Through the Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

almost eight. We’ll be late for church.”
    Paul ran a finger along my cheek, down my neck, and hooked his finger in the V of my knit top. “Why don’t we go to the eleven o’clock service, Hannah?”
    â€œI just love cold oatmeal,” I said.
    The oatmeal was cold, but the microwave fixed that.
    And as it turned out, we didn’t miss the coffee hour between services, either. Finding a parking space had been a problem, though, so by the time Paul and I straggled into the fellowship hall at St. Cat’s, we were breathing hard.
    Erika Rose was manning the door. “We missed you at eight-thirty,” Erika said in the same disapproving voice she probably used on her children, if she had any, or on the hapless litigants she faced every day in a Baltimore courtroom. Erika thumbed through the name tags in the slotted tray, located ours, and held onto them for a few seconds, as if our tardiness required an explanation before she’d turn them over.
    I glanced at Paul and rolled my eyes.
    â€œRunning late today,” Paul muttered as he pinned the name tag to his lapel.
    â€œBig party last night,” I added while attaching my name tag to my scarf.
    â€œI figured,” she said. “Sorry I couldn’t make it. Had a deposition that kept me at the office until nearly midnight. Who knew the latex glove business could be so litigious?”
    I was trying to remember if Erika Rose had actually been on the guest list, all the while thinking up something witty to say about latex, gloves or otherwise, when Pastor Eva rescued me. “Good to see you both!”
    Evangeline Haberman had been rector of St. Catherine of Sienna Episcopal Church on Ridgley Avenue for less than a year, but she had already won the hearts of parishioners by her open and caring manner, not to mention her ability to deliver a cogent, yet motivational ten-minute sermon. “Running late this morning?” She looked at me suspiciously, one dark eyebrow raised.
    â€œâ€™Morning, Eva.” I felt my face flush. Was my hair standing on end? My lipstick smeared? Nothing seemed to get by the Reverend Evangeline Haberman.
    Eva winked. “You two must have been partying until the wee hours of the morning. Please thank your daughter for inviting us, by the way. Roger could have boogied on until dawn, I think, but, alas, we had to leave early. I had a sermon to tweak.”
    Indeed, Pastor Eva had come to the party wearing a slinky red number as far removed from her usual clerical garb as Times Square is from Paducah, Kentucky. I’d caught glimpses of Roger but hadn’t spoken to him.
    â€œSorry I missed chatting with Roger,” I said.
    â€œHe was perfectly charming, Eva,” Paul said. “I introduced him to Mongolian barbecue and the mayor of Annapolis, in that order. When I last saw him, they had their heads together, discussing bus routes.”
    â€œWhat’s going on today?” I asked. “We had to park miles away and walk,” I added, hoping that would help explain my less than put-together appearance.
    â€œWe have a visiting choir from Atlanta, Georgia. You probably noticed the bus in the parking lot.”
    I nodded. The darn thing had been taking up six parking spaces.
    â€œ ‘Ezekiel Saw the Wheel’ proved a little too much for some of the seniors at the early service, but I certainly enjoyed it. Blew the steeple clean off the roof.” Eva laid a hand on my arm. “When the psalmist wrote about making a joyful noise unto the Lord, I doubt he had short-circuiting hearing aids in mind!”
    â€œI’ll look forward to it,” I said, although my taste in church music leaned more toward Bach, Mozart, and William Byrd. A lot more.
    Eva grinned. “You know me! Always like to shake things up a bit.” Dark, shoulder-length hair swinging, she turned to grab the upper arm of a kid who rocketed into the fellowship hall, making a beeline for the