“I see,” Caxton said, although honestly she was pretty confused. “What kind of work would that be? I’m afraid I don’t know as much about Raleigh as I thought I did.”
“This is a place of refuge. The girls who come here have all met the dark side of life, one way or the other. They need a place they can go far away from the temptations and stresses of modern life. We provide counseling and therapy, but mostly our work is to provide a different way of life. A simpler way.”
“So this is a halfway house?”
Sister Margot’s smile dimmed, but only by a fraction of a watt. “More like a retreat. A shelter from the storm. Trooper, we try to provide an oasis from all distractions, that’s all.”
“It’s, uh, Special Deputy. Not Trooper. So religion is one of those distractions. But you’re a believer yourself, aren’t you? I mean, you’re a Christian or something.”
Margot’s smile faded a few degrees. “I have taken certain vows, yes. I am required by those vows to wear this habit. The building we’re in was once consecrated to a holy order, as well. In the past it was a home for wayward girls—unwed mothers, to be exact. In recent years we’ve broadened our scope and also our outlook. The work we do here is vital and it must be completed in an atmosphere free of judgment and prejudice. The girls who come here have all made bad mistakes in their lives. The last thing they need is authority figures—like God—to remind them how they’ve failed.”
“Mistakes?” Caxton asked.
“Some became addicted to drugs or to less material pursuits. Some are just lost. What you would call mentally ill. I started out here myself, years ago. I suffered from schizophrenia and delusions of grandeur. This place helped me immeasurably.”
“Oh,” Caxton said. She turned in her seat to look at the girl behind her. “What’s Violet in for?”
The mute girl grabbed her throat and simulated strangulation.
Sister Margot explained. “She attempted to commit suicide by drinking drain cleaner. It was only through an act of great blessing that she survived, though as a result she’ll never speak again or eat solid food.”
Violet shrugged, her smile returning as bright as before.
“I take it some people stay here longer than others,” Caxton suggested.
“As long as they need to. Some of our patients never leave.”
What on earth, Caxton wondered, had Raleigh done to get herself sent to a place like this? “It’s important I see Raleigh as soon as possible. Before dark, at the very least. How much longer is her session going to last?”
“Another fifteen minutes or so. She’ll be brought to you the second she’s done. I want you to know, Trooper, that you are perfectly welcome here, for as long as you must join us. I’d be less than honest, however, if I said that your prolonged presence here was desirable. I worry that you’ll make some of the girls uneasy. A number of them have histories with law enforcement that were less than…convivial.”
“I promise, I’ll be as quick as I can. Where can I talk with Raleigh?” she asked. Sister Margot looked to Violet. “Please find a room where they may talk and prepare it with candles and fire.” The mute girl bowed her head and ran off without looking back. “In the meantime, can I offer you a quiet place to wait?”
Caxton checked her cell phone. She got lousy reception in the office, and she hadn’t checked in with Glauer in a long time. “Maybe some place with a phone?”
Sister Margot’s smile dropped for a moment. “There’s only one telephone in the building, and that’s here, in my office. If you’d like to use it, I’ll just go wait out in the hall.”
Caxton started to protest, but the nun didn’t give her a chance. She headed out the door and left Caxton all alone. Whatever, Caxton thought, and reached for the woman’s phone. She called in to HQ and got Glauer, who had some information for her.
“You asked the members of the SSU to start looking for potential lairs,” he said, and she got excited for a second. “They’ve turned up sixty-?one possibles, from Erie all the way to Reading.”