Eve slammed her hands on the table, leaned down close. The gesture and the words had Juanita jolting, had tears sheening over the defiance in her eyes.

“And she helped you plan it, every step of your vengeance. She walked you right through it, didn’t she?”

“Where were you?” Juanita demanded. “Where were you when he killed my baby? When my husband grieved so he took his life. Took his own life and will never see God, never see God or our boy again. This is what that bastard did. Where were you?”

“You had to exact payment.” Eve rapped a fist on the table. “You had to make him pay for Quinto. The police didn’t, so you had to.”

“He was my only child, our only child. I told him, I taught him never to look at skin-the color of skin is nothing. We’re all God’s children. He was a good boy. I told him, he had to work, that all of us must earn our way. So he took the work there, there where they killed him. Because I told him to.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, streaming out of misery. “Do you think it matters what you say, what you do? I sent my boy to the place where they killed him. Do you think it matters if you take my life from me now, if you put me away for the rest of it? I can’t see God, just like my husband. There’s no salvation without redemption. I can’t ask for true forgiveness. I killed the one who killed my son. And I don’t repent. I hope he’s burning in hell.”

“Mrs. Turner. Mrs. Turner.” Peabody’s voice soothed, calmed. “You were Quinto’s mother. He was only sixteen. It must have been devastating, the loss. It must’ve been devastating all over again when Penny told you that the man you believed to be Father Flores was Lino Martinez.”

“I didn’t believe her. At first I didn’t believe her.” When Juanita lowered her head into her hands, Eve gave Peabody a small nod of approval. “Why would she tell me this? She’d been his whore once. How could I believe it, believe her? I worked with him, took Communion from him, confessed to him. But…”

“She convinced you,” Peabody prompted.

“Little things. The way he walked, the swagger of it. The basketball, so much pride. He had so much pride in his skill with a ball and a net. His eyes. If you really looked, if you really looked he was there. Inside the priest’s eyes.”

“Still she could’ve been lying,” Eve insisted. “You killed a man on her word? The word of Lino Martinez’s whore?”

“No. No. She had a recording, she’d recorded him, talking to her. Talking about how he was fooling everyone. How he could play the priest and be the sinner. She asked him to say his real name, and he laughed. Lino Martinez, he said. And even his mother didn’t know it. But how everyone would know him again, respect him, envy him. In just a little more time.”

“She made the recording for you.”

“She said she made it because I’d need proof. That she was ashamed of what he’d made her do. What he made her do still. She had loved him as a girl, and she’d fallen back when he’d come to her. But then he told her what he’d done. The bomb, and she couldn’t live with that.”

She wiped at her eyes. “Who could live with that? Only evil can live with that. She couldn’t. She’d found God, found strength, and came to me.”

“And helped you,” Peabody said, very gently. “She understood how shattered you were, and offered to help.”

“He wouldn’t pay for Quinto. He would never pay, unless I made him pay. Unless I stopped him. I could get the poison. I could get in the church, the rectory, the tabernacle. Still, I waited. I waited, because to take a life, even in justice, is a terrible thing. Then she showed me another recording, where he’d talked of the bombing, bragged about it. How he’d pretended to leave days be»o l jufore, but how he’d watched the store blow up. Blow up, with my boy inside. How he’d watched that, and then drove away. His work done.”

The memory straightened her spine. Defiance cut through again as she stared at Eve. “Would God want him to go unpunished?”

“Take us through it, Juanita,” Eve said. “How did you do it.”

“Old Mr. Ortiz died. He was such a good man, so well loved. I took it as a sign. I knew the church would be full, and this murderer on the altar. I went to the rectory before Rosa got there, when Father López and that one were at morning Mass. I got the keys for the tabernacle. I waited until Father López left from morning Mass, and I went in, put the poison in the wine.”

Juanita’s whole body trembled. “Only wine, and never to be the blood of God. I’d be God’s hand, she said.”

“Penny said?”

“Yes, she said I would be God’s hand and strike him down. So I sat in church and watched him do his false prayers over that good man, and I watched him drink the wine. Watched him die. And as he had, with my baby, I walked away.”

“You confessed to Father López,” Eve said. “No, he didn’t tell me. He wouldn’t. But you confessed to him. Why?”

“I hoped somehow, I could be forgiven. But Father said I must tell the police, I must be repentant in my heart. I’m not. How can I be? If I join Lino in hell, that’s God’s will. I know my boy is in heaven.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police, or to Father López with what Penny told you?”

Anger pushed color into her face. “She’d been to the police. They didn’t believe her. And she said he’d kill her. He’d told her he would kill her if she ever betrayed him. She showed me the bruises, where he’d beaten her. I wouldn’t have her life on my hands.”

“She played you.” Eve said it flatly, then rose to pour herself a cup of water. “She played Lino, played you, and you both did exactly what she wanted. Did he make the bomb that killed your son? Yeah, we can be pretty sure of that. Did he plan the bombing? Same thing. But what Penny left out in her ‘I’ve found God’ routine was that she’s the one who told him to up the explosives to multiple-kill level, and she’s the one who pushed the button. She killed your son, Mrs. Turner. And used you to kill Lino.”

All the angry color ran out of her face, but she shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m going to prove it. The point is, Mrs. Turner, you didn’t do God’s will, you did Penny Soto’s. You weren’t God’s hand, you were Penny Soto’s. The person every bit as responsible as Lino Martinez for your son’s death. For your husband’s suicide.”

“You’re lying.”

“It was for money.” Eve sat back, let the idea spin out. “Didn’t you ever ask her, ask yourself why he’d come back, why he’d played priest for over five years?”

“I…”

“You didn’t. You didn’t because all you could think about, all you could see was your son. Ask yourself now. Why would a man like that live the way he’d been living? Money, Juanita, a lot of money. Money he had to wait for, money he planned to share with the only person he really loved. Penny Soto. Thanks to you, she doesn’t have to share.”

“That’s not true. That can’t be true. She was afraid he’d kill her. He beat her, and made her do things, and said he’d kill her.”

“Lies. Lies. Lies. If any of that were true, why didn’t she leave? She’s got no ties here. No family, no real friends, and the kind of work she could do anywhere. Why not just get on a bus and go? Did you ever ask her?”

“He said he watched the bomb, he laughed. He said his name.”

“And he did all of this, freely? He said all this to a woman he had to threaten, he had to beat, he had to force? Think!”

Her breath began to hitch and heave. “She… she…”

“Yeah, that’s right. She. But this time, I’ll be the hand of God.”

She left Juanita with Peabody, closed the door on the woman’s weeping. And just leaned back against it for a moment. When she walked into Observation, she found Reo, Mira, and Father López.

“May I see Juanita, Lieutenant,” López asked. “To counsel her?”

“Not yet, but if you’d wait outside, I’ll arrange it shortly.”