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toward Calvano. I felt a connection strengthen between them and I wondered if Father Sojak had the same power I did to rifle through, or at least feel, the memories that others held in their minds. Calvano was not intimidated. He was on familiar ground. But the nun hiding in the hallway grew visibly more nervous. Her hands were trembling and sweat gleamed on her forehead.
    â€˜I assure you that I am telling you absolutely everything I know about Danny Gallagher,’ the priest said firmly.
    â€˜But not everything about Arcelia Gallagher, are you?’ Calvano asked.
    Father Sojak sat quietly, looking at his hands. They were long and graceful and I could understand why some might feel as if they had held the power to heal.
    He remained mute, trying to decide how much he could trust Calvano. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence.
    The nun was trembling. I moved closer to her, brushing up against her with my essence. She did not even notice.
    â€˜Arcelia helps the newest immigrants,’ Father Sojak said in a near whisper. ‘People from her country, fleeing the drug wars as she was forced to do. Her husband does not know about it. They come here, frightened and far from home, and she calms them. She understands what they are running away from and why they feel they must come here for a better life. Because of what she has been through, she speaks with conviction and from the heart. They respond to her. She has helped many families reunite and many lonely people find their way to a new beginning. I don’t know what these people are going to do without her. We have nuns who understand what they are saying, but only Arcelia understands what they are feeling.’
    â€˜And none of these people have their papers, do they?’ Calvano asked, although he knew the answer already.
    The priest shook his head.
    â€˜I’m not with Immigration,’ Calvano told him. ‘I don’t care if they’re here illegally or not. But I need to talk to them. They may have seen something. They may know something. You must understand how important this is?’
    â€˜I don’t think any of them will agree to talk to you,’ the priest said. ‘I will do my best to convince them. But where they come from, the men who have badges are often the ones they fear the most. But I will see what I can do.’
    â€˜What about you?’ Calvano asked. ‘When is the last time you actually
saw
Arcelia Gallagher?’
    â€˜She came here the day before she disappeared,’ Father Sojak confessed. ‘She wanted to talk to one of our other parishioners. I did not know where he was and I could not help her. She left and I do not know where she went.’
    â€˜How about if I talk to that parishioner?’ Calvano asked.
    â€˜I had not seen him in a week when she came looking for him and I still do not know where he is,’ Father Sojak said firmly.
    Calvano understood. The parishioner was an illegal immigrant and Father Sojak had no intention of telling Calvano where he might be. He rose to go. The nun, visibly relieved that the questioning was over, backed slowly down the hall. When she reached a smaller doorway at the other end of it, she glanced at it. I could feel her anxiousness radiating toward whatever was behind that door. Interesting.
    Calvano and the priest were exchanging goodbyes and I could have followed the old nun as she scurried away down the corridor. But I was a much better detective than I had been when I was alive – and I knew that at least one clue as to where Arcelia Gallagher might be lay behind that door.
    As I approached it, I could feel the emotions I had sensed earlier rising in me, growing a hundredfold in strength. I suddenly knew, with an unshakeable certainty, that behind that door lay lifetimes worth of hopes and dreams, an endless plane of happiness and misery entangled together – the essence that connects all human beings. I passed through the