CHAPTER 3
The pastor’s young. Not fresh-out-of-college young, but pretty close to it. Mid-twenties is my best guess. He’s got darker skin. Maybe Hispanic. Or Native American. It’s hard to tell. I wonder if he has kids. I know he’s got a wife. I spotted her less than two minutes after I sat down. I didn’t see her talk to him or anything, so I couldn’t tell you how I knew who she was. Maybe the way no one else is sitting next to her except for that white-haired granny lady in the atrocious blouse. Or the way she kind of leaned forward when the pastor stepped up to the podium, or whatever that tall thing up front is called. And he just seems like the kind of man a mouse like her would go for. Strong. Confident, maybe even a little cocky if pastors are allowed a hint of arrogance. And she’s t
