"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.

I tried again. "When you went to the motherhouse this weekend, did the Reverend Mother General tell you about the deed restrictions that Sadie had brought to her attention?"

Mother Winifred put the tea things on the table and sat down beside me. "Deed restrictions?" she asked, perplexed.

I spoke to Olivia. "Knowing that Sadie was the main obstruction in your plan, you stopped by her place last night to change her mind. Isn't that true?"

Olivia looked up as if she were about to speak, but she continued to cling to her silence.

I took the boarding pass out of my pocket and laid it on the table in front of her. She glanced at it. A moan escaped her lips and her face went white.

"I found this at Sadie's," I said. "Just outside the kitchen door."

"Yes, I was there," she said, almost inaudibly. I could hear Mother's sharp intake of breath.

"Thank you," I said gently. "Now, tell us what happened."

Olivia was chewing on her lower lip. The silence thickened. Outside the window, a chickadee piped his penetrating four-note whistle. On the hot plate, the kettle was beginning to hum.

Mother Winifred spoke, her voice calm and unexpectedly firm. "You must tell us what happened, Olivia, and what you know. Answer the question, please."

Olivia glanced at Mother with faint surprise. She hesitated, then lifted her head. "It wasn't quite the way you say." Her voice was taut with the effort required to keep

it from trembling. "I know Sadie Marsh. I know that when she says something, no matter how stupid, she sticks by it."

"So you weren't trying to change her mind," I said.

"I told Reverend Mother General that seeing Sadie wasn't going to do any good, but she instructed me to try to talk reason into her. I obeyed. But Sadie had already made up her mind. She wouldn't listen."

Mother Winifred had sat forward on the chair. Both of us were totally captured by Olivia's thin, reedy voice. "What time did you arrive?" I asked.

"I flew into Austin about seven-thirty and telephoned to make sure she would be there. I drove straight from the airport. I got there about nine-thirty. She was ready for bed."

Beside me, Mother stirred. The kettle was beginning to whistle faintly, but I don't think she heard it. "What time did you leave?" I asked.

She moistened her lips with her tongue. ' 'About a quarter to ten. It didn't take long for her to make her position clear. I could see that nothing I could say would change her mind." The blotches grew brighter, and color suffused her neck. "But I had promised Reverend Mother General to give it my best effort, so I did."

"What did you say?"

Her voice seemed to strengthen. "I tried to get her to see that she was making a mistake. I told her that the retreat center would bring a new life to St. Theresa's, that it would contribute jobs and revenue to the local economy." She stopped, cleared her throat. "I told her to think carefully before she closed off those possibilities, because once closed, they couldn't be opened again."

"How did she respond?"

"How do you think?" she asked bitterly.

"Just tell us, Sister," Mother said.

"She laughed." Olivia looked down at her clasped fingers and loosened them until they began to shake, then

pressed them tight again. Her voice had thinned to a thread, each word pulled out of herself with an obvious effort. "She said that after the board meeting there'd be no hope of developing a retreat center here. She said that… the only way to stop her was to… kill her."

Olivia's last sentence paralyzed Mother Winifred and me in absolute, horrified attention. Into that frozen silence, the kettle poured its shriek like the cry of the dead. Blindly, Mother Winifred got up and groped toward it.

I spoke, not so much from a desire to hear the truth as to get the awful, bloody business done with. "What happened then?''

"Then?" Olivia looked at me, her eyes opaque, staring, behind her glasses. "It was over. I left."

"You… left?"

"Yes, I left. What else could I do?" She raised her clasped hands to her breast, speaking with weary despair. "I drove back here."

"That's when I saw you?"

"Yes. I went to my room and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. When everyone went to breakfast, I went to the chapel to pray."

"For forgiveness, I trust." Mother Winifred's voice was ragged. Her hand shook as she poured hot water from the kettle into the teapot.

"For forgiveness?" Olivia cried wretchedly. Half-imploring, half-rebellious, she lifted her eyes toward heaven. "I was praying for guidance! What in the name of Christ am I to do with my life? Does He mean me to dig in the dirt for the rest of my days?" Her voice shattered and she wrapped her arms around herself, bending forward, rocking back and forth. "If anyone should pray for forgiveness, it's Sadie Marsh. She thwarted God's plan for this place!"