Sacred Sins

and met Ben's eyes. “It should cool for a while. It sounded reasonable.”
    “Did you have fight?”
    “A fight?” He laughed at that and choked on smoke. “No, we didn't fight. We never fought. I don't believe in it. There's always a logical and reasonable solution to any problem. This was a reasonable solution, and it was for her own good.”
    “Did you see her that night, Mr. Carroll?”
    “No.” He looked around absently for the bottle, but Ed had put it out of reach. “She asked me to come over, to talk it out. She was crying. I didn't want to have one of those tearful scenes, so I said no. I told her I thought it best if we gave it a little time. In a week or two we could have drinks after work and talk about it calmly. In a week or two.” He stared straight ahead. The ash from his cigarette fell on his knee. “She called me later.”
    “She phoned you again?” Ed balanced his notepad on his palm. “What time was that?”
    “It was 3:35. My clock radio's right beside the bed. I was annoyed with her. I shouldn't have been, but I was. She was high. I can always tell when she's had a joint. She didn't have an outrageous habit, just burned a joint now and then to ease tension, but I didn't like it. It's so childish, you know,” he added. “I figured she'd done it to irritate me. She told me she'd come to some decisions. She wanted me to know that she didn't blame me. She was going to take responsibility for her own emotions, and not to worry about her causing any scenes at the office.”

    When he sat back and closed his eyes, his dark blond hair fell over his forehead. “I was relieved at that, because I worried a bit about it. She said she had a lot of thinking to do, a lot of reevaluating before we talked again. I said that was fine and I'd see her Monday. When I hung up it was 3:42. That's seven minutes.”
    Gil Norton had seen the murderer come out of the alley sometime between four and four-thirty. Ed noted the times on his pad, then put it in his pocket.
    “You're probably not in the mood for advice, Mr. Carroll, but you'd be better off if you went up to bed and got some sleep.”
    He focused on Ed, then looked at the litter of bottles at his feet. “I loved her. How come I didn't know it until now?”

    B EN stepped outside and hunched his shoulders against the cold. “Christ.”
    “I don't think Suzanne Hudson would feel like spitting in his face now.”
    “So what have we got?” Ben walked to the car and took the driver's seat. “A selfish, self-indulgent lawyer, who doesn't fit Norton's description. A woman trying to pull back from a bad affair, who goes for a walk. And a psychopath who just happens to be there when she does.”
    “A psychopath who wears a cassock.”
    Ben stuck the key in the ignition but didn't turn it. “You think he's a priest?”
    Instead of answering, Ed sat back and stared at the sky through the windshield. “How many sort of tall, dark-haired priests you figure there are in the city?” Ed took out a plastic bag of trail mix.
    “Enough to keep us busy for six months. We haven't got six months.”
    “It wouldn't hurt to talk to Logan again.”

    “Yeah.” He dipped his fingers into the plastic bag Ed offered without thinking. “How about this? A former priest, one who dropped out because of some Church-oriented tragedy. Logan might be able to get us a few names.”
    “Another crumb. In her report, Dr. Court says he's cracking, that this last murder probably left him disabled for a couple of days.”
    “I read it. What the hell is this? Bark and twigs?” Ben twisted the key and pulled out from the curb.
    “Raisins, almonds, some granola. You ought to call her, Ben.”
    “I'll handle my personal life, partner.” He turned the corner and went a block before he swore. “Sorry.”
    “No problem. You know, I saw this special. It pointed out that in current society, men really have it made. Women have taken the pressure off them to be the sole support—the Mr. Macho who has to handle all the problems and bring home the bacon. Women are generally waiting longer to look for marriage if they look for marriage at all, which leaves men with more choices. Today's woman isn't looking for Prince Charming on a white charger. The funny thing is, a lot of men are still threatened by strength and independence.” He plucked out a raisin. “Pretty amazing.”
    “Kiss ass.”
    “Dr. Court strikes me as being pretty independent.”
    “Good for her. Who