“I…”
David Marks without words. Interesting.
A preacher with secrets. At the moment she didn’t care.
“That’s my deal, Pastor,” she said, because she was sure she had the upper hand, and because she was worried about hanging on to her sanity, and doing something would help.
He didn’t have to know she’d give him her silence, her faithful service to his church, the free and clear title to her home if he wanted those things in exchange for Ellen’s attacker.
He didn’t say anything. Martha started to feel better for the first time in weeks. Like maybe she wasn’t completely powerless, after all.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” That had been easier than she’d expected.
“Yeah, but you have to promise not to ask questions.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t a preacher. Her word wasn’t as binding as his, was it?
Not that, in her experience, preachers’ words were all that binding.
“Can you go to Phoenix tomorrow afternoon?”
“Of course.” She could go tonight—just give her two minutes to pull on some shoes. She looked down. And clothes.
“I’ll pick you up at one,” he was saying. “That’ll give you time to feed your kids after church.”
“I’ll be ready.”
It was only when she hung up the phone that Martha realized she was going to be spending far more time than she wanted to with the new preacher. Alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I DIDN’T SEE SHELLEY in church today….”
David kept his mind focused outside himself as his Explorer sped between Shelter Valley and Phoenix. He was not looking forward to this particular trip back to his own hometown.
“She went to San Diego with Monica Wilder and her parents,” Martha said, maintaining, in her tone, the face of friendliness she’d been wearing since he’d picked her up. Her arms, crossed over her chest, told their own story. “I wouldn’t have let her go this close to midterms, but she’s been hanging out with this girl, Whitney Hines, a lot lately, ignoring Monica, who’s been her best friend since preschool.”
“Whitney Hines?” David asked, frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever met her.” He’d met another Whitney, though. One who was much more sophisticated and mature—and less innocent—than a Shelter Valley teenager would ever be.
And he wasn’t going to think about that.
“They don’t attend church,” Martha was saying. “I don’t really know that much about her, except that, until this year, Shelley and her friends all stayed away from her.”
“Where does she live?” A new family to visit.
“I think it’s just her and her dad, and they live outside town someplace. From what I’ve heard, he’s a laborer at the cactus jelly plant.”
One hand dropped off the steering wheel he’d been clutching as David mentally took up the challenge of these unknown parishioners.
“Did you ask Shelley why she changed her mind about the girl?”
“Of course,” Martha said, and David welcomed the hint of the acerbic tone he was used to. Martha Moore all sweet and soft was a bit disconcerting. “She claims she just didn’t take the time to get to know her, and now that she has, she really likes her. They have biology together.”
“Have you met her?”
“Nope.” Martha shook her head. “I’ve asked her to invite Whitney over, but so far she hasn’t. And now that Shelley has her license, she and Ellen share the second car and I have less of a chance to meet their friends on the way to and from activities.”