Once again, she struggled to sit up, but now it was a hand planted firmly on her shoulder that kept her where she was.
Take it easy, missuh, Sister. Were gonna get you some help, okay? The voice spoke with unmistakable authority. It was deep and scratchy, and matched the weathered and rough-hewn face perfectly. There were traces of an accent, too. Southern, she thought.
The face came closer, bending over her, and fingers touched her face with unexpected gentleness. Can you tell me who did this to you? And the voice was at the same time softer and more dangerous. Are you hurt, uh, anywhere else?
The face came closer, bending over her, and fingers touched her face with unexpected gentleness. Can you tell me who did this to you? And the voice was at the same time softer and more dangerous. Are you hurt, uh, anywhere else?
Two things occurred to Rachel then. One, that she was wearing a nuns habit, which explained her Good Samaritans reticence-even embarrassment-regarding her person. And two, hed obviously noticed the bruises on her face.
And following close on the heels of those two realizations came a third: She was probably due for another contraction. Any second.
How was she going to explain that?
She pushed at the hand holding her down and managed to prop herself on one elbow. Im not hurt, she said, trying not to hold her breath or clench her teeth. Trying to breathe. Normally. Trying not to give away the fact that she hurt everywhere. I was just-I got a little tired, and thirsty and I thought Id rest a few minutes in the shade. I guess I must have dozed off. Im okay-really.
The truth was, shed gotten scared when shed noticed several cars slowing down as they passed on the highway. That was when shed hidden behind the grove of spiky Joshua trees. And thered been a couple of contractions-bad ones-and after that, shed curled up on her side to restjust for a minute. She couldnt have been asleep for very long.
The man put his hand under her elbow and helped her to sit up, while at the same time he unhooked a canteen from his belt. He had a lot of other things attached to his belt, she observed as he unscrewed the lid to the canteen and offered it to her. One of which was a gun. And there was a metal star pinned to his shirt. Which she supposed explained a lot of things. And did not reassure her.
Now that he seemed satisfied her circumstances werent dire, his eyes regarded her more with suspicion than compassion. They narrowed again as he watched her drink. You want to tell me what youre doing out here in the middle of the desert? Alone? His voice was a typical lawmans voice: hard and without much expression. And how you came to have those bruises on your face?
Bruises? The innocent and slightly puzzled frown came easily to her; distrust of law enforcement was automatic now. Awareness of that fact drifted like cloud shadows through her consciousness, along with a sense of sadness and guilt. Im sorry, Grandmother. I know you didnt raise me to be like this.
But the shadows werent dark enough to stop reflexive responses of caution and cover. Oh, she said, feigning sudden enlightenment as she wiped water from her lips with the back of her hand. She touched one still-tender cheekbone. I guess that must have happened when I
When you her Good Samaritan prompted when she paused.
Rachel closed her eyes and exhaled. I feel so stupid. You see, I swerved to miss a-I guess it must have been a coyote-well, Id never seen one, and I was distracted, and the next thing I knew, I was careening across the desert, and, um, I wound up in a ditch. Thank God for air bags! She crossed herself and cast her gaze prayerfully skyward-a rather nice touch, she thought, considering what she was wearing.
I wonder if he bought it.
In his long and not always illustrious career as a homicide detective with the San Bernardino County Sheriffs Department, J. J. Fox had been lied to many times. Although never before, he was fairly certain, by a nun. He knew what bruises left by human fists looked like. Plus, now that hed had a chance to examine these more closely, he was pretty sure they were at least a couple of days old.
But who in the hell would beat up a nun?
When did this happen? Thisaccident?
A frown etched delicate pleats between her eyes. Dark eyes, almost black, so dark he could see himself reflected in them. Eyes fringed with thick black lashes, and with a slightly Asian cast, he noted. Probably mixed blood, and if hed had to guess, given her size, hed have said maybe Cambodian or Vietnamese.
This morningI guess it must be afternoon now, right? Ive kind of lost track of time
J.J. fingered the radio mic on his shoulder. Well get someone out here to take care of your car, maam-uh, Sister. Can you tell me whereabouts this happened?
Again the frown. And this time she nibbled delicately on her lower lip. A very soft and full lower lip, he noted, and immediately felt ashamed of himself. The woman was a nun, for Gods sake. No disrespect intended.
Oh-I dont know! I think it wasback that way-no, waitIm so confused. Ive been wandering aroundmaybe Ive been going in circles, do you think so? Her gaze lifted to his with helpless appeal.
Which might have had more effect on him if he hadnt seen something else in her eyes, something hed seen all too often, in his line of work, in the eyes of suspects and witnesses alike: a mixture of calculation and fear. This woman really did not trust him. And plainly, she did not want him to find her car. He wondered why.
It didnt bother him too much that she wouldnt give him the location of her vehicle; there had to be evidence of where shed left the road, which should make it easy enough to locate. But no doubt about it, something about this woman and her situation was off-way off. Here was a nun, fairly young-judging from her flawless and unlined skin-of Eurasian ancestry and tiny in stature, out in the middle of the desert, miles from any outposts of civilization, on foot and sporting bruises that had almost certainly come from a beating. Small wonder his cop-radar was pinging like crazy.
He stood up and pivoted away from the woman while he got Katie on his radio and instructed her to send a tow truck out south on Death Valley Road. Tell Bucky hell have to hunt for the tire tracks-dont have the exact location, but Im guessing its gonna be south of my location a couple miles, at least.
Got it, Katie said. And after a pause: Sois she?
Is she what? Although he knew.
A nun?
Remains to be seen, J.J. said, and signed off.
When he turned back to the woman, she was on her hands and knees trying to get up and not being graceful about it. Evidently the lady had gotten herself tangled up in her habit, which seemed to him a little strange. Hed have thought someone used to wearing one of those things would have figured out how to manage it by now. Mentally rolling his eyes, he bent down and got a hand under her elbow and hoisted her to her feet.
No sooner had he done that, than she gave out with a groan, uttered a very un-nunlike word and folded right back up again, while hanging on to his arm with the desperation grip of someone in immediate danger of drowning.
Damn woman might have mentioned she was hurt! Swearing both aloud and mentally, J.J. scooped her up in his arms and hollered for Moonshine, who was panting in the Joshua trees shade a little way off. He set out with long strides across the sand, and about halfway to his car it occurred to him that, for a little bitty thing, this woman was a whole lot heavier than she looked. Then he looked down at what he was carrying.
What the hell?
What he saw gave him one of the biggest shocks of his life, which was probably why he burst out with the question before he thought how ridiculous it was going to sound. Sister, are you pregnant?
She didnt even open her eyes. Just went on sort of panting and groaning at the same time, and she had one hand on the huge belly now plainly visible beneath the draping of the habit.
Just holding her against him, he could feel how stiff and seized up she was.
Great. Just great. Not only pregnant, but in labor.
He kept walking, making for his vehicle, until he felt the woman in his arms relax and start breathing somewhat normally again. Then, without slowing his steps, he gritted his teeth and said, Please tell me youre not really a nun.
She opened one eye and glared up at him. Is that relevant?
Relevant? He snorted and walked while he considered that. Probably it wasnt, in her present circumstances. He tried to think whether it bothered him, the thought of a nun being pregnant, and decided against all reason that it did. He couldnt have said why; he wasnt even Catholic, having been raised more or less Baptist, growing up, like most everybody else hed known back then. But some things were just, wellsacred.
How far apart are your contractions? He thought he said it pretty calmly, considering.
I dont know, I dont have a watch. But Ive been counting. I thinkabout two or three minutes.
J.J. wasnt a doctor, and it had been a long time since those first aid and emergency childbirth classes way back in his training days, but he was pretty sure that wasnt good news. This just keeps getting better and better, J.J. thought. He didnt say anything, though, because theyd arrived back at his patrol vehicle, where Moonshine was waiting impatiently for him to open the door, doing a little dance as she tried to keep her feet off the hot sand.
Youre riding shotgun, he said to the dog, and then, without much sympathy, to his burden, You gonna be okay if I set you down?
Im fine, she said. But he noticed she was looking paler than she ought to, considering the heat and the sheen of sweat he could see on her forehead and the bridge of her nose.
Okay, then, easy does it And he wondered why he couldnt seem to make his voice sound nicer. At least gentler. Sure, he didnt like being lied to, and he wasnt used to being distrusted, at least not by supposedly innocent law-abiding citizens. But this probably wasnt any of her fault; he doubted any woman in her condition would be out here in the middle of the desert by choice. And there were those bruises.