Tom glanced at it and looked away again. "It's just…" The words stopped. His mouth was drawn tight and I couldn't read his eyes. He cleared his throat as I folded the card into a square packet and put it carefully into the pocket
of my slacks. "It's just Sadie's cross. Why… are you going to all that trouble?"
"Because it might not be Sadie's cross. And the owner might have left prints on it." Confronted with the cross and the boarding pass I had found in the kitchen, maybe Olivia would confess.
One hand steadying the IV, the chief attendant turned. "We're ready to roll. Are you two riding with us?"
Tom scrambled to his feet. "We'll follow in my car."
I shook my head. "You follow. I'm going to notify the sheriff's office. I'll stay until Walters gets here."
Tom opened the gate and stood back so I could step out of the stall. His jaw was tight. "You're making more out of this than it is, China. Accidents happen all the time in ranch country. Walters isn't going to drive out here just to look at the place where Sadie got kicked in the head by a horse."
I stayed firm. "This is a crime scene, and that's how I'm going to report it. Walters needs to get his butt out here and do a search. There may be other evidence that could identify Sadie's attacker."
We reached the ambulance just as one of the attendants was climbing into the rear with Sadie. As the other closed the doors, I heard a cell phone buzz. The attendant spoke into it, listened, then turned to Tom. "If the dispatcher got the name right when you called in, you must be Tom Rowan?"
"Yeah. I'm Rowan."
"That was the hospital calling. You need to come with us, sir. Your father's just been admitted."
Tom looked as if he had been struck by lightning. ' 'Dad? But how… why…?"
"Sorry, sir. I don't have any details. We'll be running the lights and the siren. Stay with us."
Impulsively, I reached out to Tom. "Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. Your father's a fine man. He-"
"Yeah, sure." He pushed me away.
The attendants were already in the ambulance, revving the motor. Tom sprinted for his car and was gone.
When I got through to Stu Walters, he answered with gruff irritation. Being wrong about Dwight had obviously earned me no brownie points.
"What is it this time?" he growled.
"I'm at the M Bar M. Sadie Marsh has been attacked."
That got his attention. "Attacked?" I heard the scrape of a chair being shoved back. "Who attacked her?"
"Hard to say. Tom Rowan and I found her a little while ago, in a horse stall in the barn. Head wounds, serious. Tom says her horse kicked her. I think she was bludgeoned. EMS is taking her to the hospital now. The crime scene needs to be secured. And it would be best to have a forensic physician examine the wound before it's cleaned up and-"
"This ain't Houston, lady," he said, with barely disguised sarcasm. "We ain't got no forensic-"
I cut in. "Then tell the doctor who treats her to inspect the wounds carefully, save samples of any debris he removes, and be prepared to testify in court to the nature of the instrument used in the attack."
He was heated. "Now just a goldurned minute here! Who do you think you are to-"
"Excuse me, Deputy Walters," I said crisply. "I don't have time to argue this matter. I've found evidence that suggests that one of the sisters at St. Theresa's may be involved. I'd like your permission to talk to her informally and see if I can determine the extent of her involvement."
When he spoke at last, Walters was incredulous. "You're sayin' that one of them nuns bashed Sadie Marsh over the-"
"That's what I intend to find out," I said. "Unless, of course, you want to handle the questioning yourself. In that event, I'll be glad to arrange it." I paused, giving him time to catch up. "I'll stay with you while you interrogate her.
Of course, Mother Winifred will also want to be there, so she can report your questions to the Reverend Mother General. And perhaps we should tape the interview, just in case the bishop has any concerns." I paused again. "Although, come to think of it, the bishop will probably want to send one of his lawyers."
"His lawyers?"
"Of course. You don't think the bishop will allow a nun to be questioned by the police without-''
He interrupted. "Sounds to me like this mighta been an accident. 'Round here, folks is alius gettin' kicked. An' don't forgit that you screwed up that Dwight bidness, and you was real positive 'bout him."
I shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, but I have physical evidence that a certain nun was here last night."
"Well, it's yer hide."
"You're saying that I have your permission to question the woman?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'. But hey, I don't want you thinkin' that you're-"
"I know." I sighed. "I'm not officially on the team, untrained and a woman and all that. If I got hurt, I might sue the county."
"Took the words right outta my mouth," he said.
When I got back to St. Theresa's it was almost noon and the board-what was left of it-had adjourned to the refectory for lunch. I took Mother Winifred out into the corridor and gave her Tom's version of what had happened to Sadie.
"Why, that's impossible!" she whispered, distraught. "Sadie trained Goliath herself. He'd never hurt her, or anyone else."
"I said it was Tom's theory," I reminded her. "When I examined the horse, I couldn't see any evidence that he had kicked her. And there's nothing about her wound that suggests an accident with the animal."
There was a silence. Mother's eyes were enormous with shock and bewilderment. "But if not the horse, then-" She shivered with a sudden chill. "Who did this awful thing, China?"
"I need to talk to Olivia, Mother."
Her hand went to her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. ' 'But you can't believe that she-"
"I think it's better if I don't try to explain it just now," I said gently. ' 'But I have two pieces of physical evidence that prove she was with Sadie last night. I would like you to be present when we talk. And I must tell you that I have Deputy Walters's permission to question her."
"To… question her? Olivia, of all people! She can't be involved in-She couldn't have-"
"I'm sorry, Mother Winifred. We need to talk to Olivia, and quickly. Where do you think we might locate her?"
Dominica was the one who finally found her, a half hour later, in the chapel. Olivia had apparently been there for several hours, for when she came out of the dim fight, her veil was askew, her habit was wrinkled, and she was blinking behind her gold-rimmed glasses. She seemed confused and disoriented. I had expected her to refuse to talk to me, or at least to put up some resistance. But the middle-aged nun who stood before me, head bowed, shoulders sagging, was nothing like the iron-willed administrator I had met my first day at St. T's. When I told her we needed to talk, she agreed submissively and almost, I thought, with relief.
A few moments later, Olivia, Mother Winifred, and I were in Mother's cottage with the door closed and the kettle heating on the hot plate. Olivia sat at the table, knees and feet together, hands tightly clasped in her lap. The skin under her eyes was pouchy, her nose red, her cheeks blotched. She had been crying.
I spoke quiedy. "There are a great many secrets at St. T's, Sister, and you seem to be at the heart of all of them. But we can't afford secrets any longer. There is too much at stake, too many people being hurt."
She didn't answer.
"On your way back from the airport last night, did you stop to see Sadie Marsh?"
A tic appeared at the corner of her compressed lips. She bowed her head, staring down at her locked hands, folded as if in prayer. Her knuckles were white.