A/N: For anyone unfamiliar with the religious terminology I've used, I've put a glossary at the end of the chapter.

He lay in his bed, one hand beneath his head, the other on his chest, staring at the ceiling. How many nights did he spend in just this manner, watching the shadows play across the ceiling as the wind whispered through the trees outside the window?

Streetlight….shadow…streetlight…shadow…

Sleep was elusive yet again, so his mind replayed the evidence of the five murders. Some cases never bothered him…others haunted him. Right now he was haunted by this case. Today was the tenth day. If the killer was going to adhere to his pattern, a new body was going to be found tonight. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was the disturbing work of more than one killer and everything that connected one to the other was random. Sigh. Who the hell was he kidding? He knew he wasn't wrong.

The phone rang, shattering the silence of the night. Rolling toward the nightstand, he lifted the receiver from its cradle. "Goren."

"You were expecting this call, weren't you?" Deakins asked.

"Unfortunately."

"You were right, Bobby. Number six has turned up."

"Another church?"

"St. Cecelia's, in Chelsea."

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

He laid a finger on the cradle to terminate the call, then dialed a number he knew by heart. On the fourth ring, she picked it up. "Day ten," she said softly.

He smiled to himself. He hated to wake her, but he loved the sound of her voice after she had just woken. "Day ten," he confirmed.

"Ok. I'll be right there."

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Another man in his thirties, strangled and left on the steps of the church. Goren gently lifted the man's shirt off his abdomen. The number six, painted in blood…and more blood, all over the man's pants…oh, no. Eames approached as he was unbuckling the man's pants. "Just when I thought you couldn't surprise me any more."

Unzipping the blood-sodden zipper, he took a look. Then he closed the pants back up. "Well?" Eames asked.

"Gone."

Gone? She took a deep breath. "What is gone?"

"All of it."

"No…the entire package?" He nodded. "This just keeps getting worse."

Together, they walked to the front of the church, where the priest who had found the body was sitting alone in a pew. This was the first case where the body had not been found by a patrolling officer. He was a young man, not yet forty, although his hairline had already begun to recede. He had a kind face, a gentle manner. "Father Sean?" Eames said softly. "I'm Detective Eames and this is Detective Goren. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

He looked up at the detectives and rose to his feet, still shaky from his gruesome discovery. Goren gently grabbed his arm. "Stay seated, Father. It's ok."

He sat in the pew behind the priest while Eames sat in the one in front of him. Goren asked, "It's kind of early to start getting ready for Mass, isn't it, Father?"

The priest turned quiet gray eyes toward the big detective. "It's never too early, or too late, to pray, Detective. I came into the church to pray."

"To pray…with someone? Were you…meeting someone here?"

"At three o'clock in the morning?"

"A priest is always on call to his flock."

Father Sean studied him intently. He ran his hand over his sandy hair and his face relaxed into a smile, though his eyes remained troubled. "No, Detective Goren, I was not meeting anyone. I was having a restless night and I often find peace here in the church. Surely you can understand a man seeking peace."

Goren nodded. Yes, he understood that…better than most did. "Why did you choose to come in…the front doors?" He indicated the main doors of the church. "There is a side entrance, over there. That would be…closer to the rectory."

Humor flashed in the priest's eyes as he looked at Eames. "Is he always so…" He looked for the right word, not wanting to offend either officer.

Eames almost smiled at the young priest. "Nosy? Yes. He's very good at it." She looked at her partner, noting the amusement in his eyes. "But it's our job to be nosy, Father. It's just that my partner is better at it than most."

Father Sean looked at Goren and said, "I don't know why I chose that entrance, Detective. I didn't think about it. I came out the front door of the rectory and walked down here to the front door of the church. I didn't use the side entrances, and I don't have a reason why." He got to his feet, not quite as shaky any more. "I've told you all I can. I couldn't sleep, so I came over from the rectory to pray in the church, and I found that poor man on the steps. Now if you please, I still have prayers to say. A man has died, and I need to pray for his soul, and for whoever killed him. Let me know if I can be of further service."

They watched him walk away from them. He stepped up onto the altar, genuflected and disappeared into the sacristy. Eames looked back toward her partner and she did not like the look on his face. "What?" she asked.

"He knows more than he's telling us."

"He's lying?"

He looked at her. "Not quite. But there's something he's hiding…or someone, maybe. 'I've told you all I can.'" He shook his head. "Something is not right."

"Maybe you're reading too much into it."

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"You never do, Bobby."

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Carver looked at Goren, exasperated. "Detective, I cannot issue a search warrant for a church and rectory on a matter of semantics or a gut feeling, even one of yours. I need something more concrete. Father Sean has every right to pray in his church at three in the morning if he wants to. That does not make him a criminal."

"But…"

"No 'buts,' Detective. Get me something more substantial, and then we'll talk."

The ADA left the office. Goren turned to the captain. "I'm not wrong about this."

"Maybe not, but leave the good father alone, until we know something more."

Agitated, Goren left the office and headed for his desk. Deakins looked at Eames. "What do you think?"

"I don't think the father committed the crime, and neither does Bobby."

"But…"

"But he thinks Father Sean knows more than he's telling."

"And you?"

"I'll go with his instinct unless we find out otherwise."

"All right, follow up on it, but keep an eye on your partner. If Father Sean is involved in some way, I don't want him getting away because Goren leaned on him too hard. Priests have a way of disappearing within the Church when the pressure gets put on."

"I'll do what I can."

She joined her partner at their desks. He looked up at her. 'Crap,' she thought. She knew that look. "It's Sunday, Eames. Let's go to Mass."

genuflect: to bend the knee in worship; sacristy: a room where priests prepare for Mass, vestments and sacred vessels are kept there; rectory: priest's residence