Inside was a woman’s corpse. Dressed in a tattered bridal gown, her throat circled with a ring of dried blood, her face a mask of horror, the woman was sprawled upon the tuning pins and strings. Blood had pooled beneath her. Coagulated on the silvery strings. A rosary glittered darkly in her plump fingers.

“God help us,” Father Frank, standing near the piano, said as he peered inside, then quickly made the sign of the cross and looked away.

Montoya’s gut twisted and his jaw clenched in frustration. He wanted to retch as he stared into the terrified and very dead face of Sister Louise Cortez.

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 51

Val eased down the darkened stairway. She’d propped the door open with one shoe so that Slade could catch up with her, then walked barefoot toward the light at the end of the stairs.

She’d heard Sister Charity approach as she’d waited near the basement stairs and had hidden in a small alcove that had once housed a water fountain. When the reverend mother had slipped through the door, she’d dashed across the hallway and caught the heavy door before it had latched.

Once the light to the stairs had been turned off, she’d slipped out of her shoes and into the stairwell.

She’d brought the gun, and feeling foolish, she’d taken it out of her purse and left the safety on. She was following a nun for God’s sake, the reverend mother, so the weapon seemed ridiculous, yet she kept it in her hand as she moved silently down the stairs, biting her lip to keep from crying out in case she stubbed a toe in the dark.

She didn’t want to chance discovery by turning on the lights over the steps; better to stay in the shadows, not alert the mother superior that she was being followed.

Why was Charity Varisco sneaking through the locked corridors of the orphanage during the auction? Shouldn’t she be upstairs, part of the festivities? Then again, Val remembered the note Camille had left: C U N 7734 R M C V. Val had come up with no other meaning than See you in hell, Charity Varisco. But that didn’t make any sense, was no explanation. The other note with the arrows surrounding the words Reverend Mother, as if she were a target.

Down she went. In the hallway that was lit, she waited, seeing no one, stepping into the light. Heart in her throat, skin crawling, bare feet stepping across the dusty cement, she moved forward slowly.

She heard a nasty little squeak and the scrape of tiny nails, then saw a rat’s beady eyes reflecting the light as he squatted in a corner. At the sight of her, the rat shot forward, diving into a hole, its scaly tail slithering after him.