Secret Agent Minister Read Online Free PDF

dangerous, unscrupulous people.
    He’s one of the good guys, Lydia, she reminded herself as she chanced a glance over at him. Remember that. Then she tried to imagine all the places he’d been, the horrible things he’d seen in his operative days. And he’d said he had to retire? What did that mean? Not, I retired, but I had to retire. There was a big difference in that particular wording. And just who wanted him dead?
    He’d said he thought he knew who.
    So she asked him. “Who’s behind this?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “But you think you know, right?”
    “I’m pretty sure, yes.”
    “Did you do something bad, for someone to want you dead?”

     
    Dev didn’t speak for a while. Their feet crunched on leaves and twigs, each sound causing Lydia to walk closer to him. He grabbed her hand to keep her from tripping against his feet, since she was like a shadow right at his heels.
    “I didn’t do anything bad,” he finally said. “I did do something that made some people very angry at me. But I had my reasons.”
    “Such as?”
    “I can’t explain it right now, Lydia. I’ve got people investigating things. It’s very complicated.” That was an understatement. He didn’t know where to begin.
    “Yeah, well, it would have been nice to be forewarned about…your past life. I’ve known you for a while now, and I never would have guessed—”
    “That’s how CHAIM wants things. We’re trained to fit right in, wherever we go. Sometimes, we fit in too well.”
    “You can say that again. Are you even a real preacher?”
    He looked over at her, masking the piercing hurt her doubt brought. “Of course I am. I attended seminary in New Orleans. I trained to be a minister. I just got sidetracked for a while.” Then he shook his head. “No, that’s not exactly correct. Being in CHAIM taught me more about being a Christian than anything else, even preaching.”
    “I guess so, what with all the deception and intrigue. I’m sure that comes in handy each Sunday when you’re quoting the Gospels to all the good, decent folks back in Dixon.”
    “I know you’re confused and angry,” he said, taking her hand again. “But my experiences in CHAIM have helped me with my messages each Sunday. My past life has taught me compassion, and understanding and unconditional love.” Then he squeezed her hand tight. “Lydia, I can’t bear you being angry at me. But I certainly don’t blame you.” He let out a long sigh, his hands dropping to his side. This wasn’t going to be easy, not with Lydia. She was too innocent for this. “If I’ve lost your respect, then I truly am lost.”

     
    That comment shut her up, good and proper. But she glowed in her silence, and she didn’t exactly feel like pouting anymore. He wanted her respect above all else? Did that even hint at any type of feelings he might have for her, other than those of friend and coworker and fellow Christian?
    Lydia swallowed hard, prayed for guidance, then said, “You did have my respect, and you still do. I just wish I’d had your trust so you could have told me about all of this.”
    He pushed a hand over his face. “It’s not a matter of trust. CHAIM doesn’t allow us to give out information. We tell no one. We don’t share the details of our jobs. That would put too many people in danger. And I think someone has done exactly that—given our identities and our locations away. There are people all over the world who’d like to see all of the CHAIM operatives dead.”
    “Starting with you?”
    “It looks that way, yes.”
    “But now that I know about CHAIM, can’t you give me a few more hints? I need to be prepared for the worst.”
    He heaved them both up an embankment, then stopped to take in the lay of the land while Lydia stopped to marvel at his strength—not just his outer physical strength, but an inner core that now radiated around him and made him seem powerful and heroic in her eyes. And made her wonder, yet again, just how