Vengeance. Mystery Writers of America Presents B00A25NLU4

himself or others, I was ethically bound to report that to the police.”
    “Oh.”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “No reason; I was just wondering.”
    He knew his answer was unconvincing and realized that perhaps he wanted it to be. His friend peered closely at him.
    “What’s bothering you, Aleks?”
    “Well, we’ve talked about how our jobs are similar, and I—I was just wondering about that particular point.”
    “You mean the seal of the confessional?”
    “Uh, yes.”
    Lee Campbell leaned his long body back in his chair and shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Aleks. I knew the minute you walked in something was wrong. You don’t have to tell me what it is — in fact, from what you’ve just said, I’m thinking you can’t. But if there’s anything I can do, let me know, okay?”
    Aleks nodded, staring miserably at the empty glasses in front of him. He wanted more than anything to tell his friend everything about the mysterious supplicant and his cryptic confession. And yet he couldn’t; he was bound by his sacred vows.
    “I wish I could talk to you about this.”
    “It’s okay,” said Lee.
    “It’s making me question … well, everything.”
    “Your profession? Are you questioning that?”
    Aleks took another long swallow and traced his finger in one of the deep hollows carved into the wooden table. “I don’t know.”
    “You made a hard choice when you became a priest.”
    Aleks ran a finger over the lip of his mug. “Sofia’s death changed everything. You must understand that better than anyone.”
    “Yes, but I haven’t made the sacrifices you have.”
    Aleks gazed out the window and saw it was raining. He watched the thin, hard droplets slice through the soft pink blossoms on the mimosa trees. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but a few days after it happened, I was lying in bed one night, and I had a vision.”
    “In your sleep?”
    “No, I was wide awake.”
    “What happened?”
    “Sofia came to me. She was standing at the foot of my bed, and she glowed, as though she were made of light beams. And I felt a sense of utter peace and joy come over me like I had never felt before.”
    “Wow. Did she say anything?”
    “No. She just smiled at me. And I knew that she was an angel, and that she was there because God had sent her to comfort me. Suddenly I saw the meaning of Sofia’s death: I was being called by God to comfort those in need, people who had experienced the kind of anguish I had. I knew that if I answered the call, this sense of complete peace might be mine again someday.”
    “So you became a priest?”
    “The next day I applied to seminary school, and I was accepted.”
    “And Sofia? Have you seen her again?”
    “No. But sometimes I have a sense that she’s nearby.”
    Lee raised a hand to signal the waiter for another round. Aleks took a deep breath. It was now or never.
    “I, uh, don’t suppose I could ask you a hypothetical question?”
    “What is it?”
    Is even that acceptable?
Aleks wondered. If he told his friend the story of the mysterious confession as a hypothetical, would that violate the seal of the confessional?
    He had never been faced with a dilemma like this before.
    “You won’t mention this conversation to anyone, will you?”
    “Not if you don’t want me to.”
    Aleks looked around the pub to see if anyone was listening in. Luckily, Monday evening was the thinnest time at the popular watering hole. There were a few people in the back room, but only two other tables in the front room were occupied, one by a young couple too interested in each other to be eavesdropping. Sitting at the other table were half a dozen corporate types who looked as if they had been boozing ever since leaving work. Their jackets were slung on the backs of their chairs, their shirtsleeves rolled up, and their shiny faces were flushed from alcohol. Bursts of boisterous laughter erupted from their table from time to time.
    He leaned in and spoke in a low voice.
    “If one of your patients confessed to committing a terrible crime, would you report it to the police?”
    “What kind of crime?”
    Aleks looked down at his hands, which were trembling.
    “Murder.”
    Lee Campbell sat back, obviously nonplussed. It was clear he knew that the question was not hypothetical for Aleks. Lee shook his head.
    “If I had taken a vow to respect the seal of the confessional, no, I wouldn’t.”
    “Even if it meant a murderer would go