Sacred Sins

daily basis.”
    Her hand was wet and very gentle when she set it on his. “It was a filthy day, wasn't it?”

    “That has nothing to do with it.” He took her hand in his a moment, studying it. It was rather small and narrow, delicate at the wrist. “My father sold used cars in a dealership that was barely on the right side of the tracks in the suburbs. He owned three sport coats and drove a DeSoto. My mother baked cookies. If a cookie could be baked, she did it. Their idea of a night on the town was the Knights of Columbus hall. I punched my way through high school, crammed my way through college for a couple of years then the Academy, and I've spent the rest of my life looking at dead bodies.”
    “Are you trying to convince me that you're not good enough for me because of cultural, educational, and genealogical differences?”
    “Don't start that shit with me.”
    “All right. Let's try another approach.” She pulled him into the tub.
    “What the hell are you doing?” He spit out bubbles. “I'm still dressed.”
    “I can't help it if you're slow.” Before he could regain his balance, she slid her arms around him and closed her mouth over his. Often, even a psychiatrist knows it's action rather than words that gets to the core. She felt the tension ebb and flow before he reached for her. “Ben?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Do you think it's relevant, at the moment, that your father sold used cars and mine didn't?”
    “No.”
    “Good.” She drew back, and laughing, brushed bubbles from his chin. “Now, how are we going to manage to get your pants off?”

    T HE pizza was stone cold, but they didn't leave a crumb. Ben waited until she'd dumped the carton.

    “I bought you a present.”
    “You did?” Surprised, and foolishly pleased, she looked at the paper bag he offered. “Why?”
    “Questions, always questions.” Then he drew it back as she reached for it. “You really want to know?”
    “Yes.”
    He moved closer, close enough to slip an arm around her waist. The scent of the bath was on both of them. Her hair was pinned up and damp. “Well, I think I'm going out of my head. Yes, I think I'm going out of my head, over you.”
    She let her eyes close slowly for the kiss. “Little Anthony,” she murmured, playing the tune over in her head. “Was it 1961, '62?”
    “I figured you being a shrink, you'd fall for that approach.”
    “You're right.”
    “Don't you want your present?”
    “Umm-hmm. But I think you have to let me go so I can open the bag.”
    “Then don't take too long.” He gave it to her, watching her expression as she looked inside. It couldn't have been better—the blank frown, the surprise, then the amusement.
    “A dead bolt. God, Ben, you know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”
    “Yeah, it's a real talent.”
    Her lips curved as she pressed them against his. “I'll always treasure it. If it was a little less bulky, I'd wear it next to my heart.”
    “It's going to be in your door in less than an hour. I put my tools in the kitchen closet the other day.”
    “Handy too.”
    “Why don't you see if there's something you can do for a while. Otherwise, I'll make you watch.”

    “I'll come up with something,” she promised, and left him to it.
    While he worked, Tess edited a lecture she was to give at George Washington University the following month. The buzz of the drill and clank of metal against wood didn't disturb her. She began to wonder how she had ever tolerated the total silence of her life before him.
    When her lecture was in order and the files she'd brought home dealt with, she turned to see him just finishing up. The lock looked bright and secure.
    “That should do it.”
    “My hero.”
    He shut the door, held up a pair of keys, then set them on the table. “Just use it. I'll put my tools away and wash up. You can sweep the floor.”
    “Sounds fair.” As she walked toward the door, she paused to turn on the television for the news.
    Though there seemed to be more mess than the small lock warranted, Tess swept the sawdust into the pan without complaint. She was straightening up, the pan and broom still in her hands, when the top story came on.
    “Police discovered the bodies of three people in an apartment in North West. Responding to the concern of a neighbor, police broke into the apartment late this afternoon. The victims had been stabbed repeatedly while bound with clothesline. Identified were Jonas Leery, Kathleen Leery, his wife, and Paulette