Waiting, she ignored the sensation that she was being observed by hidden eyes.

No one answered.

“Oh, come on,” she said under her breath, and gave the buzzer a long, hard poke. “Hey! Is anyone there?” she called.

Waiting, she felt a slight breeze as it rustled through the alley behind her, a cool breath against the back of her neck. She twisted her neck to glance behind her, certain she would find someone staring at her from the other side of the narrow backstreet.

No one.

Not even a cat slinking through the garbage bins that lined the buildings. She was completely alone, the sounds of the city distant. Squinting upward to the steep gables and turrets of the old compound, she saw no one lurking in the umbra, no hidden set of eyes following her every move. The gravel path wedged between the buildings on the other side of the gate was empty.

And yet . . .

Her skin crawled.

The shifting shadows from a breeze sliding through the trees caused the dappling on the ground to move, as if a ghost had passed quickly by.

Goose bumps rose on her flesh, though the temperature outside was over eighty. “Come on, come on,” she said, and jabbed the button for the third time.

Within a minute, a slim African American woman in a nun’s habit hurried toward the gate. Valerie watched her through the black bars.

“Can I help you?” the nun asked. Tall and regal-looking, a patient smile pinned to her lips, she peered through the wrought-iron bars. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I’m Sister Zita.”

Zita. The name rang a bell. Hadn’t Cammie said she and Zita worked together, along with another nun, Sister Louise, at St. Elsinore’s parish?

“I’d like to speak with Father O’Toole, and the main entrance to the cathedral is locked,” Val said, offering up a little explanation, then added, “I’m Valerie Renard, Camille’s sister.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, but didn’t move to open the gate. A glint of suspicion was evident in her dark eyes as she glanced behind Val, as if she thought there might be someone with her. “I’m not supposed to allow anyone inside. We’re in mourning and—”