it, that is.”

A police officer, she thought. And she was about to ask who did it, but then realized who it was.