Secret Agent Minister by Lenora Worth Page B

her a sideways glance. “The devil would have his hands full with you, Lydia.”
    “I’d give him a run for his money, that’s for sure.”
    She liked the way he smiled at her. His smile made him look so young and carefree, the way he used to look before all of this, back when she thought he was just a kindly minister. “You seem in a better mood.”
    He sat down beside her, then stretched his jean-clad legs out over the stairs. “This place makes me feel safe.”
    “Me, too,” she admitted. “How long have you known Kissie?”
    “Since I attended seminary here in New Orleans. She was one of our special instructors.”
    “Get out? What did she teach you—the history of blues?”
    He laughed at that. “Kissie is a computer whiz. That’s her specialty. But you wouldn’t know it to look at her.”
    Lydia grinned at that. “Not your average professor type.”
    “No, not at all. She was one of the first people I met when I was…introduced into CHAIM.”
    Lydia was dying to hear the whole, long, drawn-out story, but she didn’t want to break the gentle truce of this quiet summer afternoon. Sitting here, she could almost believe they were just visiting New Orleans on vacation. But she did ask one burning question. “What if you’d said no to CHAIM? Would they have burned you at the stake or something?”
    “You have a vivid imagination.”
    “Just curious.”
    “No, nothing so bad. They would have let me get on with my life. And it would been as if—”
    “As if you’d never heard of them, right?”
    He touched his arm to hers, poking at her, a grin on his face. “You’re learning.”
    Lydia felt the burn of that playful touch all the way to her toes. It made her edgy and antsy, so she got up. “I need something to do. And don’t tell me there isn’t anything to do. I see all these people pretending to work around here, that is, while they keep watching me. It’s getting on my last nerve.”
    As if on cue, Kissie came bustling around the corner. “I got something for you to do, child.”
    “Great,” Lydia said, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “I can sort mail, make some calls, file some papers—”
    “No, no, honey,” Kissie said with a grin. “This is a special project. We’re gonna give you a good and proper makeover.”
    Lydia glanced from Kissie’s expectant face to Pastor Dev’s blank one. “I don’t want a makeover.”
    “You need a cover,” Kissie explained. “They know what you look like now, honey.”
    “How do you know that?”
    Pastor Dev got up, let out a sigh as if to say, Break time is over now. “We’ve received reports. CHAIM now has a dossier on you. And that means so do the bad guys, probably. We can’t take any chances.”
    Lydia slapped a hand against the newel post. “Well, that’s just lovely. How exciting for CHAIM—and the bad guys.” She’d have to record all of this in her diary immediately so she’d have her own report. “So, what now?”
    “Now,” Kissie said, a firm hand on Lydia’s arm, “we change your looks. Amy just got back with our ammunition.”
    Lydia held to the post. “I don’t want to change my looks. I like me the way I am, thank you. And I don’t need any ammunition.”
    Dev took her other arm. “Lydia, do this, please. For me. We have to blend in and look the part.”
    “What part?”
    “That of a very wealthy, happily married couple.”
    Lydia’s knees seemed to turn to mush. Holding tightly to the newel post, she glanced from Kissie to Pastor Dev. “You and me, you mean?”
    “You and me,” he said, a soft smile creaking across his face. “I need you to cooperate, please.”
    She could see the no-arguing look in his eyes, and she could certainly hear the commando mode in his words, but how could she resist the opportunity to pretend to be his wife, just for one night? Hiding her secret glee behind a show of agitation, she said, “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Just like I didn’t have a