Louise caught a look from the mother superior. “I’m sorry. I must’ve been mistaken. I thought she was searching for her roots since she’d been adopted out of St. Elsinore’s.” Louise was stepping backward, toward the convent. “I was wrong.”

Val watched as they hurried through an open archway leading to the tall building on the opposite side of the garden from the cathedral, probably the nun’s quarters. As she reached the shadows, Sister Maura glanced back over her shoulder but didn’t break stride; then she disappeared behind her larger companion.

Suddenly Val wondered if she’d known her sister at all. There were so many contradictions, so many things she didn’t know or understand about her sister, who had never, as far as Val could remember, really enjoyed children. And yet she’d worked with them at an orphanage and gotten pregnant herself. And they knew who their natural parents were. There was no mystery there.

“What’s going on here?” she said, turning to the reverend mother.

“Nothing, I assure you.” Again the fragile grin. “Camille was just a very, very confused young woman.”

Something was wrong here. The bells tolled loudly, ringing through the garden, and the nun who had escorted her into the garden earlier, Sister Zita, appeared.

“I’m sorry, reverend mother, but you have an appointment,” Zita reminded her, almost as if on cue.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Sister Charity said. “We’re late.”

“Wait a second. I’d like to speak to some of my sister’s friends and coworkers. I know she was close to Sister Lucia.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the mother superior said with a glacial smile.

“I do need to be at the hospital,” Frank said.

Seeing that she’d run up against a brick wall, Val gave up. There was nothing more she could do here.

Today. She headed out of the garden with more questions than she had answers. She was irritated by the reverend mother, simmering with resentment at Father Frank, and still ticked at Slade for following her here.

With Slade only a step behind her, she reached the gate, which, of course, was locked. As if this were some damned prison.

“I’ll get that,” Sister Zita said quickly. Val turned to see Slade, followed by the nun. “Sorry about the reverend mother,” Zita said as she extracted a key from a deep pocket of her habit and inserted it in the gate. “Everyone here is just so upset.” She swung the wrought-iron bars open and met Val’s gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Val said, her throat growing thick. She could handle herself in anger, but kindness brought out her need to break down. Even when it came from a woman whose voice was as devoid of emotion as her eyes.

The gate clicked shut behind them.