Bad Samaritan (29 page)

“But things didn't go as you'd planned,” Sister Agatha prodded after Victoria had been silent for some moments.

Victoria nodded. “Once the baby was born, I figured I was safe. No matter what, I knew Robert would never admit that the child wasn't his. My baby would be raised as a Garcia—with all the advantages that come along with that. For a while, everything worked out, too, but when other health concerns came up, and Robert got tested, he
knew
—and he was furious. He thought I'd gone to a sperm bank, so I let him go right on believing that. I even took a page from his own playbook and bribed a few people to back up that story.”

“What you did . . . having your own child . . . cost you more than you ever realized,” Sister Agatha said.

“Yes, but I don't regret it, not for an instant. RJ means everything to me—and I'll do whatever it takes to protect him.” She met Sister Agatha's gaze and held it. “Reconsider my offer, Sister. You'll come out ahead, and no one, especially RJ, will be harmed.”

Shaken to the core by the tape and uncertain what to do next, Sister Agatha stood. “Let me speak to Reverend Mother. I'll come back later.”

“If I'm not here, I'm at 105 Chamisa Lane, the house with the lion sculpture on the front lawn.”

Sister Agatha gathered up Pax and walked back to the motorcycle. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she placed a trembling hand on the dog and waited before switching on the ignition. The feel of Pax's muscled and toned body beneath her palm steadied her. “I wish we could go home, Pax, but we have other business to attend to first,” she said quietly.

She was well away from the neighborhood when she finally pulled over to the side of the road and called Detective Marquez. “I assume you heard all that, including the recording Victoria played for me.”

“Yeah, but we still don't have enough solid evidence to arrest Russo,” Frank replied.

“She won't implicate Al, so let's see what we can work out from the other direction.”

“You want to put some pressure on Al next?”

“Yeah, I do. How about sending out a deputy to pick up Victoria and have her brought in for questioning. Then make sure Al sees her being brought in.”

“I'm following you. I'll tell him that Victoria's being arrested for the murder of her husband. Then we'll see how things play out,” he said.

“Once he's released, I'll push his buttons. I'll mention the missing piece of evidence—that autographed Isotopes roster. If
he gave it to RJ, he's sure to want to get it back pronto. I think he already knows where RJ keeps it,” she added, remembering the conversation the day of the funeral.

“Works for me. Prod him some more by pretending to let it slip that we'll be doing a full house search tomorrow for anything that might connect Victoria to the murder.”

“He might try to go around us directly to the source, so we'll also need to make sure he can't reach RJ,” Sister Agatha said. “How about if I tell him that RJ's spending time with his aunt since the Realtors will be at the house this afternoon? I'll say that with his mother in jail, Alyssa took RJ on an outing, but they'll be back later this evening, and she'll be spending the night with him at the house. My guess is that, knowing Alyssa's penchant for sleeping pills, he'll feel it's safe for him to enter the house tonight under the cover of night. If you plant cameras in critical areas and have someone tail Al, you'll get your evidence.”

“Sounds good. One more thing. I could cut you some slack and give you time to take advantage of the deal Victoria offered you. If she signs a promissory note, that money—”

“Is still not ours,” Sister Agatha said firmly. “I don't even have to ask Reverend Mother. I already know what her response would be. God provides for us. If we look away from Him and start looking to ourselves for answers, we've already lost a far bigger battle than the one before us right now.”

“I understand. Okay, then, I'll get busy. Where will you go after speaking to Al, Sister?”

“Home to spend some time in prayer. I need to prepare for the battle ahead. After that, if it's okay with you, I'll head to Victoria's and make myself comfortable in the little boy's bedroom.”

“No problem. I'll be there by the time you arrive. Use the back door. The boy's room will have been properly staged by
then, too. All that Al's going to find under those covers is pillows.”

“Al will look, too. I've seen how close he is to RJ. I'm sure he'll want to take his son with him when he makes a run for it.”

At the station some time later, Sister Agatha waited in the parking lot until she saw Al coming out the entrance.

“Mr. Russo,” she said, going over to meet him. “I know about Victoria's arrest. I was there when the deputies came. They were looking for an autographed baseball roster they think might be important. I don't think they found it, but they did take her into custody. Did you get a chance to see her? How's she doing?”

“They brought her in a while ago, but we never got a chance to talk,” he said. “Tell me, Sister, do you know what happened to RJ? I'm really worried about him now that his support system is breaking down.”

“Don't worry. For now he's fine. Alyssa took him to an Albuquerque park so he'll be out of the way of the Realtors who are coming by the house this afternoon. Later tonight, they'll be back. With all the changes around him, they felt it's important for RJ to sleep in his own bed, so Alyssa will be spending the night there with him. I also understand that she plans to apply for custody of RJ if Victoria goes to trial. JD and Alyssa are very fond of RJ.”

“If you say so, Sister,” he said, his voice hard.

“Of course, we still don't know if Victoria's going to trial, and even if she does, it's still way too early to know if she'll be convicted. Either way, I'm sure RJ will be fine. The Garcias take care of their own,” she said. “This isn't your problem, though.
You have to find a new job now that your boss is with his maker.”

“Yeah. My future's at hand, and it's time for me to start making some plans. Thanks for the information, Sister. Have a pleasant evening.”

Wondering which car contained the deputies who were tailing him, Sister Agatha watched as Al drove off. Shortly thereafter she was on her way back to the monastery. If there was ever a time that begged for prayer and help from above, it was now.

By the time the sun had set, Sister Agatha was back in town. Marquez's deputies, working in teams, had kept Russo under surveillance, and everything was running on schedule.

Sister Agatha parked the Harley along the bosque on the ditch road a quarter mile from Victoria's house; then she and Pax walked over. As they reached the door, it opened. Marquez stood just out of view.

“Glad you remembered to keep the Harley out of sight. We're all set up here. We've got cameras hooked up in several places, including the boy's bedroom,” he said. “Let's just hope Russo comes tonight. This is a very expensive operation, and we even had to borrow a few low-light cameras from the Feds in Albuquerque.”

“Where's Russo now?”

“My deputies said he's still at his house.”

“He'll come,” Sister Agatha said. “And RJ, is he okay?”

“He's staying at a private residence under the care of a court-appointed psychologist and a caseworker. As soon as we release his mother, they'll be reunited.”

“Have you already searched this house?” she asked.

“We looked but didn't find the baseball roster. We had to back off in case Russo decided to come here in a hurry. Don't worry—if there's anything in there, we'll find it later.”

Sister Agatha, Pax at her side, soon made herself comfortable in RJ's bedroom. The bump underneath the covers was nothing more than pillows.

No matter what other plans Al had made, she knew in her heart that he would stop by here tonight. He wouldn't leave town without his son.

She was busy praying the rosary an hour later when the phone at her waist vibrated. She answered in a whisper-soft voice and heard Marquez at the other end.

“Somebody came in the back door. There was a key we didn't know about under a brick in the patio.”

“Russo?”

“No, not unless he managed to elude my deputies,” Marquez whispered. “Stay put.”

She listened, trying to stand absolutely still and keep Pax calm. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure its crazy thumping could be heard miles away.

Finally she saw a spot of light, from a penlight, probably, farther down the hall. The light came closer, then vanished as a door somewhere close by opened noisily. Its sound was different, not like one of the bedroom doors. She heard a faint scrape from within the wall somewhere, then a metallic thunk.

“Yes!” she heard the person whisper loudly.

It was then she realized that RJ must have hidden the roster outside his room in the hall closet, and whoever that was had it now.

She inched toward the doorway, keeping a firm hand on the dog's collar, hoping to sneak a peek. Suddenly a hall light came on.

“Don't move!” Marquez ordered. “Set the gun down—very slowly.”

“We're coming out, Frank,” Sister Agatha called, not wanting to get shot by mistake. Pausing for a second, she stepped into the hall, Pax at heel. Seeing the scene before him, the dog stiffened and growled low and deep.

In the doorway of the bedroom across the hall, Frank kept his weapon trained on Mike's chest.

Mike Herrera looked over at her as he gently set a pistol down onto the carpet.

“This is unexpected,” Sister Agatha said, surprised.

“It isn't what you think, either,” Mike replied, standing slowly, then turning to put his hands on the wall and “assuming the position.”

“You've done this before,” Frank observed wryly. “You have any other weapons, Herrera?”

“A pocketknife. In my right front pocket. I can reach for it, if you want,” Mike replied. “What are you two doing here?”

“Sister, have the dog guard him, please?” Frank said, ignoring the question.

“Pax, guard!” she ordered, letting go of his collar.

Still growling, Pax walked over to within three feet of Herrera and sat, his mouth open to show his weaponry in full gleam.

Marquez quickly frisked Herrera, then handcuffed him. By then a deputy had appeared.

“I just wanted to retrieve the pistol I loaned Victoria a few months ago.” Mike turned his head toward Sister Agatha. “Okay, so I lied about getting rid of it, but she needed the protection.
When I heard she got arrested, I came to get it back before the deputies searched the house. If they found it here, they'd think for sure that she killed Robert, but she didn't.”

“Because you did?” Frank countered.

“No way, man—and you can't prove that, 'cause it never happened.”

“Get him out of here—use the back door,” Frank ordered the deputy. “We might have another visitor to deal with tonight.”

As the officer led Herrera away, Frank picked up the pistol by inserting a pen through the trigger guard, behind the trigger itself. He looked at the weapon closely, emptied the cartridges, checked the safety, then slipped it into an evidence bag.

Feeling the phone at his belt vibrate, he picked it up, said a few curt words, then looked over at her. “Russo's on his way here. I better turn off the lights again. Hurry and get back in place.”

“Do you think we've been wrong all along and Victoria was the one who killed Robert?” she asked from the bedroom doorway.

“Russo's still a wild card, but Victoria's our number one suspect right now. This isn't the murder weapon—but this gun proves she's been lying. She claims she never handled a pistol before, but her fingerprints on this will prove otherwise. What I can't figure out is why she'd keep this pistol around knowing it could help send her to prison.”

“Amateur killers make mistakes,” she suggested, unconvinced.

Sister Agatha brought Pax back into the bedroom, her mind in a whirl as she weighed the possibility that Mike and Victoria had conspired to kill Robert. A few seconds later, the lights went out and the house became silent once more.

Ten minutes went by; then the phone in her pocket started vibrating. She picked it up immediately.

“Frank here. Al Russo's almost at the gates. Stay awake and alert.”

“No problem. I have enough adrenaline in my system right now to keep me awake for years.”

She heard a chuckle from down the hall. Then it was quiet again, except for the sound of a breeze picking up outside.

Pax cocked his head and looked at her.

“Just the wind, boy,” she whispered, scratching him behind the ears. “Hang in there.”

Minutes later, she felt the phone vibrating again. There was a slight rush of air in the tightly sealed room as an outside door was opened, then closed. She put the phone up to her ear.

“Russo came in through the back door. He had his own key.”

“I'm ready,” Sister Agatha said.

“Stay on the line this time.”

Sister Agatha and Pax slipped into the corner just behind the half-opened door leading into the hall. Beside her was the life-sized cardboard cutout of the baseball player.

Marquez would monitor Al's location, but Sister Agatha was sure that things would be decided here in this bedroom. She heard distant footsteps, like before.

“Up the stairs,” Frank whispered.

“He's coming for his son—and that baseball roster,” she whispered back.

“If it's still there,” he answered.

“Don't worry, Al will find it for us,” she assured him. The footsteps were getting closer, so she froze, silent, and grabbed Pax's collar tightly.

Al came into the room a few seconds later. Without hesitation he went to the far right-hand corner of the room, directly opposite where she and Pax were standing, and moved the baseball mitt from the corner of the shelf. Behind it was a box. He
moved that as well, then reached upward. She heard him curse as he struggled to get at something by feel alone.