Arlene sat in the outer office of the Unique Opportunities employment agency in a small vestibule with three leather chairs. She was the only occupant, a young woman who felt out of place in the navy-blue suit she wore to interviews. Her last agency assignment hadn’t ended well. The police had let her go when her psychic abilities hadn’t resulted in any arrests. If they’d sought a mass grave or a kidnapper who ransomed groups, she might have been more help; her abilities allowed her to establish a rapport with a location, not an individual. The agency knew her skillset, yet they insisted on sending her out on typical psychic jobs.

Mrs. Lentz invited Arlene into her office and showed her to a chair that matched the ones outside. A middle-aged woman fighting a few extra pounds, Mrs. Lentz shook her head and took a seat behind her cluttered desk. “The police appreciated your work but terminated your contract early for lack of success. Perhaps you’d be better suited at a regular employment agency.”

Arlene’s heart sank. Her rent was due, and her boyfriend had recently moved out. If Unique Opportunities dropped her, she’d have to take a job washing dishes or walking dogs.

Mrs. Lentz looked up from her screen. “How are you with ghosts?”

“Ghosts? I’m not sure they exist.”

“There’s a nunnery being haunted by a young girl. Her appearance has resulted in one death.”

Arlene raised her eyebrows. “I’m not Catholic. And I don’t see dead people.”

“They’re providing a good rate, quarters, and a bonus if you get rid of the ghost before it kills anyone else.”

Why hadn’t the convent performed an exorcism? Maybe they only worked on possessed people and not possessed locations.

“Here’s the address,” Mrs. Lentz said. “Good luck.” She didn’t need to tell Arlene this was her last chance at the agency.

“Thank you.” Arlene took the slip of paper, feeling she was wasting everyone’s time.

Grabbing her travel bag, Arlene took a taxi to the address Mrs. Lentz had given her. When she walked through the red brick gateway, the atmosphere of St. Bernadette’s settled over Arlene like a warm blanket. The quiet felt so pleasant she considered becoming a nun on the spot.

The large grassy space was surrounded by red brick walls. One end held a modest chapel connected to the outside world, and the other end contained several small buildings. A manicured vegetable garden bordered one wall, its dark earth adding to the smells of life in the enclosed space.

Mother Sanchez waited for her with a smile. The only sign that she was a nun, aside from the rosary hanging around her neck, was an abbreviated gray and white wimple covering her hair.

“I hope silence doesn’t disturb you,” Mother Sanchez said. “It’s very quiet here.”

Arlene took a deep breath and smiled. “I like quiet.”

“You’ve missed lunch, but we can visit the kitchen after I show you to your room.” Mother Sanchez’s brown eyes sparkled, and the corners of her mouth turned up as if she was about to tell the punchline of her favorite joke.

“I’m not hungry.” Arlene took another deep breath, enjoying the respite from the bustling city outside. Had years of prayer and quiet contemplation created this peaceful sanctuary?

Her small room at the convent smelled of soap and lavender. An open window looked out onto the green, and a braided rug covered the wood floor. Like everything at St. Bernadette’s, the quiet and comfortable surroundings invited contemplation.

Mother Sanchez looked around the room. “I hope this will be comfortable.”

“It’s very nice,” Arlene said.

“Do you wish to unpack before you begin your investigation?” the mother superior asked.

Investigation? Did Mother Sanchez think Arlene was a private detective? The convent must know Unique Opportunities employed people with psychic abilities, even weak ones like Arlene’s.

“I’d like to start now, please,” Arlene said.

She left her bag on the chenille bedspread and followed the reverend mother from the room. They reentered the courtyard and walked to a tidy garden alongside the green.

“Mother Sanchez, I’m sorry you lost someone.”

“Thank you. Sister Gladys fell down a flight of stairs. It could have been an accident, but others saw the apparition, too.”

“What did the ghost look like?”

“They say it looked like a former novice, Mary Elizabeth. In the end, her demons overcame her. We found her in the chapel, dead at her own hand. We don’t know where she got the gun.”

The pain of loss was evident in the deep frown on the woman’s face. Arlene believed suicide for Catholics prevented them from entering heaven.