Reborn

"At the moment I do not," he said with a quick smile. "And as to why I keep coming back to the self-proclaimed Chosen, I'm not all that sure myself. But this group of yours—"

"It's not mine," she was quick to say, for she did not in any way wish to be held responsible for what had happened to poor Jim. She glanced at the preoccupied monk. "It's Brother Robert's group."

"I meant yours by association. But no matter. This tiny group of Catholics seems to comprise the sum total of everyone who is aware of the return…" His voice trailed off.

"Of the Antichrist?" she offered. "Satan?"

The term seemed to a

The idea jolted Grace. She almost dropped the broken base of the Infant of Prague she had been holding.

"Oh, heavens! I hope not!"

"For your sake, so do I." He paused, then said, "But I can't help but wonder if there might be a chance that the attack last night was related to this… thing you are involved in."

"You mean," she said, chilled, "someone might have been after me—personally?"

"Only idle speculation," he said, waving a hand in dismissal. "I don't mean to alarm you." He held up the repaired archangel. "There! The glue is set. Where does he go?"

But the idea would not go away. What if it hadn't been a robber? What if the intruder had been lying in wait for the sole purpose of killing her? What if her time of judgment had come and she was to pay for all those lives she had taken in her past? Please, no! It can't be! Not yet! She hadn't had time to make full atonement. She didn't want to spend all of eternity in hell!

Just then there was a heavy pounding on her door and she jumped in fear.

Mr. Veilleur rose to his feet. "I'll get it."

When he opened the door, Martin was there. He looked Mr. Veilleur up and down.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just helping out," the older man replied with a slow smile. Martin's roosterish posturings seemed to amuse him.

Martin turned to her. "I've been trying to call here for the past hour!"

Grace pointed to the shattered remnants of her telephone.

"He got that too. I'm still waiting for a replacement."

Martin looked around, apparently noticing the carnage for the first time.

"Praise God, it looks like the work of the devil himself!"

"Is a crowbar the devil's truncheon of choice?" Mr. Veilleur said, still looking amused.

Brother Robert stepped forward. "What is it, Martin?"

"I've been having Grace's niece watched," he said in a low voice.

Grace was shocked and a

Brother Robert appeared surprised as well. His fingers idly twisted a strand of his beard as he spoke.

"Why didn't I know of this, Martin?"

Martin did not meet his gaze.

"Because I was pretty sure you wouldn't approve. But it was you who said that this isn't over yet. I figured she's our closest link to the soulless one—and to that house where I'm sure the heart of this mystery rests!"

Grace said, "But what has that—"

"She was rushed to the hospital this afternoon."

Grace leapt to her feet. "What happened?"

"I don't know. The member of our group who was watching her today called to say that after lunch she met with her priest friend—the Jesuit who tried to send us away from the mansion on Sunday—who accompanied her to the cemetery and then back to the mansion. They both went inside, and then shortly after that an ambulance raced up and took her away on a stretcher. The priest stayed in the ambulance with her all the way to the hospital."

Grace felt her heart pounding. Poor Carol! And so soon after Jim's death. Good Lord, what can it be?

"There's something suspicious about that priest," Martin was saying. "He's a little too cozy to this whole situation for me to believe he is completely untainted."

Brother Robert said, "The Jesuits have their own agendas, their own priorities, which don't always coincide with those of the Holy See, but I doubt he's in league with the devil."

"He's an old high-school friend of Carol's!" Grace cried. "Oh, please, God, I hope she's all right!"

"It might be just nervous collapse," Mr. Veilleur said. He had seated himself again and begun arranging the broken pieces of a plaque depicting the A

"I've got to go see her," she said, starting toward the closet for her coat.

Brother Robert said, "Why not simply call first and find out what the problem is?"

Grace looked at him and guessed from his expression that Brother Robert was just as eager as she to learn the details of Carol's illness.

"Maybe I should."

Grace got the number of Monroe Community Hospital from information and dialed. When she asked to be co

That upset her. No calls could mean that Carol had a serious problem or perhaps had been taken to surgery.

"What's her room number?"

"Two-twelve."

"And who's her attending physician? Dr. Alberts?" She knew he had always been Carol's family doctor.

"No, it's Dr. Gallen."

Suddenly numb, Grace put down the phone without saying good-bye. It took her two tries to set it properly in its cradle.

Brother Robert, Martin, and Mr. Veilleur were all staring at her.

"What's wrong?" Brother Robert said.

"I'm not sure. Maybe nothing."

"Then why do you look as if you've seen a ghost?"

"They said her attending is Dr. Gallen."

"So?"

"I've heard of him. He's an obstetrician."

Mr. Veilleur dropped the A

2

"Did I lose the baby?" Carol said, holding on to the hospital-bed side rails like an overboard sailor clinging to floating debris.

Dr. Gallen shook his head. He was on the young side— maybe thirty-five—plump and fair, looking sort of like the Pillsbury Dough Boy after a visit to Brooks Brothers. He had yet to develop the imperious air of many of his colleagues. Give him time, Carol thought. But right now she was glad he was down-to-earth and amiable.

"As far as I can tell, no. You came awfully close, but I believe the fetus is still intact."

"But my pregnancy test was negative!"

"Who ordered it?"

"Uh, I did, sort of."

"When did you run it, sort of?"

"The Sunday before last."

"Almost two weeks ago. Too early. You were pregnant, but your urinary HCG levels weren't high enough to give you a positive. You got a false negative. Happens all the time. A few days later and it probably would have come out positive." He waggled his finger at her good-naturedly. "That's what happens when nonmedical staff members try to play doctor without going to medical school. Now, if you'd come to me in the first—"

"How far along am I?"

"I figure four to six weeks. Probably closer to four, If you're still pregnant."

Carol thought her heart would stop.

"If?"

"Yes, if. Although I'm pretty sure you haven't lost it, there's still a possibility you might have. We'll keep you off your feet a couple of days and keep ru

Reality slammed into Carol with numbing force. She fought the tears.

Try again? How? Jim's dead.

The pain must have shown on her face.

Dr. Gallen said, "Is something wrong?"

"My husband… he was killed Sunday."

His eyes widened. "Stevens? Not that Stevens! Oh, I'm so sorry. I've been out of town. I'd heard about it but I… somehow I never made the co