The sermon left Gregson with a headache, like he had been hypnotized. It was a hungover feeling that he couldn’t shake with the church’s coffee. The girl with that sly smile was standing there, waiting for something… Gregson took his cue.
“Miss—can I get you a drink?”
“This isn’t a bar,” she laughed.
“Of course not! We’re in church. Maybe some holy water?” His humor was lost on her face, like empty wind blowing against her mountainous cheekbones. Then she smiled. It was delayed long enough to let him know—she could smile or not smile. It was her choice.
“I’m Liz,” she said.
“I’m Gregson,” Greg said. He was sizing-up her form—the features of her body were less obvious than his enormous frame— but taking up space was alpha, right?
“What do you like to do for fun?” He asked.
“Would you like to go?”
“You are a man of action!”
“Just one question… who is the pastor’s new secretary?”
“Aren’t you worried about what happened to the last one?”
“Oh, that was an accident—a crime though.”
“Do you suspect Pastor Steve?”
“Oh no. He’s a terrific man! In fact, we go skiing together every Sunday. You’ll have a chance to meet him!”
Gregson contemplated their love triangle, or murder triangle, was more like it!”