Missionary Daddy by Linda Goodnight

aren’t. That’s a complication you don’t need at your age.”
    Gina looked at her, then looked away quickly, as if she wanted to open up but was too scared. Sam knew the feeling.
    “Have you been dieting?” She tried to sound casual, knowing how deceptive and secretive an anorexic could be.
    “I’m okay, Sam. Really. Stop worrying.” Gina spun away from the mirror and pasted on a smile. “See. I’m fine now. That greasy burger. That’s what did it.”
    Then Gina hurried out of the restroom, leaving Sam to follow. Someone who Gina knew and trusted needed to talk to her.
    “Obviously not me,” Sam muttered as she pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway.
    Wrestling with what to do, she saw Gina back with the group, laughing at Eric. Someone had stuck a child’s birthday hat on his head, complete with a rubber band indenting his chin, and he pretended not to notice. The sight of the big, strong man pounding nails while wearing a birthday hat made her laugh, too.
    Eric. The kids liked and trusted him. He was their leader here and knew the people of the church much better than she did. Maybe he’d know what to do about Gina.
    “Eric,” she said. “Could I talk to you in private?”
    He laid aside the hammer. “Sure.”
    “Oooh, Eric,” one of the boys teased. “She wants to talk in private.”
    Eric tossed the birthday hat at him. “Go paint something, Dylan.”
    The boy and his buddies laughed. Sam tried her best to ignore their not-so-subtle innuendo as she led the way out of the center into the warm August evening. When she was certain they were no longer in earshot, she rested her back against the brick wall and told him her concerns about Gina.
    Darkness had come and the pulse of cicadas served as musical backdrop to the quiet conversation.
    Eric listened intently, his face dimly visible by the security lights. “You think Gina has some kind of eating disorder?”
    “I do. And after she was sick a few minutes ago, I think my suspicion bears checking out.”
    “She looked okay to me. Did you ask her what was wrong?”
    “She said it was the greasy burger.”
    “Too much grease can make a person sick.”
    “Eric, haven’t you noticed how thin she is?”
    “You’re thin.”
    Sam didn’t go there. “I’ve always been thin.”
    “So has she.”
    Exasperated, she tried another angle. “A skinny teenager shouldn’t be counting the calories in a piece of watermelon. I heard her do that tonight.”
    “This is out of my league, Sam. But just because she’s thin and had an upset stomach is no reason to put ideas into her head about anorexia. Sometimes I wonder if that’s how stuff like this gets started.”
    “I’m not trying to put ideas into her head. She could already be in serious trouble.” She perched both hands on her hips and look skyward, scared to say too much but wanting him to realize the seriousness of her claim. “I’ve known models with eating disorders, Eric. I know what I’m talking about.”
    “Are you sure you’re not overreacting because of that?” Silhouetted against the building, hands shoved into his back pockets, he looked mysterious and attractive.
    Sam huffed out an annoyed sound. Why had she thought a man would understand?
    “I thought she might listen to you or that you might know a counselor or someone that could help. But apparently I was wrong. Excuse me for bothering you with this.”
    Feeling like a hysterical female, she shoved away from the wall and left him standing in the dark.

Chapter Five

    “A nyone involved with Tiny Blessings could potentially be in danger.”
    Ross Van Zandt tossed the latest edition of the Richmond Gazette onto Eric’s desk. Every inch a former New York cop, the private investigator’s usual wary expression was even more intense today.
    “If you’re worried about Kelly,” Eric said, “I’ll keep an eye out when she’s here.”
    He already did. With all the troubling undercurrents and two pregnant