Page 12 of Stranger Gifts

“I can’t blame her if she’s terrified,” said Trak. “I don’t want to push or cause fear in a nun.”

A little while later, they pulled into the parking lot of a small row of apartments with six on the bottom floor and six on the top. They weren’t luxury by any means, but they appeared clean and well-maintained.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Trak turned his head, lifting his chin as if he were sniffing the air. Knowing him, he probably was. Angel looked at him and nodded.

“You go in,” he said. “I want to check something out.”

Angel knew exactly what he would be checking out. He could see the old motorcycle parked beside the gas station across the street but didn’t see the owner. He would lay odds that a member of the Flaming Skulls was nearby.

Irene gently knocked on the door and Angel stayed back a few steps, trying not look intimidating. Usually women thought his face was beautiful, even with the long scar. But this woman had been traumatized so there was no telling how she could react.

“May I help you?” she whispered opening the door just a crack, the chain still holding it in place. Angel knew that if someone wanted in, that chain wouldn’t hold them back.

“Sister Agatha, I’m Irene Robicheaux and this is my son, Angel.”

“Oh, yes. Father Hebert said you wanted to speak with me. One moment.” She closed the door and they could hear her letting the chain off and then the door re-opened. “Please come in.”

The room was simple with a small sofa and one side chair. There was a gently used coffee table with a bible and several other books on it. A small television was on the wall and in the open space they could see a small kitchenette. There was a hallway that they assumed led to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Please have a seat. May I get you a coffee, water, or tea?” she asked.

“Nothing for me, ma’am,” said Angel taking a seat to lower himself to her eye level.

“I’m fine, child,” said Irene reaching to pat her hand.

Sister Agatha pulled back so quickly Angel’s heart nearly stopped. Her face flushed and her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No. No, it’s my fault,” said Irene. “I should have known touch might be difficult for you.”

“It’s a nightmare,” she said shaking her head. “I was teaching at the school affiliated with the convent and even the children hugging me sent me into a tailspin. My life is over as I knew it. I thought this was my calling. I thought God needed me for something special.”

“He did, Sister Agatha,” said Angel.

“It’s not Sister Agatha any longer,” she said shaking her head. “I’ve given up my habit. My name is Jenna. Jenna Brooks.”

“Alright, Jenna. How are you doing?” asked Angel.

“Terrible,” she said shaking her head and wiping the tears. “I’ve been sitting in this apartment for six months waiting for this case to go to trial while that horrible man is behind bars. There’s a member of his gang always watching me to be sure I don’t speak to anymore police or any lawyers beyond the terrible one that was appointed for me. I was supposed to have a meeting yesterday with a man from the FBI and he called and cancelled. Said that he was busy.”

“The FBI said they were too busy?” frowned Angel. She nodded and Angel heard the comment in his ear.

“Checking on it now,” said Ace.

There was a soft knock on the door and Angel stood, gripping the weapon at his waist. She gasped but Irene turned to her and smiled.

“It’s alright. One of my other sons is outside. He was checking on something,” she said.

Sure enough, Angel opened the door and Trak walked in with a small smile for the frightened woman.

“This is my other son, Trak,” she said proudly.

“You have a lot of sons?” asked Jenna.

“Dozens,” smiled Irene. “Some are blood, some not. But they’re all my boys.”

“I’m sorry I reacted that way. I thought you were that biker across the street.”

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