Deftly, Harry typed in the Web site address, Brother Mark hanging over her shoulder. When the photo of the Blessed Virgin Mother, tears bloody on her cheeks, appeared, he gasped.
Harry scrolled up text and Brother Mark read quickly. Then the door opened and she clicked off the computer, stepping back so Brother Mark could step forward as though he was making a sale.
Brother Frank walked in, his face soured at the sight of Harry. "Here to meddle?"
"That's a Christian greeting," she shot back.
He considered this. "Well, what are you doing here?"
"Candles." Susan pointed to the bag into which Brother Mark was placing the cat candle and a fat beeswax candle.
"Are the cats and dog buying, too?" Brother Frank scowled.
"Mice." Brother Mark indicated the hole in the floor.
"Well, put rat poison in it!" Brother Frank commanded.
"I can't do that, Brother. It will kill the mice, but I can't get them out without tearing up the floor, and the shop will stink to high heaven."
"Get a cat," Mrs. Murphy suggested.
"Right," Pewter seconded the motion.
"You've always got an answer." Brother Frank fumed, then abruptly conceded, "You're right in this case."
Susan picked up her bag, smiled at Brother Mark. "Nice to see you."
As Harry, Susan, and the animals left the shop, Brother Frank peered through the window. "She's on a search-and-annoy mission. Ah, heading for the greenhouse. Stopped. Talking to Susan. Going behind the greenhouse. Now, why would she do that?"
Brother Mark shrugged. "I don't know."
"Nothing back there but the pumphouse." Brother Frank turned from the window. "I came in here for a reason and I forgot it. Damn that Harry. She made me forget it." He peered out the window again. "There goes Brother Handle. He's going behind the greenhouse, too. Oh, he won't be happy when he finds Harry and Susan." Brother Frank chuckled. "He won't be happy at all. All right, then, I'm going. If I remember why I came here in the first place, I'll tell you."
"Good-bye, Brother." Brother Mark's eyes squinted as the treasurer closed the door with a thud.
Because of the runoff from the greenhouse and garden cottage, the ice crust was thicker behind those buildings. The cats and dog dug in, but Harry and Susan looked like skiers without skis.
Harry hit the side of the stone pumphouse with a thud. She noticed the shoveled-out railroad-tie steps at the rear leading up to the path. "Dammit."
Susan noticed it at the same time and laughed. "Be easier getting out than getting in. Think a monk can use a computer in the middle of the night and get away with it?"
"Yes. What I need to find out is if that information is fed back into Brother Handle's computer. Every time you log on, it's recorded in the computer, right?"
"Right."
"It seems to me, if all the computers are tied in, it wouldn't be that hard to keep track of who is watching what. But even without that, each of these computers will have that stored inside. A whiz will know how to get the traffic pattern out of the motherboard."
"Right." Susan pushed open the door with Harry's help.
The animals dashed in.
"Flip on a light," Susan said, smelling the kerosene.
Harry hit the switch. "Wow, this baby is powerful."
"Why isn't she worried about someone seeing the light?" Pewter wondered.
"At this point she doesn't care if she's yelled at or not. If someone was looking out of the garden cottage or the greenhouse, they'd have seen us all come in here."
Harry and Susan inspected the pump.
"Wish I had a flashlight." Susan could see that a bright focused light would help.
"We can see well enough." Harry squeezed behind the pump. She dropped down on her hands and knees, and Tucker came up, sticking her wet nose in her mother's face. "Tucker, don't."
"You look silly on all fours," the dog rejoined.
"Susan, here it is." Harry found the thin painted copper pipe. "This has to be it."
"Could run to one of the fountains."
"Yeah, it could, but look how new the copper is. See the scratch here? If it had been in service for a while, the copper would be green." She noticed the smallish box, painted black, underneath the copper tube, feeding into it. She fished out her trapper knife, wedging it under a flat cap. "Damn."
"Frozen?"
"It's above freezing in here. If it weren't it'd be Niagara." She pointed to the kerosene heater in the corner. "Does the job." She returned to the small box. "I guess someone has the job of lighting that. Damn, I can't pop this."
"What are you looking for?"
"I think this has liquid or powder in it. Red."
Susan said nothing, then stiffened and whirled around. Harry was still on her hands and knees.
"Intruder!" Tucker warned as Harry backed out.
Brother Handle opened the door and closed it behind him. "Just what are you doing?"
"Figuring out the miracle." Harry's voice was low, angry. "You knew, didn't you?"
Before he could answer, Susan, her voice trembling slightly, said, "Did you kill Thomas?"
Harry jumped in. "Are you going to kill us?"
The door opened with great force, sending Brother Handle sprawling on the floor.
"He won't kill you, but I will." Brother Mark, knife in hand, leapt for Harry, pinning her so she couldn't reach for her gun.
Tucker sank her fangs into his ankle.
"Climb up the robe," Mrs. Murphy ordered.
The two cats easily climbed up, ripping the heavy wool as they progressed. They reached his shoulders as he kept Harry pinned but tried to shake them off.
Susan leapt onto Brother Mark, as well, grabbing his neck on the right side. The thin, razor-sharp knife was in his left hand. He couldn't reach Susan with it without releasing his hold on Harry.
Brother Handle, on his feet now, lurched toward the melee.
Tucker let go of Brother Mark's ankle, whirling to meet this new threat. To her surprise, the Prior quickly pulled the rope tie from his robe, flipping it over Brother Mark's neck while putting his knee in the young man's back. Susan dropped away.
Choking, Brother Mark released his grasp of Harry, but with his left hand he swung back, stabbing the Prior in the side.
The older man grunted in pain, slightly loosening the rope.
Brother Mark, almost free, swung the knife toward Harry, but she pulled the .38 from her pocket.
"Stay still."
"You wouldn't," he sneered as Brother Handle held his side but didn't let go of the loosening rope.
"I will."
Brother Mark slashed out at Harry. She ducked in the close quarters, firing into his abdomen. He screamed and dropped down on one knee as the cats leapt off his shoulders. "Oh, God," he moaned.
"He's not listening," Susan spat. "You killed my uncle! Kill him, Harry. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."
"No." Harry steadily held the gun, elbows straight. "Call Rick."
Susan yanked out her tiny cell phone, flipping it open.
"How'd you figure it out?" Brother Mark moaned.
Harry ignored him. "Brother Handle, how bad is it?"
His hand, covered with blood, stayed pressed to his side. "I'll live."
The pain increased for Brother Mark. On first getting hit with a bullet it's a hard thud. As minutes go by the pain intensifies, turning into agony. A wound to the stomach is never good. He curled up in the fetal position.
Susan supported Brother Handle, who was rocking on his feet as she'd gotten off the phone. "Lean on me. Try to relax. I know it's difficult, but the calmer you can be, the deeper your breathing, the better. Honest."
He sagged against her. "God forgive me. I was wrong. I waited one day too long."
Harry never took her eyes or the gun off Brother Mark. "You did what you thought was best, Brother Handle."
"I put the order first." His body was shaking and he was sweating.
"Let's sit down. Can you sit down without a great deal of pain?" Susan gently moved him toward the thick stone wall, slowly doing a deep knee bend against it. His eyes fluttered. She looking imploringly at Harry.