Gerri strode up the steps into the church, meeting Gil just inside the church by the altar. She moved silently and reverently as she came to join him. No matter how long it had been since she had been in one, churches always inspired reverence in her. Traditions and memories came tumbling back to her as she looked around in awe. She smiled slightly at Grissom from the pleasure of being in the church, not from the reason she was here.

"Gerri, this is Father Dominick, the parish priest." Gerri extended her hand to the priest, noting the heavy sadness in his eyes.

"Pleased to meet you, Father, though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances. My name's Gerri Simms."

"The pleasure is all mine." the Father replied. He blinked as he released her hand. "Sister Katherine was well loved in our parish, its such a terrible loss. Who would do such a thing?"

"That's what we are here to find out, Father. Now, if you'll excuse us?" Grissom nodded to the priest and began to walk down the aisle. Gerri too nodded her goodbye to the priest and carried her toolcase, following Grissom down to the sanctuary. She felt the priest's eyes on her as she joined Grissom, but when she turned around, he was gone. She looked at Gil, meeting his dark blue eyes.

"I forgot that you were Catholic." Gil said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as he reached for the door.

"Non-practicing, like other people I know." the statement was barbed, and she knew it. "He was looking at me, Gil."

"So? He's an ordained priest, not dead, Gerri." Gil admonished her, pulling his flashlight out and turning it on. The light in the sachistry was weak at best, but the blood stains were clearly visible about the room. Gerri donned her gloves and unpacked her camera, quickly assembling it and beginning to snap pictures.

"Eckley handled the body, but he's passing the rest of the case off to us." Grissom informed her as he indicated the broken glass from a candle holder. A long shard was wrapped in the nun's scapular and covered in drying blood. "Murder weapon."

Gerri took a photograph of the shard then lowered the camera. "First blush, Gil?"

"She fought back, like Christine."

She tried to scream as she was dragged down the aisle. He held her with a steel grip as he opened the door to the sachistry. He threw her into the room, slamming her against one of the candles that burned by the stained glass window. Before she could move, he was atop her, hand pressing against her windpipe. He ripped off her scapular, reaching with his other hand for a long shard of glass from the candle holder. She watched, fear flashing in her eyes, as she watched him fashion the knife. He held her down as he slashed at her, then beginning to stab her. He watched as she bled to death in the sachistry. Then he ran.

"Wow." Gerri whispered after Grissom had finished replaying that for her. She looked around her, eyeing the blood that splattered the wall and floor. Something in a darkened corner caught her eye. She illuminated the corner with her flashlight beam as she stepped closer. She put a finger against the wall, just below what she saw.

"Gil, look at this." she read the words aloud as Grissom stood behind her. "Kyrie elaison, criste elaison."

"Latin. Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy." Grissom translated.

"I know that Grissom, I was raised Catholic." she retorted, raising the camera and rereading the words through the viewfinder.

"And apparently, so was our killer."

*****

Grissom had let her leave the scene some four hours later. She sighed as she climbed out of the shower, having let the warm spray ebb away her tension. She again wondered why Grissom had called her to the church, and not one of the other CSIs. Maybe he was trying to evaluate her, decide if he really needed her on his team. Grissom could be cold, but he was not vindictive. Gerri sank into her bed, curling under the soft down comforter. The blackout drapes sealed external light from the room, enfolding her in imitation night. She dreamt of Grissom, dreamt of the words she had found on the wall of the sachistry. Something dark hovered in the back of her mind, casting a shadow over everything else in her dream. Something inside Gerri knew that the darkness would kill her if she didn't stop it first.

*****

He knew her name now. It was scribbled over and over again on the legal pad that sat on the desk before him. He was standing in the shadows when she talked to Dominick. He grinned, knowing the way Dominick looked at her. Dominick liked her too. He lay his pen down and traced the name with his right index finger, unable to feel the paper through the Band-Aid. Gerri Simms. Not very feminine, unlike her. She'd make a good offering to the monster, after he had his fun with her. He smiled and ripped the page off the legal pad and crumpled it into a tight ball. He tossed it across the room in the direction of the wastebasket. He would have to wait for her, though. It was too soon, not after the three last night. He laughed at this thought, he had enjoyed the murders, but who would ever suspect a priest?

*****