Cross the Line by C.C. Warrens

Author:C.C. Warrens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian fiction, christian romantic suspense, christian suspense, inspirational fiction, private investigator
Publisher: C.C. Warrens
Published: 2022-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

23

Jordan and Marx sipped at their unlimited free coffee in the church café, and I indulged in my fifty-cent hot chocolate. This packet came with the cutest baby marshmallows.

Watching them dissolve into frothy rings reminded me of the night I re-met Jordan and we caught up with a game of truth-or-dare in the break room of the sheriff’s department while I clutched the mug of marshmallow hot chocolate he’d made for me. I hadn’t trusted him enough to be alone in a room with him then, but now he was a frequent mention in my gratitude journal.

I smiled and took a sip of my drink, my attention drifting over the people in the café until it snagged on a man who stood by the counter.

I had seen him on Brushwick Friday night, but I’d been such a twisted bundle of nerves at the time that I hadn’t been able to place where I knew him from.

He stared at me, fear frozen on his face, as he passed a plate with a donut to his little girl. The pregnant woman beside him took the covered mug from his hand and said something.

Startled, he blinked and responded before automatically kissing her cheek. Confusion clouded the woman’s soft features, but she took their daughter’s hand and led her away toward the sanctuary.

He had a child, a wife, and a baby on the way. What had he been thinking, driving to Brushwick and propositioning a woman?

Despite the heat of the hot chocolate seeping through the paper mug, the warmth drained from my fingers as the man started toward us.

I considered excusing myself to the bathroom or ducking under the table, but I sat motionless in my chair, hoping he might chicken out and veer off at the last second.

Did he really want to have this conversation here, surrounded by our fellow church members? Was he going to deflect blame from himself and try to accuse me of something? Was he going to threaten me to stay silent to preserve his marriage and his position in the church?

You need to stay . . .

The unfinished words of my attacker replayed in my mind. Stay what—still, silent, out of his business, out of his way?

I regarded the approaching man with unease, my gaze dipping to his hands to see if there were any scratches from my fingernails. But he was wearing leather gloves—appropriate for the chilly weather and not unusual considering he was still wearing his coat.

He nodded to Marx and Jordan. “Morning, gentlemen.”

Marx offered his hand. “It’s Rob, right? You and your wife helped organize the group that came to the courthouse steps to pray durin’ the trial.”

Rob shook his hand but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, sir, we did.”

I had known there were Christians from our church gathered in prayer, but I hadn’t known he was one of them. His involvement explained why he recognized me the moment he saw me Friday night.

Rob nodded to Jordan and then met my eyes, sweat beading his forehead.

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