Free False Witness by Aimée and David Thurlo

me, what makes you think that your niece is in this area, and what’s her name?”
    “Her maiden name was Angela—Angie Sanchez. She’s my late sister’s daughter. She was fresh out of high school when her mother and father died in an auto accident on Highway 528. Angie’s the only family I have now. Several months ago, after giving up on private investigators, I put out feelers through my business associates and one of them—a local Realtor—told me she’d seen Angie at the Cottonwood Mall, the shopping center on Albuquerque’s northwest side. You’ve probably heard of it.”
    Sister Agatha nodded. “Go on.”
    “She saw Angie through the store window as she passed by and they made eye contact. My associate paid for her purchases and hurried out of the store, intending on catching up to her but, by then, my niece was nowhere in sight. It happened so fast she was sure she’d spooked Angie somehow.”
    “What kind of work does Angie do?”
    “She has a degree in business and has worked in real estate. What she’s doing now …,” he shrugged.
    “I could use a photo if you have one,” Sister Agatha said.
    He motioned toward an envelope on the nightstand next to him and she reached for it. Inside the inn’s stationery was a small snapshot. “That’s a copy I made from the original. It’s five years old.”
    Sister Agatha looked at the grainy image, cropped and enlargedfrom an apparent group photo. The face looked vaguely familiar. Maybe she had seen Angie in the Bernalillo area. The knowledge made Mr. Gutierrez’s offer even more tempting.
    “What have you done to try and find her?”
    “According to my investigators, every phone book and journal in four states has been checked, including all the databases online that we can access. If Angie’s married and has a new name now … well, it’s not possible to check out every Angela in the country, is it? But this new lead is the best I have. It makes sense that she’d return to Bernalillo. Angie lived in the area for many years and she has some very happy childhood memories of this place.”
    “What were her interests and hobbies?”
    “She loved country-western dancing and used to frequent some of the local nightclubs. And, as far as hobbies, she always liked hiking in the bosque.” A faraway look came over him as he continued. “I still remember the first hike Angie went on with her father and me. We’d decided to spend the night in the Manzanos, south of Capilla Peak. I used to love that area, and at that time I was still working as a hunting guide. Halfway down the trail to our planned campsite, Angie realized that her favorite stuffed animal was missing from her backpack—a raggedy, pitiful-looking white rabbit. We offered to buy her a new one when we returned to town—then a dozen new ones—but she wasn’t having any of it. Her dad and I ended up walking almost the entire distance down the mountain trail to where we’d parked the car, searching for that thing,” he said then began to cough. After taking a sip of water, he continued. “By the time we found it, it looked chewed up, like a wild animal had played with it, but it didn’t make any difference to her.”
    He paused until his breathing evened again. “Memorieslike those are what I hold most dear right now—and if there is an afterlife, that’s what I’m taking with me. Family matters to me, Sister, though it took me a long time to realize that.”
    Sister Agatha returned the photo to the envelope and placed it back on the nightstand. “If Reverend Mother says I can take the job, I’ll be back for the photo and that check. But I don’t feel right taking either until she gives me permission.”
    “That’s fine,” he said, then went into a long coughing spasm that left him shaky and breathless.
    She walked to the pitcher and refilled his water glass without being asked. “Are you all right?” she asked, as he took it from her hand.
    He nodded. “It’s uncomfortable,