She hurried in front of a horse-mounted police officer and followed a crowd across the busy intersection. Almost too quickly she found M's Pub. Sister Kate had already secured a table on the patio. She stood and waved as soon as Maggie saw her.
"Would you rather we eat inside?" she asked, still standing and ready to move if Maggie requested it.
"No, the breeze feels wonderful. This is perfect."
Maggie thought Sister Kate looked even less like a nun this evening, dressed in linen shorts, a black knit blouse and sandals. As they sat Sister Kate brushed at her black blouse, looking a bit embarrassed.
"My roommate's dog," she explained. "I love him but he ends up shedding all over me."
"Your roommate or the dog?" As soon as Maggie said it she wished she hadn't. She'd been spending too much time with male police detectives and FBI agents, but much to her surprise and relief Sister Kate burst out laughing. Maggie joined her.
They both ordered a glass of wine and Sister Kate insisted they have the scallops sauteed in garlic and capped with mozzarella cheese for an appetizer.
"If you don't mind my asking, is your roommate a nun, too?"
"Yes. Actually I have two roommates, both nuns. We share a house in the Dundee area. It's the neighborhood just a few blocks east of Our Lady of Sorrow."
"Where do your roommates teach?"
"I'm the only teacher," she said, smiling at Maggie's surprise. "We are allowed to do other things, have other careers, as long as they benefit and promote the order's mission." She paused as the waitress brought their wine. "Sister Loretta manages several low-income apartment complexes that our religious order owns. We call her our resident slumlord."
Maggie laughed again, relieved to feel some of the tension of the afternoon slipping away.
"And your other roommate?" Maggie asked.
"Ah, Sister Danielle creates computer programs."
"Really?"
"She's done a variety for hospital medical records departments and secure data systems for women's centers using all that complicated encrypted stuff. She's certainly taught me a lot, and she also finds incredible rates for me on airline flights. I have a presentation in Chicago this weekend and she's found a round-trip ticket for under a hundred dollars."
"Well, you've definitely given me a whole new perception about nuns."
"I imagine the same goes for FBI agents."
"Excuse me?"
"You're definitely not what I imagined an FBI agent to be like."
Maggie raised her wineglass. "Touché."
"I suppose this case has given you a whole new perception of priests as well?"
Maggie looked across the table at her, studying her in the fading sunlight. Her warm brown eyes were serious now where they had been playful just seconds before.
"It seems this priest scandal has touched every part of the country " Maggie said, trying to keep from going into her earlier tirade. "Why do you suppose it got so out of hand?"
Sister Kate sipped her wine. "I used to joke that if women were allowed to be priests it would have never have happened, at least not to the degree that it has. But at the same time I do believe some things should be taken care of from within. These priests haven't just broken man's laws, they've broken God's laws and should be held to an even higher standard. Unfortunately, in the name of protecting the church some bishops and cardinals completely forgot about protecting the children." She paused as though thinking about something or someone and then added, "The good news is that there are many more good priests than there are bad."
Maggie wondered if she was thinking of Father Tony Gallagher. Did she consider him one of the good guys? And if he was involved, if he was helping teenagers carry on some game of execution __ a game of good versus evil or perhaps more appropriately evil versus a necessary evil __ would Sister Kate suspect it? Would she go so far as to perhaps even protect Father Tony if he was The Sin Eater?
"Justice can certainly be elusive sometimes," Maggie said, looking for clues in the nun's eyes and seeing instead only concern.
"I'm sure you grapple with that constantly," Sister Kate said, and suddenly Maggie realized that she was being studied, too. "How do you deal with it? You seem to have a solid moral core that I'm guessing doesn't always coincide with the FBI's moral code of justice."
Yes, and today had been the perfect example, she wanted to say. Making a deal with Keller, who murdered children, in order to catch a killer, who avenged children, certainly seemed to be one of those instances.
"That's very true," Maggie admitted. "There are times when I have to do things I don't agree with. As I suppose you do, too?"
Sister Kate's smile disappeared and Maggie thought she could see a sadness in her eyes. "Yes. And there are times when it's necessary to break a rule or two."
"Perhaps bend, not break," Maggie clarified and managed to get Sister Kate to smile again.
"My grandfather used to say that sometimes the end justified the means. At the time I never understood what he meant."
"Your grandfather in Michigan? The one who instilled your love of all things medieval, including knights in shining armor coming to the rescue?"
"You have a very good memory," Sister Kate said. "He taught me so many wonderful things about justice, about life. He was one of a kind."
"You were lucky to have him."
"And what about you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Were you lucky enough to have anyone to come to your rescue?"
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Maggie said.
"Maybe it's a gift. Or a curse." Sister Kate shrugged as her eyes wandered away to watch the summer tourists strolling across the street. "I can sense those of us who have suffered some sort of abuse as children. There's always a tough outer shell, but for some reason I can see beyond that."
She turned back to Maggie and met her eyes. "You were abused as a child, weren't you?"
CHAPTER 82
The Embassy Suites
Omaha, Nebraska
Nick walked past the door to Maggie's suite and found himself hesitating. Ever since last night he wanted to knock. He dared himself to knock, coming close a couple of times. His hands were filled this time with junk food he had loaded up on from the hotel-lobby gift shop. So he had an excuse. "Coward," he muttered to himself then remembered for the third or fourth time how ridiculous he was being. He hated that Maggie O'Dell still managed to push his buttons. After all this time he was so certain he was over her, that the only remaining feeling was anger. And he was still angry. But everything seemed to melt away when he looked into those dark brown eyes, everything including his knees. He was embarrassed to admit it, but no woman had ever knocked him so out of whack as Maggie O'Dell. And he hated that she seemed to be able to do that even without trying.
He knocked, instead, on the door to his own suite with his elbow since he had no free hand to knock, let alone dig out his key card.
Gibson opened the door so quickly it startled Nick, and he juggled the bags of chips and candy bars before everything became an avalanche.
"Here, let me get some of that," Gibson said, reaching out to help.
As soon as he had a free hand, Nick punched the volume down a couple notches as he passed by the TV. The room-service menu was still on the bed. All the pillows had been pulled out from under the covers and were stacked for TV-viewing comfort.
"They've got a couple of cool movies on later," Gibson said, unpacking the stash and lining it up neatly on the desk.
"Where's Timmy?" Nick asked, glancing around and noticing that the bathroom door was open.