"I know," she said. "I just wish…" She laced her fingers together and looked down at them.
"Well, if it's any comfort," I said, "he probably won't be doing the autopsy. I'm sure Carr County doesn't have the facilities to test for serum digoxin levels. He's likely sent the body to Bexar County-which means it'll be Wednesday or Thursday before there's any news." I stirred. I needed to add Dominica to my list of people to talk to, and Sister Rowena, the inftrrnarian. But first I had to deal with Sister John Roberta and Dwight.
"I have to make a phone call later this afternoon," I said. "May I use the telephone in Sophia?"
"Of course," Mother said. She stood up. "Or the one in my cottage, as you prefer."
"The office phone will be better," I said. "I don't want to be overheard." I paused. "I need to talk to Dwight's probation officer."
"Probation officer?" Mother was startled. "You mean. Dwight has been in prison!"
"You didn't know?"
She shook her head. "Hilaria must have known, but she didn't mention it. I suppose she thought the idea might make the sisters… nervous." She pressed her pale lips together. "What kind of crime did he commit?"
"I don't know. I wonder-does Dwight have a personnel file?"
"Yes. After you told me you wanted to search his cottage, I found it. There's not much in it, though. What did you discover when you went through his things? Do you think he might be our arsonist?''
"I don't know yet," I said. I thought of the Camels and the rifle I had seen in his truck. "It does look like he's the guy who shot at me yesterday afternoon, though." I paused. "And I found Mother Hilaria's diary under his mattress."
"So that's what happened to it!" she exclaimed. "But why would Dwight have taken a diary?"
"Perhaps because he didn't want anyone to read about his continuing disagreements with Mother Hilaria. She gave him a raise, but he seems to have wanted a promotion."
Mother Winifred stood and began to walk up and down. "He wants to be farm manager," she said. "He's asked me twice, and I turned him down both times. I'd no idea he approached Hilaria as well."
"Mother Hilaria noted that he threatened her. Has he said anything to you that could be construed as a threat?''
"Not exactly. But he has been rather forceful." She shook her head. ' 'Hilaria should have mentioned it, but she kept her own counsel about things like that."
But Mother Hilaria hadn't kept her own counsel where
the letters were concerned. Questioned Sr. O about Sr. P's letter. "If Mother Hilaria had needed to discipline one of the St. Agatha sisters," I asked, "how would she have handled it? Would she have spoken to the sister directly, or would she have asked Olivia to intercede?"
Mother Winifred frowned. "Directly, I'd say. I don't think she was very fond of Olivia. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she didn't fully trust her."
"When you went through Mother Hilaria's papers, did you find a poison-pen letter directed to her?"
Mother's pale blue eyes opened wide in astonishment. ' 'To Hilaria? No, of course not! If I had found such a thing, I would have told you." She shook her head. "Her papers are in my desk. You can look for yourself."
"Perhaps later," I said. "Have you had a chance to speak to the housekeeper about the hot plate in Mother Hilaria's cottage?"
"I talked.to Sister Ruth this morning after Mass and told her you wanted to locate an item in the storeroom. She said she'd be in her room this afternoon. She lives in Hannah."
"Thanks," I said. "By the way, have you seen Maggie?"
Mother's smile lightened her tired face. "Margaret Mary is spending a day or so on retreat. I believe she plans to come to supper this evening, though." She glanced at me. "She's told you about her decision to return to St. Theresa's?"
"Yes," I said. "I was a little surprised."
"I can't say I was. I've felt all along that God wanted Margaret Mary to be here. I was delighted to learn that she has come to the same conclusion."
"Of course," I remarked, "her coming will delay the election that would have taken place after Sister Perpetua's death."
Mother's mouth pursed. "God works in mysterious ways, my child. Perhaps that's why He brought her back just now."
"Perhaps." I glanced at my watch and stood. "Could I ■c that personnel file?"
"Of course." Mother Winifred went to the door that led li the cottage, then paused. "Oh, I'm forgetting. Tom Rowan called just before lunch. He'll be here this afternoon:o discuss some financial business. He asked me to tell you that he'll stop by Jeremiah and say hello, perhaps about four."
Tom?
Mother didn't appear to notice the sudden flush on my cheeks. "He mentioned that you two were friends," she said, and opened the door. "He's a fine man, so attentive to his father. And quite attractive, too, don't you think?"
"I suppose," I said shortly.
Mother gave me a curious glance. "You've been friends for long?"
"We knew each other in Houston."
She walked across the room to an old walnut desk. ' 'His father was glad to see him come back, although I must say that the circumstances of his return were not exactly-" She unlocked a drawer and took out a folder. "But you probably know all about that messy business in Houston."
I didn't. I wondered what it was.
When I'd left that morning for Jacob and my meeting with Gabriella, I had locked my cottage and taken the key. To be doubly secure, I had pulled a tiny feather from my pillow and inserted it between the door and the jamb about four inches from the floor. A bit melodramatic, maybe, but when I now saw that the feather was still there, I knew that nobody had been in my room in my absence-or was there now, waiting for me. And that Mother Hilaria's diary was still safely hidden under the cushion of the chair.
I glanced at my watch. It was almost one-thirty. While I waited for John Roberta, I lay down on the bed and went over Dwight's personnel file. Mother had been right-there wasn't much in it. A partially filled out sheet indicated that
Dwight H. Baldwin had been hired in July, three years before. No prior addresses, no references, no next of kin or emergency phone numbers. If Dwight had had a life before he became St. Theresa's maintenance man, it wasn't documented here. Neither was his prison record. Maybe Mother Hilaria hadn't known about it when she hired him. Or maybe she wanted to give him another chance, and decided to act as if he were clean.
I closed the file and glanced restlessly at the clock. It was one thirty-five and John Roberta hadn't shown up yet. By one-forty, I knew she wasn't coming.
I frowned, remembering the Little nun's obvious anxiety. If I tell you what I know, she'd said, barely above a whisper, will you help me get away? And when I'd asked her what made her think she was in danger, she'd gasped something about Sister Olivia and Sister Rowena. What was it? Sister Olivia says we have to stick together. And Sister Rowena says if I tell, I'm being disloyal. They might-
Might what?
Had someone prevented John Roberta from keeping our appointment?
What was it that she was so anxious to tell me?
I stood, filled with determination and a new energy. She wasn't coming. There was no point waiting. I found the roster of sisters and put it in the pocket of my jeans. I had too much to do and too many people to see to waste time hanging around here. I needed to talk to Ruth about the hot plate, Olivia about her conversations with Mother Hilaria last summer, Anne and Dominica about the poison-pen letters they had received-and John Roberta, if I could find her. I also had a phone call to make, and Tom was planning to drop in.