Ben sighed as Rebecca’s voicemail picked up. Again. She got busy. It happened. But he really needed to talk to her.

“Hey, Rebecca, it’s Ben. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow—that’s Friday in case you don’t get this right away—with my manager and, possibly, the head of Bread of Heaven about the open house. I don’t know what’s going on, but apparently, something’s come up. They need you there too. Please call me back so I can get you details, maybe arrange to pick you up? After, could we get dinner? I...dang it, there’s another call. Look, call me. Okay?”

He switched over to the incoming line. “Ben Taylor.”

“Oh thank goodness. I’ve been trying to call you all day, but every time I think I have a minute, I get pulled away. Um, this is Rebecca.”

He laughed. “Apparently we’ve been playing phone tag without realizing it. I just left you a message.”

“Okay. I’ll listen to it when we’re done. Look, something’s come up with my folks and I’m taking off tonight and heading to Texas. I’ll probably be back on Saturday or Sunday. I don’t actually have a return ticket yet, but I’m hoping for something this weekend.”

His stomach dropped. “Are they okay? Is there something I can do?”

“No, no, they’re okay physically. It’s all...part of that big, complicated story. I need to run, but I didn’t want to disappear without letting you know.”

What about the meeting tomorrow? “Look, when you listen to the voicemail, just ignore it. The folks here want to have a meeting about the open house Friday. I’ll give Jerry a call and see if he can come instead.”

“That’s...probably a good idea. Sorry.”

He frowned. What was that in her voice? What was going on? “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know yet. You could pray for me. For us.”

“I’ll do that. Will you let me know when you get there? Text me at least?”

“Yeah. And if you need to email or whatever about the open house, go ahead and do that. It’s just Texas, not the end of the world.” Her chuckle was strained. “I’m going to run. Take care, Ben.”

“I’ll see you when you’re back.”

“Mmm. Goodbye.”

Ben ended the call, his chest tight, her goodbye echoing in his mind.

“Thanks for coming down, Jerry. I haven’t been able to pry any information out of them about this, but with Rebecca out of town, I really thought someone needed to be here to represent the mission.” Ben raked a hand through his hair. Other than a brief text last night after she landed, he hadn’t heard from Rebecca. Of course, they were two hours behind in Texas, so it was just barely eight a.m. Maybe she was sleeping in and having a quiet breakfast with her parents. His stomach churned. There was something in the air and it had him on edge.

“I’m glad you thought to call me.” Jerry glanced around Ben’s office. “Are we meeting in here?”

Ben shook his head. “They told me they’d send someone to get us when they were ready.”

“Are meetings always like that around here?”

“No.” Ben tucked his hands in his pockets and focused on keeping his fingers from balling into fists. “It’s very unusual.”

Jerry nodded and mimicked Ben’s pose. Minutes ticked by before the director’s administrative assistant knocked on the door. “They’re ready for you.”

Why did it feel like he was marching to his doom? Ben gestured for Jerry to follow her and brought up the rear. Had he done something wrong? He hadn’t been able to find anything that suggested two non-profits couldn’t work together for a common goal. The accountants hadn’t seen a problem, nor had legal. He walked into the conference room and his eyebrows lifted. The director sat at the head of the conference room. His manager, the head of PR, and the VP of Fundraising were already seated at the long, oval table.

“Ben. Thanks for joining us. This is...?”

Ben cleared his throat and introduced Jerry.

The director watched them as they sat then folded his hands on the table. “I appreciate you coming, Jerry. We received this message on Wednesday and feel like it’s in everyone’s best interest to clear it up before proceeding further with any association between Bread of Heaven and the mission.”

The head of PR pushed a button and the screen on the far wall lit, displaying an email that had the draft of an article suggesting that Becky MacDonald was using the mission as a location for meeting up with underage lovers. After giving people a minute to read, she opened the attachment, which was a photo of the back of Rebecca, her arms around D’Andre, his tear-stained face barely visible above her shoulder.

“That’s ridiculous.” Ben shook his head. “I was there when that was taken. That boy is grieving the death of one of their volunteers.”

“But is that Becky MacDonald? She has quite the reputation...if she’s a resident there...”

Ben sighed. “That’s Rebecca Fischer, a volunteer at the mission who I’ve been working with on the open house plans.”

Heads swiveled to Jerry. “Is that true?”

“It looks like Rebecca, yes. And she is one of the volunteers who tutors the kids after school. D’Andre had been working with my god-daughter, Kira, before she passed away. He’s taken it hard. I imagine, if this photographer wanted, they could have taken a picture of just about every volunteer, and at least half of the residents, comforting D’Andre over the last two weeks.”

“Hmm. So Becky MacDonald isn’t a resident at the mission?” The director drummed his fingers on the conference table.

“That’s correct.” Jerry clasped his hands together. Ben noted his knuckles turning white. Hopefully that went unnoticed by everyone else at the table. Still, it meant Jerry knew the truth and was protecting Rebecca as well.

“All right. That’s all we needed to know. We get enough correspondence from whack-a-doodles, we’ll file this along with it and let legal know. Thanks.” The director nodded a dismissal.

Ben ushered Jerry back to his office and shut the door. “You know.”

Jerry nodded. “I’m surprised you do. She told you?”

Ben let out a mirthless laugh. “No. I did some digging. I guess it stands to reason that if I could piece it together, so could anyone. Though it wasn’t until the church magazine spotlighted her mom that I got curious.”

“Her mom visited the mission, too. I wonder if that’s what started this. Our Board made it clear that Rebecca isn’t to volunteer anymore until this blows over. If it does.”

Ben paced the length of his office. “I don’t understand why this is coming up. I mean really, who cares? It’s not as if she’s a Hollywood starlet. And to be honest, her dad’s not even an A-list speaker in church circles anymore.”

“I don’t know. Did she say anything about why she went to Texas?”

“No. But she doesn’t know I know.”

Jerry’s jaw dropped. “Oh. That...complicates things.”

Ben sighed and perched on the edge of his desk. “I wanted—want—her to tell me.”

“I can see that.” Jerry crossed to Ben’s window and looked out. “I should get back downtown. I’m going to call Rebecca and tell her about the meeting. She knows I know...and I think it’s important she realize that this has spread beyond the mission.”

Ben nodded. When Jerry had left, he sat back down at his desk and stared at his monitor. After a few minutes, he browsed through the contacts on his phone and opened up an email.