I figured I would head to the old church. I knew I was taking a risk being seen by Enrique’s men, but I wondered whether Beatrice was waiting there for me. Sure, sometimes she was a handful, but I couldn’t let her walk into a trap because of me.
Entering the church, I looked back. Carefully, I walked into the foyer and took a dab of holy water, although I wasn’t a Catholic or a religious person of any persuasion.
The church was ancient. Mass had just cleared when I ventured into the empty building. Looking each way, there seemed to be no sign of Beatrice anywhere. In front of me, I saw a booth where the priest usually took confession. I knew what they were but had no clue as to what they were actually called. Confession booths, I guess.
The altar was decorated on one end with the Virgin
