She turned to stare at him with wide eyes.
Jeremiah burst out laughing. “I take it you're not in distress.”
“I am, but not the bad kind!”
“Surprise,” Geanie said with a smile, handing Cindy a deck of cards. “To replace the deck you lost.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you,” several people chorused.
She turned and looked at him. “Thank you, Jeremiah,” she said softly.
He thought about the wild week that had ensued after he answered her first scream. He thought of everything that had happened and the lecture that he would get from Marie when he returned to the synagogue.
“You're welcome,” he said, giving her a wink.
Discussion Questions
At the heart of this book is the question of what is safe. In the first chapter Cindy thinks “no one is ever safe.” Has anything happened to you that robbed you of your ability to feel safe? What did you do about it?
At their first meeting (chapter 2) and throughout the book, the detective refers to Jeremiah as a Good Samaritan. What was the story of the Good Samaritan and why does Jeremiah object to the title?
Was there a time when you were a Good Samaritan? Was there a time when someone else was one for you? How did you feel either time?
There is the reality of being a Christian and there is the perception of the outside world to being a Christian. How do these two differ in your life? Are there things you do like Cindy's card playing (chapter 1) that some people wouldn't expect of a Christian? How do you educate nonbelievers about the reality of being a Christian as opposed to the stereotype?
In the opening moments of the first chapter, it is revealed that while Cindy is a Christian and works at a church she still struggles with understanding her place in the church and even what is and isn't church-like behavior. Have you ever felt you didn't fit into a church because people worshiped differently or had different expectations of church than you? What did you do?
Two of Cindy's coworkers, the pastor and the music director, can't get along, and their squabbles hurt the rest of the staff (chapter 8). Are you involved in a dispute with a coworker or fellow church member that is hurting other people? If so, what can you do about it?
What is Passover? How does it relate to Christianity? What part of the Jewish Seders did you find most intriguing or relate to most strongly?
In chapter 7, Cindy reveals that her sister died when she was younger. It clearly has a great impact on her. Have you experienced the death of a loved one that changed how you interacted with life and other people?
In chapter 7, Samuel struggles with whether or not to invite his neighbors to a Seder at his house even though they have expressed interest. Do you know someone who has expressed interest in your faith that you have not followed up with?
If there is someone you haven't followed up with regarding faith, what is standing in your way?
Like Oliver is there some truth from your past that you've been hiding from and that has been slowly destroying you (chapter 19)? What can you do to let the past go and to move on?
Cindy feels like she is constantly being overshadowed by her brother, Kyle, and that her mother favors him. Do you also struggle withaz the feeling that a relative, friend, or coworker overshadows you? If so, what can you do to focus more on your own talents than on wishing you had theirs?
Bonus chapter from book two in The Psalm 23 Mysteries
I Shall Not Want
1
CINDY PRESTON LOVED FRIDAYS. ANYTHING-CAN-HAPPEN FRIDAYS WAS how she liked to think of them. As First Shepherd Church neared the holidays, Fridays became even more deserving of their names. Being a secretary at a church was a far more chaotic life than most people imagined.
For Cindy, the job had gotten even more exciting a few months earlier when she had stumbled across a dead body in the church sanctuary. The week that followed had seen several people murdered by a serial killer. Along with Jeremiah, the rabbi at the synagogue next door, Cindy had been an important key in halting the killing spree.
For a couple of months afterward the church had seen a swell in attendance as people came to gawk at the woman who survived an attack by the Passion Week Killer and helped the police turn the tables on him.
Their interest had gradually waned, and aside from three new members who actually joined the church, things had pretty much returned to normal. That was just how Cindy liked it.
The one unfortunate downside was that her friendship with the rabbi—forged in shared danger—had slowly faded as well. They still exchanged pleasantries over the hedge that separated the parking lots of the church and the synagogue, but not much else. It made sense, really. They had nothing in common.
But Cindy had grown increasingly restless. She blamed it on the fact that the spice of her friendship with Jeremiah had deflated like a birthday balloon. She, Cindy, who had always walked on the safe side of life, had actually been considering doing something a little daring for once.
Of course, participating in a speed-dating event would rank low on most people's danger scales. It wasn't exactly bungee jumping. To Cindy, though, it was bold and risky. She was always so selective about the men she dated, thoroughly getting to know a guy before spending time alone with him. People had told her she was paranoid, but it wasn't like she didn't have reason. After all, the last man she had eaten dinner alone with had turned out to be the same one who had killed the man whose body she had tripped over in the sanctuary. A girl didn't get over that quickly.
No, anything-can-happen Fridays were her idea of excitement. Even showing up at work on a Friday was a big risk. It was the week before Thanksgiving, and people were starting to get that crazed look in their eyes that said Christmas was coming.
Poor Thanksgiving. It had been relegated to the lone Thursday holiday that heralded the biggest day of the year—Black Friday—when every mall was packed with Christmas shoppers. It was a shame, really. It was such an American custom, and in a world that seemed like it was on the verge of constant chaos, people needed that oasis of time to contemplate what had gone before and to be grateful for having survived it one more year.
Geanie, the church's graphic artist, flopped down in the chair at her desk. Her red leather mini-skirt and black silk blouse might have looked odd on someone else, but on Geanie it was almost elegant. By contrast, Cindy's long black skirt, white sweater, and sensible shoes felt boring.
Just then, the front door to the church opened, and Joseph, one of the church's most prominent members and Pine Spring's most eligible bachelor, walked in. One of his dogs, a large white poodle, paced beside him. Joseph walked right up to her desk without hesitation and sank into the chair across from her. The dog lay down next to her master.
“How's it going?” she asked.
He smiled that bone-tired smile people gave when the answer was “crappy” but they were too polite to say so.
“Fine.”
“Are you all set for the big event?” Cindy asked.
He nodded and closed his eyes. “You're still coming tonight, right?”
“Of course, I wouldn't miss it. This is huge, and I want to support it,” Cindy said.
“I knew you wouldn't let me down.”
In addition to all of his church activities and running his own media empire, Joseph was constantly involved with charity work. His latest project, targeted at helping the homeless to improve their lives and find the inspiration and help to get back on their feet, was ambitious. Many critics said he was crazy, but Cindy believed in what he was doing. The church, along with all the others in the area, supported a local homeless shelter, and Cindy dealt with several of its regulars. After weeks of preparation, a new program would be launched that evening on the lawn outside of Joseph's family mansion.
“How's it going, Clarice?” Cindy asked, addressing the dog. “I haven't seen you since you had your puppies.”
Clarice looked at her and gave a slight shak
e of the head.
“She needed a break so I brought her with me. Seven poodle puppies is enough to drive anyone insane. They're fast and clever. She and I have been chasing them all over the house this morning, trying to get them corralled into one room.”
Cindy laughed out loud at the image, and Joseph grinned.
“Six o'clock, right?” she asked.
“It starts at six. Please tell me you'll be there before that.”
“I'll head straight to your house from work. It should only take me about ten minutes.” “You are an angel,” he said.
“Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Your sense of humor. Without it, this might get really depressing.”
She smiled. “I'll do the best I can.”
He stood abruptly. “That's all anyone can ask of us. Thanks, Cindy.”
“You're welcome.”
He waved to Genie and then left the office.
“You should totally go out with him,” Genie said.
“Not my type.”
“Yes, because tall, dark, and rich is sooo unattractive,” Genie said.
“Why don't you go out with him? You're not seeing anyone right now, are you?”
Genie made a face. The younger woman was once again between boyfriends and didn't like it one bit.
When five o'clock rolled around, Cindy chased everyone out of the office, locked the door, and headed for her car. Ten minutes later she was driving up the hill to Joseph's house. She made it to the designated parking area and wedged her car in between a Humane Society vehicle and a news van.
Joseph directed the chaos from the center of the lawn, with Clarice beside him. Half a dozen large tents had been set up with outdoor lights to illuminate them. Several small paddocks had been created with little portable fences. Inside each, a variety of dogs napped, ate, or played with each other.
When Joseph saw her, he hugged her impulsively. Surprised, Cindy hugged him back but pulled away when she saw a flash go off from someone's camera.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“If you could go inside and tell my assistant, Derek, to bring out Buford Augustus Reginald the Third that would be great.”
“Who?” Cindy asked.
“It's a puppy.”
“Oh, Buford … August—”
Joseph stopped her with a raised hand. “Just ask him to bring out Buff.”
“Okay, I think I can handle that,” Cindy said with a smile. “Any idea where Derek will be?”
“No, I've called his cell twice, but he's not picking up. His car's here, though, and he's not outside, so he must be in the house. Try my office first—second floor, third door on the right.”
“Got it.” Cindy turned and headed for the house.
The massive mansion had been built by Joseph's grandparents. She had been in it only twice before, and that was for church functions. When she entered the foyer, she left the noise of setting-up outside. The house seemed empty.
“Derek!” Cindy shouted. So it wasn't dignified to yell, but it would be a lot faster than searching the house. She listened before heading for the stairs.
“Derek!” she called again as she reached the upstairs landing.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of smashing glass, like someone had dropped a water goblet. She noticed the third door on the left was ajar. She moved toward it.
“Sorry to startle you, Derek,” she said, swinging the door open.
There was no one in the room. “Derek!” she called again.
She saw a cell phone on the desk and wondered if it was Derek's. She had seen Joseph's on his belt, and he had said he'd been trying to call his assistant. She moved toward the desk, picked it up, and then turned. Her shoe crunched on something, and she looked down. Broken glass littered the floor on the left side of the desk, and some shards seemed to have flown several feet in all directions.
Behind the desk, sheers that covered the French doors, leading to a large balcony, fluttered in the breeze, and she walked around the right of the desk. As soon as she did, she saw him—Derek—lying on his back with blood pooling underneath his head. His eyes were fixed in a death stare at the ceiling. In his fist, he clutched a dog's leash.
Cindy screamed and leaped backward. She dropped the cell phone on the floor, dug through her purse, and found her own cell. She hit the speed-dial button for Detective Mark Walters, the investigating officer on the Passion Week Killer case.
“It's Cindy Preston,” she said as he answered the phone.
“Cindy?” he asked, sounding bewildered. “Why are you calling me?”
“I'm at Joseph's house—the guy who lives on the hill. Someone's been murdered.”
“On my way. I'll call it in. Make sure nobody touches anything.”
“I will,” she promised, and then hung up the phone.
She heard footsteps racing up the stairs and down the hall. “Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked behind her.
She spun around and stared at Jeremiah in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“The charity event. The synagogue is supporting it. What are you doing here?”
“So is First Shepherd. Joseph asked me to come.”
Jeremiah moved slowly into the room, his eyes checking out every inch. “Did you scream?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It seems you've come to my rescue again,” she said, her voice quivering.
“I don't follow.”
She took a step to the side, and he saw the body. He blinked rapidly several times and then looked at her. “You just found him?”
She nodded.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
She shrugged as tears spilled down her cheeks. “It's anything-can-happen Friday.”
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The Lord is My Shepherd Page 23
