“Uh… not exactly a ministry.”

The lights went out. “No?”

She did ministry-like stuff, didn’t she? “Well, sometimes the girls confide in me about boys and stuff, and I try to talk to them about God.”

“Is it evangelical?”

“Uh…”

“Do you open their eyes and their hearts to the depth of their sin, leading to death, and their need for a personal savior?”

Lex blinked and stared at him.

Alvin took that to mean encouragement. “Do you lead them in a prayer of confession and surrender to Christ, inviting Jesus to dwell in their hearts?”

“Not… exactly. I coach them to play volleyball.”

“Do you have outreach where you invite non-believers to come and experience the love of God’s children?”

“Um… well, anyone can join. It’s a club team.”

“Do you have prayer and worship before and after each game?”

“That would be a no.”

“What do you do with them?”

“I tell them God loves them and cares about their problems. I tell them I’ll pray for their girlfriends to forgive them, and for boys to notice them, and – ”

In shock, Alvin eased away from her. “That’s not a ministry.

That’s just recreation.”

“What’s wrong with recreation?”

His mouth pursed so small it almost disappeared into his chin.

“I’m afraid I can’t donate God’s money to something that won’t give Him all honor and glory.”

Lex glared at him. “Fine.”

Next victim.

She had to choose with care. Didn’t want another Alvin -

“Okay, everybody, take your seats.” The worship leader strummed a full chord on his 12-string acoustic guitar.

Rats. Too much time wasted with Alvin.

She took her seat and then drew into herself when they started with the song “Indescribable.” She sang the words, trying to ignore how uncomfortable they made her feel. Why couldn’t God be describable? He needed to work on expanding the English language. She didn’t like the whole limitless aspect of deity.

Then they moved to “How Great is Our God,” and Lex could hang with that. God is great. She sang and felt that same pull of greatness that made her first believe – the power that had overwhelmed her so that she had no choice but to believe.

The associate pastor – who took care of the singles and youth groups – talked about trusting God. Pretty appropriate, since she was trusting God to make sure she succeeded in finding a sponsor, finding a boyfriend, or even both. Hey, she had resources, right? She could do it.

As soon as the pastor prayed to close the meeting, Lex had found her next target. She bolted out of her seat and plopped down next to Randy.

“Hey, Randy, what do you say to contributing to a junior high girls’ volleyball team? Great opportunity to – ”

“Sorry, Lex. I only support overseas missions.”

Lex blinked a few times. “Why?”

“Jesus called us to make disciples of all nations.”

“America is a nation.”

Randy waved a hand. “We have ample access to churches, whereas people in other nations have no chance to hear the gospel.”

Her neck itched, which meant a flush rose up from her chest, which meant she wasn’t controlling her temper very well. “People die from poverty in America as well as in India.”

“But the people in India haven’t heard about Christ, so they’re more important to reach.”

Her cheeks felt like she had a lemon in her mouth. “I want my family to become Christian. Most of them are Buddhist. And they live in America.”

Randy shrugged.

Breathe in through your nose, out through your nose. Well, she didn’t bother to go down the List with Randy. Another thing to add to the List: Make sure his theology doesn’t exclude basically any American who doesn’t know Christ.

Lex glanced around at the sparse crowd of people for Singles Group tonight. She was oh-fer-two, but maybe -Her cell phone chirped. “Hello?”

“Leeex?”

“Trish? What’s wrong?”

“Leeex.” Belch. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Are you drunk? ”

Lex met Randy’s horrified stare. Oops, she had said that rather loudly. A few other people tried not to look like they were listening.

“I’m jus’ a leedle tipsy,” Trish answered her.

She got up and headed toward the door, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Where are you?”

“Um… Club Yellow Fever.”

She’d have to MapQuest it. “Stay where you are, okay? Are you inside the club?”

“I’m at my car… I can’t open the door.” Giggle. “I think I lost the handle.”

THIRTEEN

Lex had gotten her pepper spray and stuck it in her pocket. She considered sneaking her brass knuckles into her purse but thought the bouncer might object.

She shouldn’t have worried. After parking next to Trish’s car but not seeing her, Lex entered the club doors, where no one stood guard.

Pulsing dance music drummed against her liver while darkness winking with wild lights made her feel like she was looking at a Christmas tree through sunglasses.

How was she going to find Trish?

She phoned Trish’s cell, but no answer – not surprising if she didn’t have it on vibrate. Which she never did. Lex hated to admit it, but the bar was a logical place to look.

What had made Trish get sloshed like she did at that one frat party in college? Looked like lots of these people were roaring drunk too. A laughing blonde smashed into her. “Oops, sorry.”

Ugh. Sour martini breath.

Lex tried to avoid touching anyone, slowing her progress. She wove in and out, ducked and darted, side stepped and backtracked.

A half hour later, she’d circled the entire dance floor twice, searched the bar three separate times, gotten a stiletto in her instep, and had beer spilled on her pants. Trish would have fifteen “missed call” messages on her cell phone if she ever thought to check it.

Lex headed toward the bar. One last pass, and then she’d blow this joint. She inched around a large group of people near the entrance to the dance floor, trying to avoid being touched or splashed by swinging arms still attached to glasses of drinks.

A hand landed heavy on her shoulder.

She snapped rigid as steel. Her self-defense classes flashed through her mind. “Haaaiyaah!” She nipped backward and grabbed the offending hand, turning around and twisting the hand palm-up at the same time.

“Owowowowowow – Lex! It’s me!”

“Richard! Dummy, you know better.”

“Leggoleggo – aaah.” Richard flapped his wrist. “I called your name but you didn’t hear me.”

“Oh.” She had the grace to feel sheepish.

“Hey, lemme introduce you to someone you’ll like. He’s into sports too.”

She perked up at that. “Really?” She then deflated and glared at Richard. “What’s the catch?”

“Huh?”

“Is he married? Gay? Living with his mother? And what is he doing in this bar?”

He thumped her forehead with his finger before she could slap him away. “He’s a nice guy. Trust me.”

“Ha! That guarantees he’s a dweeb.” But she followed him. She had to admit she was intrigued if Richard’s friend really was into sports. Maybe, like her, he didn’t normally come to places like this.

She could look for Trish while she moved through the crowd, right?

Lex appreciated Richard’s extra height and heftier bulk as he cut a smooth path through the people chatting and drinking. Lex huddled in his wake and twisted her body to avoid being brushed by the people around them. They passed a few small bistro tables, all with a dozen people around them. Finally, they reached a booth – boy, the guy snagged a booth! – in the corner, where the noise level muted slightly.

Three guys lounged against the padded seat, each nursing the latest of several drinks, if the empty glasses indicated anything. Oh, great. Conversing with drunks. Her favorite crossword puzzle.

“Lex, this is Tigh Anders.”

A broad but not fat man with a toothy smile stood to shake her hand. His paw engulfed hers like being swallowed by a whale.