“There now,” Dennis said calmly, coming to his rescue. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re Gina, aren’t you? I remember you were at the party the other night.” Frank carefully released the girl’s arm, allowing Dennis to use his charm. “Can you tell us why Mrs. Brandt was here?”

The girl started rubbing her arm where Frank had held her, but she was looking at Dennis now. Her face was still white, but she said, “She brought me home, and then she talked to Mrs. Wells – ”

“What do you mean, she brought you home?” Frank asked too gruffly. The girl took a step back, but once again Dennis distracted her.

“Why did she bring you home, Gina?” he asked in his gentleman’s voice.

“She wanted to see I got home safe.” She glanced at Frank, but only for a second before looking back at Dennis. “Then she talked to Mrs. Wells and left. I expect she went to see the priest.”

“How did you know she was going to see the priest?” Frank asked, and this time he managed to keep his voice fairly gentle.

She might even have answered him, but Maeve beat her to it. “Because the priest sent Mrs. Brandt a note, except he didn’t know where she lives, so he sent it here and asked Mrs. Wells to get it to her. Gina carried it.”

Frank’s mind was racing. Dear God, why hadn’t he seen it before now? “Who brought the note here? Did anyone see the priest?” He looked up at the faces staring down at him. No one responded.

“Mrs. Wells said a boy brought it,” Maeve offered after a moment.

“Did you see the boy?” She shook her head. “Did anyone see the boy?” Silence. “Did anyone even hear him knock?” More silence.

“Malloy, what is it?” Dennis asked frantically.

Frank turned to face him. “Mrs. Wells was the one who sent the note, and now she’s gone after Sarah.”

“Mrs. Wells, is that you?” Sarah called to the woman emerging from the shadows. “I told you that you didn’t need to come with me.”

“Oh, but I did need to come, Mrs. Brandt.” Her voice sounded strange. It gave Sarah chills.

She knew she was only being fanciful. The eerie stillness of the church had spooked her. “I suppose you’re as anxious as I am to find out who killed Emilia. I hope you won’t be too disappointed if it turns out to be Maeve or one of the other girls.”

“I won’t be disappointed at all,” Mrs. Wells assured her.

Sarah wished she could see the other woman’s face, but it was too dark. The tone of her voice was frighteningly calm, even though Sarah knew she must be extremely upset. She wanted to send her home and spare her the pain of hearing the priest tell her what would surely be horrible news. But she couldn’t spare her forever. “All right, then,” Sarah said. “The priest’s office is this way.”

She turned and started to walk toward the front of the church again. Behind her, she heard the chillingly familiar rasp of a hat pin being pulled from a hat and then the patter of running feet coming up behind her, and in that instant, she understood everything.

Sarah threw herself into the nearest pew as Mrs. Wells dove for her. The woman stumbled, her momentum carrying her forward when she missed Sarah, so that she fell headlong to the floor.

Catching herself on the back of a pew, Sarah kept her feet and started for the opposite aisle as quickly as she could. The space between the benches was too narrow for real speed and her skirts kept trying to tangle with her feet, but she lurched on, knowing her attacker would be hindered the same way if she tried to follow.

She should scream. Someone would come if she screamed, but she didn’t have the breath to do it. She’d have to concentrate on getting away instead.

She heard Mrs. Wells scrambling to her feet. Sarah risked a backward glance. The woman’s hat was askew, and she held the hat pin like a knife, ready to plunge it into flesh. For a second Sarah thought the other woman was going to come after her, but then she turned and started running back down the aisle, toward the rear of the church. That’s when Sarah realized she was planning to cut her off before she could reach the door and make her escape.

Sarah’s only chance was to beat her there. Terror propelled her out from between the pews and into the opposite aisle. Lifting her skirts with both hands, she raced toward the rear of the church. Watching her adversary out of the corner of her eye, she saw that she stood a good chance. If she didn’t fall, if she didn’t stumble, if she didn’t slip…

Her breath gasping, she reached the last pew, and she saw that she was going to make it. She was closer to the door, and she would escape into the street and then she would -

“No!” a shrill voice cried, and Sarah saw a tiny wraith streak from shadows near the doors straight for Mrs. Wells, who was running toward Sarah. The woman caught herself just in time to keep from sprawling over the tiny figure, who grabbed her around the legs as she had done to Sarah only a short time ago.

“Aggie, run!” Sarah cried, freezing in her tracks, but she was too late. The child cried out in pain as Mrs. Wells clutched a handful of her hair and held her fast with one hand while she raised the hat pin threateningly with the other. She looked up at Sarah in triumph. “Don’t hurt her!” Sarah pleaded desperately.

“Why not?” Mrs. Wells asked, her voice icily calm. “She’d be better off, just like the rest of them. She’d be in heaven.”

Oh, dear God! Sarah had to think, to plan. She had to figure out how to save Aggie, so she had to keep Mrs. Wells talking until she thought of something. “Why?” she asked, her voice hoarse with terror. “Why did you do it?”

“I had to save them,” she said, as if that made perfect sense. “Before the devil got them again.” Aggie was whimpering softly, but thank heaven, she wasn’t struggling.

“Were there others, before Emilia?” Sarah asked in an effort to distract her.

“Oh, yes. Once I realized how many of them would weaken and fall away, I knew I had to do something to save them.”

Sarah’s heart was pounding, and she felt the gorge rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “Please, let Aggie go.”

Mrs. Wells considered the request. “All right,” she said, and for a second Sarah’s heart leaped with hope. “But you must stay.”

“My life for hers, is that it?” Sarah asked unsteadily.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brandt, but I can’t allow you to interfere. My work is too important. Those girls will go to hell unless I save them. I can’t let anything stop me.”

The woman wasn’t thinking clearly at all, Sarah realized. She was bound to come under suspicion. But Sarah didn’t think there was any chance of reasoning with her. She could never recall being so frightened. She could barely breathe, but she had to be strong for Aggie. The child kept trying to turn her little head to look at Sarah, but Mrs. Wells held her too tightly, the hat pin poised to strike if Sarah made a false move.

“It will be over quickly,” Mrs. Wells promised. “You won’t suffer.”

Drawing a deep breath, Sarah somehow managed to keep her voice steady. “All right, Mrs. Wells. But you must let Aggie go.”

“Not until… it’s over,” she said quite firmly. “I’m afraid I don’t trust you to keep your part of the bargain if I release her. And she’ll never be able to tell what happened, so it doesn’t matter if she knows or not.”

Sarah thought she heard something outside, but she was afraid to call for help. Mrs. Wells might panic and stab Aggie. She’d have to rely on her own wits and strength to save them both. She took a step toward the madwoman, and then another. Aggie was sobbing now. Another step, measuring, trying to decide how she could grab the hand that held the pin before -

“Sarah!”

The church doors slammed open, and Sarah instinctively looked to see Richard Dennis charging through them.