Lauren frowned. She was lying. But before she could press the issue, the old nun turned to her.
“It’s better that you explore this for yourself. There are reasons why. They’ll become obvious when you find what you need.”
“How do I get in to the library?”
“You simply walk in. If you know how to get there, it’s assumed you belong there.” The old nun smiled at her. “You’re a fair one at making people think you’re something you’re not, I can see that in you.”
Lauren nodded. “I suppose so.”
“Then use that confidence and you’ll be fine.” The old nun stood. “Good luck on your search.” She pressed a piece of paper in her hand. “The address is on that.”
Lauren put her hand in her pocket and stood. “Thank you.”
The old nun’s eyes seemed sad. “Don’t thank me. I fear that what you’re looking for maybe the last thing you wish to find.” She started to walk away.
“You know about this, don’t you?”
The old nun stopped. Lauren could still see the smoke encircling her from the new cigarette. Finally, she turned and walked back toward Lauren. She held out her hand.
Lauren held out her own. The old nun pressed something short and cold into Lauren’s palm. The her withered hand closed over Lauren’s. She looked up into her eyes.
“Just remember that evil cannot exist without good.”
She turned and hurried away before Lauren could call after her.
Lauren opened her hand and stared. There, against her warm skin, lay a small tarnished key, of the kind that might open a very old lock.
I wonder what this is for?
And part of her shuddered to think of what it might open.
Chapter Six
She found the library easily enough, exactly where the old nun had told her it would be. From the outside, it looked like any other brownstone on the tree-lined street, with its old-style iron fence and gate leading up to granite steps offset by twin columns. Ivy grew on the bricks, spreading its long dark green tendrils all over the masonry.
The front door was unlocked.
Lauren pushed in and at once found herself in a large hallway complete with a white marble floor and a vaulted ceiling painted in antique white that contrasted with the rich chestnut brown of the wooden walls. The entrance seemed to radiate a certain coolness about it. Almost as if God himself had laid a hand across this place.
A single door led out of the main hall. But right before the door, just off to its left, sat an old woman in regular clothes at a small oak desk. She had a book open in front of her and didn’t appear to take much interest in Lauren.
Should I say hello? Lauren frowned. Or would that mark her as an intruder?
She walked closer. The old woman turned the page of her book and kept reading. Lauren’s heart hammered in her chest.
Lauren reached for the doorknob.
Turned it.
Heard the click and the door swung back on well-oiled hinges.
Lauren walked through.
She exhaled in a rush, relieved to be past the front door.
As soon as she stepped across the threshold, stacks of books seemed to sprout up everywhere. Books lined every wall. Doorways branched off of this room, each leading to a new room containing more books.
And what books they were! As she walked through the stacks she could make out hand-bound journals of priests and missionaries several hundred years old. Faded limited editions of varying translations of the bible. Historical accounts of the Church not ordinarily released to the public. And so much more.
As Lauren walked through the rooms, she saw only one other person: an elderly nun with her head bent deep into a thick book.
Lauren kept walking. She had no idea where to start.
She frowned. Better to wander around and see what I can discover on my own before I risk asking for help. Besides, she thought, the key the old nun gave me has to open something. Maybe it will be obvious.
It took her thirty minutes to make a pass at all the rooms. As she walked, her footsteps echoed off the floors. At any moment she expected to see people running for her, shouting about trespassing.
But no one came.
Gradually, her heartbeat calmed down and Lauren set about trying to find the locked room she knew she’d have to locate.
It was on the third time through each of the rooms that she saw the small door at the rear of one of them. It seemed to be disguised to look more like a painting than a door. Lauren wasn’t even sure it was one until she got close enough to run her hands along the edges and felt the lip of wood jutting out of it. Peering closer, she saw the lock.
Her heartbeat increased.
Was this the room?
The key felt hot in her hand and she realized she’d been clutching it within the folds of her palm since the old nun had pressed it there hours ago.
Now or never, she thought. She held the key up and then aimed it at the keyhole.
It stuttered into the lock, coughing for a blast of graphite dust to smooth its passage. Lauren turned the key and heard the heavy deadbolt slid back into its recess with a solid thunk.
She opened the door.
A long thin wooden table stood before her, polished to a dull sheen from years of sleeves and elbows resting on it. Around the table, more bookshelves. But the books in this room differed greatly from the rest of the library.
The books here had strange titles.
Some were in foreign languages.
And some didn’t seem very Church-like at all.
As she looked at the titles, she knew she’d found the repository of information she’d need. In this room, the Church apparently kept its documents related to Satanism, exorcism, old legends, witchcraft, supernatural studies, and all manner of accounts on dealing with the occult.
Lauren inhaled, tasting the stale musty air mixed with old leather and smiled. The room seemed to pull at her. It’s as if, she thought, God wants me to be here. Like he wants me to study these subjects.
So she could help Steve.
Detective Curran, she corrected herself.
And smiled in spite of it. Certainly he was the best looking man she'd seen in a long time. Not that he would have ever graced the pages of a fashion magazine, but the rugged features of his face and body made him seem carved out of wood. Tall and strong. And she'd even detected a hint of emotion lurking somewhere far beneath his ironclad exterior.
She laughed almost out loud at the thought of a dalliance with him before pledging herself to God forever. But she quickly abandoned that idea, knowing her path lay elsewhere.
Before her, books stretched out in either direction.
Where to start?
She chose the shelf closest and began scanning the old Latin titles. She’d studied a number of ancient languages in preparation for her Church service. But she still didn’t know what she was looking for.
