Sacred Sins

wouldn't fall apart here, not here. He feeds off this in the most unhealthy way.”
    She watched the priest consume the wafer, then after the sign of the cross, drink the wine. Symbols, she thought. But how far had one man taken them beyond symbols to flesh and blood?

    The priest held up the host and spoke in a clear voice. “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. Speak but the word and my soul will be healed.”
    Members of the congregation began to shift out of pews and shuffle down the aisle to receive communion.
    “Do you think he'd take communion?” Ben murmured, watching the slow-moving line.
    “I don't know.” She suddenly felt cold, cold and unsure. “I think he'd need to. It's renewing, isn't it?”
    The body of Christ.
    “Yeah, that's the idea.”
    The man who'd been paging through the hymnal rose to go to the altar. The other man Ben had watched kept his seat, with his head bent either in prayer or a light doze.
    There was another who felt the need and the longing rise up urgently inside him. His hands nearly trembled with it. He wanted the offering, the flesh of his Lord to fill him and wash away all stain of sin.
    He sat as the church filled with voices.
    “You're born in sin,” his mother had told him. “You're born sinful and unworthy. It's a punishment, a righteous one. All of your life you'll fall into sin. If you die in sin, your soul is damned.”
    “Restitution,” Father Moore had warned him. “You must make restitution for sin before it can be forgiven and absolved. Restitution. God demands restitution.”
    Yes, yes, he understood. He'd begun restitution. He'd brought four souls to the Lord. Four lost, seeking souls to pay for the one Laura had lost. The Voice demanded two more for full payment.
    “I don't want to die.” Laura, in delirium, had gripped his hands. “I don't want to go to hell. Do something. Oh, please, God, do something.”

    He wanted to clasp his hands over his ears, to fall on his knees at the altar and take the host into himself. But he wasn't worthy. Until his mission was finished, he wouldn't be worthy.
    “The Lord be with you,” the priest said clearly.
    “Et cum spiritu tuo,” he murmured.

    T ESS let the freshening breeze outside play on her face and revive her after over three hours of services. The frustration was back as she watched the stragglers from late Mass stroll to their cars; frustration and a vague, nagging feeling that he'd been close all along.
    She linked her arm with Ben's. “What now?”
    “I'm going into the station, make a few calls. Here's Roderick.”
    Roderick came down the steps, nodded to Tess, then sneezed three times into his handkerchief. “Sorry.”
    “You look terrible,” Ben commented, and lit a cigarette.
    “Thanks. Pilomento's checking out a license plate. Said a guy across from him mumbled to himself through the last service.” He tucked the handkerchief away and shivered a bit in the wind. “I didn't know you'd be here, Dr. Court.”
    “I thought I might be able to help.” She looked at his reddened eyes, sympathizing when he was wracked with a fit of coughing. “That sounds bad. Have you seen a doctor?”
    “No time.”
    “Half the department's down with flu,” Ben put in. “Ed's threatened to wear a face mask.” Thinking of his partner, he looked back at the church. “Maybe they had better luck.”
    “Maybe,” Roderick agreed, wheezing. “You going in?”
    “Yeah, I've got some calls to make. Do me a favor.

    Go home and take something for that. Your desk's up-wind from mine.”
    “I've got a report.”
    “Screw the report,” Ben said, then shifted as he remembered he stood a couple of yards from the church. “Keep your germs home for a couple of days, Lou.”
    “Yeah, maybe. Give me a call if Ed came up with anything.”
    “Sure. Take it easy.”
    “And see a doctor,” Tess added.
    He managed a weak smile and headed off.
    “Sounds to me like it's heading into his lungs,” she murmured, but when she turned back to Ben, she saw his mind was already on other things. “Look, I know you're anxious to make calls. I'll take a cab home.”
    “What?”
    “I said I'll take a cab home.”
    “Why? Tired of me?”
    “No.” To prove it, she brushed her lips over his. “I know you've got work you want to do.”
    “So come with me.” He wasn't ready to let her go yet, or give up whatever private,