" 'Xactly what I told Mother Winifred," the deputy said. ' 'Trouble is, that kind of crazy is well-nigh impossible to catch unless you jes' happen to be standin' next to her when she flicks her Bic."

Ruby pushed her hands into her sleeves. "Then how do you know it's one of the nuns?"

The deputy gave her a long, squinting look. "Excuse me for sayin' so, Sister, but you ain't in full possession of the facts."

Ruby sighed. "I'm not a sister either."

The deputy had had enough. "Then what's that thing yer wearin'? Yer bathrobe?"

"You're absolutely right," I said hastily. "We're not in possession of the facts, full or otherwise. All we've heard so far are rumors."

He swiveled to look at me. "You ain't talked to Mother Winifred?"

"Not about arson."

"She ain't asked you to look into the fires?"

I shook my head, but the situation was coming clearer. It became crystal clear when the deputy said firmly, "Well, she will."

Great. I had thought I was going on retreat. Instead,

Mother Winifred and God had decided to call me to do an arson investigation. I sighed. "You were the investigating officer at these fires?"

"Yep. Sheriff Donovan's been laid up since he got broadsided by a drunk a couple months ago." He pushed his mouth in and out. "Gotta tell you, though, Miz Bayles. It's real tough to get a fix on what's goin' on out there. Nobody sees nothin', nobody knows nothin', ever'body covers for ever'body else." He looked from Maggie to Ruby. "They don't call you 'sisters' for nothin'."

Ruby opened her mouth and Maggie was about to say something, but I spoke first. "In your mind, Deputy Walters, where exactly do I come into this?"

He scratched his jaw. ' 'Well, Mother Winifred-''

"No," I said, "what do you think?"

He puffed his cheeks, debating with himself. Finally he said, "Well, usin' an undercover civilian, 'speshly a woman, ain't somethin' the sheriff's office would norm'ly agree to. But seein's how all the suspects are sisters, an'-"

"Undercover!" Ruby exclaimed excitedly.

Maggie pulled at my sleeve. "I swear, China," she said in a low voice, "I didn't know Mother Winifred was going to ask you to do something like this. I thought she meant to ask you to look into the letters."

"What letters?" I asked.

The deputy raised his voice and plowed on. "Seein's how the suspects are all women, I says, yeah, sure, go ahead, find yerself an investigator. Just lemme know so's I can clue her in. Couple days later, she gives me yer name." He hitched up his pants. ' T figure what the hell, might as well be you wastin' yer time as me. Them fires was pretty dinky anyway."

I was beginning to get the drift. Baffled and frustrated, Walters had more or less given up on the investigation. And he was trivializing the fires, which was a bad mistake. They

might have been minor so far, but fire can be deadly. Dwight might not be around to put out the next one.

I gave Walters a measuring look. "Just what makes you think I can find the arsonist when you've already struck out?"

" 'Cause Mother Winifred says you're an experienced investigator." He looked uneasy. "That's right, ain't it? I wasn't expectin' no private license, but you do know what you're doin', don't you?"

"Of course she knows what she's doing," Ruby said. "China is very smart."

I turned to Maggie. ' 'What did you tell Mother Winifred about me?"

"I didn't have to tell her anything," Maggie said, half-defensively. "When I mentioned your name and said you wanted to come for a retreat, she knew who you were. She said she'd heard about Rosemary Robbin's murder, and the way you identified the killer." She bit her Up. "But I had no idea she was going to ask you to investigate arson."

"Well, if you've had investigative experience, this little job oughta be a cinch," the deputy said briskly, forgetting that ' 'this little job'' had already frustrated him all to hell. "I'll give you a copy of the report an' my notes. All you gotta do is ID the torch an' I'll make the arrest." He frowned. "This don't mean yer offish'ly on the team, though," he added, in case I thought he was inviting me to become one of the Carr County good old boys. ' 'Sheriff says no way kin I dep'tize you, untrained an' a woman an' a ex-lawyer an' all that. You get hurt, you might sue." He narrowed his eyes. "You ain't armed, are you?"

"Not unless you count my cuticle scissors," I said.

"That's good," he said. "Anyhow, you won't need no gun. Firebugs don't go in fer rough stuff. Especially a sister." He waved at a silver Trail ways bus pulling up to the corner, belching foul-smelling black smoke. "You won't have no trouble."

"I knew about the letters, Maggie muttered, "but I can't believe a nun would deliberately set a fire."

"What letters?" I asked again.

"Letters?" The deputy pulled his eyebrows together. "Somethin' I shoulda bin told about?"

The driver got out of the Trailways bus and began pulling things out of the baggage compartment. An old man draped in an ankle-length brown army overcoat and a short, plump blond woman in jeans and a green parka climbed out and stood, waiting for their luggage.

Ignoring the questions, Maggie turned to me, her mouth set. "The arsonist has to be an outsider. I don't want to accuse anybody, but the Townsends certainly have a grudge against-"

"Lemme give you the straight of it, Sister," the deputy broke in, speaking with authority. "The Christmas Eve fire was in the sacristy, behind the altar. There was mebbe twenty people in the chapel besides the nuns an' Father Steven. None of the congregation could git into that sacristy without bein' seen. Nope, the torch is a sister. You kin bet yer boots on it."

Maggie's voice held an edge. "Have you questioned the Townsends? You know how much they hate St. T's. For ten years, they've threatened to-"

"The Thanksgivin' fire was in the kitchen," the deputy said, raising his voice. "Nobody was on the scene but nuns, the good father, an' the maintenance man. Mr. and Miz Townsend was over at their boy's house all day." He smiled toothily at Maggie. "You 'member their boy, I reckon-Judge Townsend?"

"What about the maintenance man?" I interrupted. "Did you check him out?"

He shook his head. "Didn't need to. Hadn't of been for Dwight, the whole place mighta burned down. He's not an employee with a grudge, 'f that's what you're thinkin'."

Maggie was about to say something else, but she was

interrupted. The plump woman in the green parka suddenly ran up, flung her arms around Maggie's neck, and cried, "Oh, Margaret Mary, my prayers have been answered! You've come back!"

And Maggie, calm, serene Maggie, burst into tears.

Chapter Four

The woman in the green parka was Dominica, the friend Maggie had mentioned. We were introduced when I came back from Deputy Walters's office with a copy of the arson report, and I learned that she'd been in Austin at a two-day computer school. She had arrived in Carr expecting to call Dwight to pick her up. But that wasn't necessary now. We shoved her duffel bag into the trunk of Ruby's Honda and squeezed her into the backseat, beside Maggie.

"Computer school?" Maggie asked when we'd shut the doors. She had regained her equilibrium, but her eyes were still teary.

Dominica 's round, pleasant face was flushed and she was holding on to Maggie's hand. She might have been thirty-five, but it was hard to tell-she had the kind of youthful face that doesn't betray age. "It was Reverend Mother General's idea. She put Sister Olivia in charge of the bookkeeping, and Olivia put me in charge of the computer." She pulled off her green wool cap and shook out her hair. It was long and a gray ash-blond that added years to her age-and startled me. I thought nuns had to wear their hair short. Obviously, I wasn't up to date on monastic hairstyles.