make the sign of the cross when you came in.” “Born and raised Catholic,” said

Knox. “Where do you attend church?” Knox hesitated. “Mostly in my head. I’m on

the road a lot.” “There are many Catholic churches in this country.” “But not

that many in the Middle East.” O’Neil smiled. “To which I think ‘touché’ would

be the appropriate response.” Puller said, “On the drive over, Knox was talking

about taking confession. Sounded like she had saved up a lot.” O’Neil brightened

and said, “Would you like to take confession, Ms. Knox? We don’t ordinarily do

it at this time of day, but I’m always glad to make an exception for a world

traveler in need of a sound Catholic ritual. We don’t have formal confessionals,

but we do have a private space that we can use.” Knox gave Puller a dark look

and said, “I’ll take a rain check on that, Father. But thank you.” O’Neil shook

hands with them again and said to Puller, “I wish you luck in your search.”

Outside, Knox said, “Okay, why do I feel like I need to say a hundred Hail

Marys?” “Confession might’ve cleared your soul.” She lightly punched him in the

arm. “So, on to Williamsburg?” “On to Williamsburg. But I need to call them

first.” Puller made the call as they sat in the front seat of the Malibu. “The

Clarks know we’re coming, and Father Rooney will be ready to talk to us,” he

said once he was finished. “How old is he now?” “They said eighty,” replied

Puller. “Is he in full possession of his faculties?” “Apparently enough to talk

to us.” “Have you seen your dad lately?” “I was seeing my dad when Hull and a

colonel showed up with the letter from my father’s accuser.” “That must have

been tough,” she said. “Not something I’d want to go through every day.” “Does

your dad—?” “Thankfully, he doesn’t know anything. And for the first time I’m

thinking that’s a good thing.” “Did you speak to Lynda Demirjian?” “First on my

list. I spoke to her husband, Stan, too. He doesn’t agree with her.” “But he