After sipping a Seven-Up that Randi had brought him, his innards seemed to settle down a bit. He left the room to search out a private corner so he could call Zubov.

No sign of them yet, he learned. But it was early still. The service wouldn’t start for two hours.

Already, though, there was a beehive of activity backstage. Electricians were running one last check on the lighting and sound systems. A tiny woman in a long Hawaiian-looking garment was bustling about inspecting the floral arrangements on the stage and repositioning them.

People were trying not to stare at Gus, taking furtive glances or waiting until they thought he was looking elsewhere to study him. An item of curiosity. A man who wasn’t short enough to be a midget but definitely not normal-looking. It had been years since Gus had been around this many strangers. He had spent his entire life avoiding strangers. But today was a unique day. A day that marked a new beginning. He felt almost feverish in his excitement and wished that Amanda were here so he could embrace her and feel her cool hand on his forehead. Not that he could tell her why he was in this state of disquiet. Amanda had no idea what a special day this was.

His sister claimed that dressing rooms gave her claustrophobia. She did her own makeup and arrived minutes before it was time for her to walk onstage. Sometimes she arrived late, but no one ever got mad at Amanda. They probably just assumed that she was having a last few minutes with God in preparation for her words of praise and redemption.

Gus walked over to the curtain and peeked out into the sanctuary. Musicians were setting up their electronic equipment in the orchestra pit. Four seats in the middle of the front row were roped off. He hoped that there would be no need to use them, that Zubov and his team would have already apprehended Jamie and her boyfriend and be long gone before the service began. By the time Amanda walked onstage Jamie Long and Joe Brammer would be dead.

Early comers already occupied the rest of the seats in the first row. In fact, the lower half of the main floor was practically full, as were the front-row seats in the balcony.

God, he was nervous. He would like something alcoholic to drink but in lieu of that would settle for another Seven-Up. The vending machines were just around the corner, but he never carried money.

He called Zubov again.

Still no sign of Jamie, Joe, and the baby.

He went back to the dressing room and played with Buck for a while then fed him a bottle and jiggled him to sleep. Then he stepped outside the room to call Zubov again. The Russian reported that Marcia Kimball and her camera crew were roaming around the sanctuary talking to worshippers. But there was still no sign of Jamie Long and her baby and boyfriend.

Doubt was beginning to nag at Gus. Had he read Jamie and Joe’s actions all wrong? Maybe they had some other reason for being in Dallas.

Except that Joe’s former girlfriend Marcia Kimball was out there waiting to capture the meeting of Amanda and Jamie on camera.

A meeting that was never going to happen.

The orchestra began playing. Gus pulled the curtain aside and looked out front once again, scanning the faces in the crowd.

Zubov called to tell him that Amanda had arrived.

Gus watched as the choir members filed in and took their seats in the tiered choir stalls on either side of the stage and a robed minister with hair that looked as though it were made of plastic stepped into the golden pulpit under the heroic-sized and agonizingly graphic floating crucifix.

The curtain began to open as the voices of the choir boomed forth:

Love divine, all loves excelling,

joy of heaven, to earth come down,

fix in us thy humble dwelling,

all thy faithful mercies crown.

A spotlight illuminated the pulpit as it rose and floated over the stage until it was hovering over the orchestra pit. People in the first rows tilted their heads back and were looking up at the minister. His voice boomed forth, “This is a day the Lord hath made.”

Gus kept scanning the faces in the audience while the minister welcomed everyone to the Temple of Praise and said what an honor it was for the temple to welcome one of God’s most eloquent and beloved messengers, Sister Amanda Tutt Hartmann. The man gave a brief overview of Amanda’s incredible lineage and ministry. Then he offered a prayer in which he asked the Lord to open the hearts of all assembled and help them accept the message they would hear today and leave the temple praising His holy name.

Gus was beginning to feel ill. Where were they, damn it!

The choir sang another hymn.

Come, Thou almighty King,

Help us Thy Name to sing,

Help us to praise!

Father all glorious,

O’er all victorious,

Come and reign over us, Ancient of Days!

Then suddenly Amanda was walking out onstage. And the audience rose as one. The ovation was thunderous and reverberated all around Gus. The floor trembled under his feet.

As was her way, Amanda was dressed in a flowing white gown. She wore no jewelry. Her hair was down and brushed smooth and shining. Gus glanced up at the close-up of her face on one of the huge overhead screens. So beautiful she looked. Like an angel. His heart swelled painfully with pride and love.

Amanda smiled for a few minutes, seeming to enjoy the audience’s response. Then she lifted her arms, and in just a few seconds a hush came over the vast sanctuary. It was as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting to hear the first words that came out of her mouth.

Amanda put her hands over her heart. “I love you,” she said.

And the applause began again. Wave after wave of it. The audience was overjoyed that Amanda loved them.

Once again she lifted a hand and quiet fell. “I have a baby,” she said with a broad smile, her voice girlishly breathless. “Everyone said that I was too old to have a baby. My physician told me I was too old to have a baby. My body told me that I was too old. But God granted me a miracle after my beloved son died. I thank God a hundred times a day for the gift of this child, and I want to share him with you today.”

Once again applause began to erupt, but Amanda lifted her hand to stop it. “Applause might frighten him,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. “We named him Jason, which means ‘healer.’ We named him that because this beautiful child healed my broken heart and has taught me to live again, just as God intended.” Then Amanda gestured offstage to Randi, her arms outstretched, ready to receive her child. Gus was standing just behind Randi. Amanda’s eyebrows shot up in recognition and surprise.

Randi carried Buck to center stage amid a soft chorus of “ahhs” from the audience, placed the baby in Amanda’s arms, and backed away.

Gus watched as Amanda’s body seemed to stiffen just a bit. There was awkwardness in the way she held the child. She kissed the baby and offered a smile to the audience that was a bit too broad, a bit too dazzling. Gus held his breath as little Buck’s body tensed at the feel of unfamiliar arms-arms that were not as loving and tender as those to which he was accustomed.

Amanda held on to her forced smile as Buck began to wail, but her shoulders became rigid. The muscles in her neck grew taut as she lifted him to her shoulder and began to pat his back. But Buck’s back arched as his cry turned into a scream of protest.

Gus could see that his sister was beginning to panic. She was doing all the wrong things. Her disquiet was transferring itself to the baby. He wanted to rush out there and take Buck from her, or at least tell her to relax and talk soothingly to the child. And to jiggle him, for God’s sake. If Gus had learned one thing about babies in the last two months, it was the value of jiggling. And pacifiers helped. Amita didn’t respond to a pacifier, but Buck did. Buck could soothe himself if he had a pacifier. There was one dangling from a ribbon clipped to his shirt.