Darby said in a casual tone. Gracie stared ahead quizzically. “I’m sorry?” Dalton leaned out and mouthed her a question. She gave him an uncertain glance back. “You need a ride, Miss Logan,” Darby observed somewhat smugly. “And I’m calling to offer you one.” Her mind scrambled to make sense of the call. She recognized the name, of course. She couldn’t exactly count herself among the pastor’s fans. Far from it, truth be told. But that didn’t really matter now, nor did it tell her what she needed to know. “How did . . . ?” she stammered. “Who gave you this number?” “Oh, I have a lot of friends, Miss Logan. Well-connected friends. I’m sure you know that. But that’s beside the point, which is that you need to get yourself and my most esteemed brother in Christ out of danger. And I can help you do that. Are you interested?” She tried to park his offer to one side while she dealt with the competing bits of information that were clamoring for attention and tried to figure out where they stood.
