"Part of it."
She looked disappointed. "Too bad. If you had the rest of it-"
"That's okay, Ruby," I said, wrapping the cartridge in a bit of tissue. "This is all I need."
"Oh," she said. "Then I guess you don't want this."
"What is it? What have you found?"
She shone her torch on an empty Camel cigarette pack. Now I knew where I'd seen that gun.
I was at Mother Winifred's door before the bell rang for breakfast.
"Good morning, China," Mother said. She was wearing a rumpled green robe and she looked tired, as if she hadn't rested well. "I've just put the kettle on. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"What I'd like," I said without preamble, "is your permission to search Dwight Baldwin's living quarters." I had already made a circuit of the parking lot behind Sophia and confirmed my suspicions.
She stared at me. "You suspect Dwight of setting the fires?"
"I don't know about the fires," I said. "But I think he was the person who took a shot at me yesterday afternoon."
Her pale blue eyes widened. "Shot at you! But why?"
"To warn me off," I said. "I know it's Sunday, Mother. But I'd like you to invent a task that will occupy him for an hour or so this morning, so I can search. And I'd like a key to his quarters, if you have one."
She nodded sadly. ' 'You can conduct your search during Mass. Dwight is one of our little flock." She went to the cupboard and took down a large ring of keys. ' 'I'm sure there's a key here somewhere."
In Texas, the law doesn't permit the landlord to enter rented or leased premises, even with a key. But Mother Winifred probably wasn't current on the law, and I certainly wasn't going to sweat it. Legal or not, opening a door with a key beats breaking and entering.
Breakfast was a repeat of supper, with the refectory once again divided down the middle, neither side talking to the other. Both sides seemed more tense and fidgety than they had last night. I wondered whether they were upset by Sister Perpetua's death or by Mother Winifred's request, or whether they were counting heads. If they hadn't heard that Maggie was returning, they'd be expecting that an election would be held in the next day or two.
When I had finished assembling my breakfast tray, I looked around for Maggie but didn't see her. Ruby wasn't there either, of course. She had already left for Albuquerque.
After we'd climbed down the cliff the night before, we had all walked to my cottage, where we sat down to talk for a little while. "I'd love to stay and help you figure out what's going on here," Ruby had said regretfully. "But my friends have made all sorts of plans. I really can't disappoint them."
"That's okay," I said. "You're still picking us up for the drive home, aren't you?"
"In two weeks." She'd glanced at Maggie. "Are you going back with us, Maggie?" It was the first reference either of us had made, since supper, to Maggie's momentous decision.
"I've got to go back," Maggie said. "I have to get ready to put the restaurant up for sale, make arrangements, that sort of thing. It'll be a while before I can come back to
stay. In the meanwhile, though, I'm considered a member of the order."
I regarded Maggie thoughtfully. "I suppose I'd understand it better if the restaurant were a flop. But feeling the way you do about the Church, I'm not sure why you want to come back-especially when things here are so unsettled."
Maggie looked down at her hands resting quietly in her lap. "It's true-there's a lot of uncertainty here. And I'm not any more comfortable with the Church than I was when I left."
I shook my head. "Then why-?"
"Because it's where I'm meant to be," Maggie said simply. "Haven't you ever felt that your place in life is the right place?"
I thought about that for a moment. No, I had never been sure that my place was the right place-not when I was practicing law, not after I'd bought the shop, not even after I'd moved in with McQuaid. Where I was now felt pretty good, sometimes more, sometimes less, but I wasn't absolutely sure it was right. I wondered fleetingly what it would be like to experience that kind of assurance.
"Excuse me." Ruby stirred. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, Maggie. But what about Dominica? Does she have anything to do with this?"
Maggie didn't seem offended. "Maybe. I've certainly missed her. But I don't expect anything to be different between us. I'm just sort of doing this a step at a time. Taking it on faith. And loving the questions."
I was surprised into the recollection of a piece of poetry I had read once. "Love the questions like locked doors," I said softly. "Like books in a very foreign tongue." Rilke was the poet, I thought.
"Love the questions?" Ruby shook her head. "Excuse me, but I prefer answers."
"In the short run, maybe." Maggie smiled. "But questions take us farther and deeper. I was called here to St.
T's to learn something. Whatever it is, I need to come back and get on with the job."
"But don't you need to know what job it is that you're supposed to get on with?" Ruby asked doubtfully.
Maggie's laugh was rich and joyful. "There is such a thing as faith, you know. Come on, you guys. Love the questions!"
The logic of Maggie's decision continued to escape me, but 1 felt close to her in a new way. And when she and Ruby left, we all hugged one another for a long time, Ruby and I in our doubt, Maggie in her faith.
I found a spot at a table in a corner of the refectory. If one of the sisters had information for me, I was hoping she'd come and sit down. But perhaps it had been too public an invitation, I decided as I finished my breakfast alone. The only person who spoke to me was Sister Gabriella, who had traded her jeans for a tailored skirt and sweater. She stopped as I was putting my plate on the stack of dirty dishes on the pass-through shelf to the kitchen.
"How about dropping by Jacob after Mass?" she asked. "I'd like to give you a tour of our garlic operation." A nun in a habit paused to scan a nearby bulletin board and Gabriella bent toward me, lowering her voice so the other woman couldn't hear. "Sadie Marsh, one of the Laney Foundation Board members, will be here this morning. She wants to talk to you."
"Oh, yes," I said, remembering. "Tom Rowan mentioned her. She raises horses, doesn't she?"
"That's right." Gabriella raised one quizzical eyebrow. "You've met Tom?"
I felt myself coloring. ' 'We knew one another years ago. He said that the board is meeting here this week."
"Tuesday morning. But Sadie doesn't want to wait until then." She raised her voice again. "Does eleven sound all right? We can take a tour of the garlic field, if the weather is still cooperating."
"Fine," I said, and turned to go. "See you then."
I was halfway down the hall when I was stopped by a slight, anxious nun in a modified habit and veil that hid her hair. She wore plastic-rimmed fifties-style glasses, and she was so tense that I could almost feel her quivering. She looked over her shoulder in both directions before she pulled me into the laundry room.
"I'm Sister John Roberta." The words escaped from her in whispery gasps. "If I tell you what I know, will you help me get away?"
I was startled. "Get away? Why?" What did she know that would make her so fearful?
She clutched at my arm. "I'm afraid I'll die here! Please, help me!"
"I'll do my best," I said reassuringly. "What are you afraid of?"
Her mouth trembled. "Sister Olivia says we have to stick together." She broke into a flurry of dry coughing. "And Sister Rowena says if I tell, I'm being disloyal. They might-"