“The girl in question has little to no interest in marrying me. I ordered her to marry me once and didn’t see her again for a full year.”

“Damn. Most girls just say ‘No, thank you, let’s be friends.’”

Søren laughed, though Cyrus had a feeling the man had not been laughing at the time.

“So you going back?” he asked. “Nora says you got until Friday to decide.”

“I have to decide by Friday if I want to go back to teach when the new school year starts. There are hoops galore I have to jump through before they’ll put me back in a classroom.”

“That long stride will help you jump those hoops.”

Now Søren glared at him. Cyrus cackled to himself.

“You could be a professor without being a priest,” Cyrus said. “Right?”

“I wouldn’t be teaching pastoral studies at Loyola.”

“Then teach running at LSU. They got profs for that. Don’t know why, but they do.”

“I’m trying to picture myself as a Track & Field coach. It’s not working.”

“Just saying, you got options. It’s not ‘marry Nora’ or ‘be a Jesuit priest.’ There’s a range…” Cyrus held out both hands three feet apart. “Right hand, marry Nora. Left hand, be a priest. You see all that space in-between? That’s other shit you could be doing.”

“I’m well-aware of my options,” he said. “I just don’t like any of them. Professors, piano teachers, and track & field coaches don’t get to perform weddings and baptize babies, celebrate Mass, and perform Last Rites on the dying and bring a sense of comfort and peace to the family.”

“I get that. I do. I was a cop, then I was shot, now I’m a private detective. Even when I’m not a cop…I’m still a damn cop.”

“We are called to what we are called to,” he said, sounding just like a priest when he said it.

“I’m going to tell you something,” Cyrus said, “and it might come off as me getting back at you for running me ragged back there, but it’s not, okay?”

“Go on.”

“It’s what I tell the married men I talk to when I catch them cheating. You can’t keep your vows, you don’t get to keep your wife. It’s just that simple.”

“Simple,” he agreed. “Not easy.”

“Nobody’s saying it’s easy. I won’t even say it’s fair. I think you priests should be allowed to get married. Not easy. Not fair. But it is what it is and you knew that when you signed up for it. And that’s exactly what you’re allowed to tell me if I ever cheat on Paulina, God help me.”

“You are a wise man,” he said. “And I don’t like you very much right now.”

Cyrus had to laugh at that. “Truth hurts.”

A middle-aged woman jogged toward and then past them, giving him and Søren a knowing look. Cyrus could guess what she was thinking—definitely a weird gay hook-up.

“Here’s a thing you don’t know about me,” Cyrus said. “I’m in therapy. Paulina’s idea, but now I’m a convert. My therapist, she’s a Jungian. Now Jung was a little woo-woo but he’s helped me solve a lot of cases.”