PK Detective Excerpt

So, I've been doing some editing on my Preacher Kid Detective book, and decided to share an excerpt. No, it's NOT fully edited yet, but here's a glimpse.

     I eased in the back door of the sanctuary, and cringed. They’d just finished the last song, and Dad was getting up to preach. I had done my best, and failed miserably. The last parent hadn’t picked up their kid till I knew I was going to be late. Really late. I had to walk by Dad’s office to get to the sanctuary, and although Rachael had cleaned it up pretty well, there was still a broken door, the remains of a dead mouse smeared on the floor, and a busted chair leaning against the desk.
        She’d taped paper over the holes in the glass, so hopefully no one would cut themselves on it, but the way I was feeling I was pretty sure I could cut myself on a gummy worm. Being a klutz was bad enough, but being a klutz, and having to walk in late was about the worst thing I could imagine.
         Dad looked straight at me, and raised one eyebrow slightly. He didn’t look mad, but as a pastor, and a retired Navy chaplain, I knew he wasn’t going to blow up in front of his entire congregation.
         “Let’s pray.” Sometimes, his voice sounds quiet and gentle, but this time, it sounded more like a drill sergeant’s command, and I cringed. He waited a moment before bowing his head, but as soon as he did, I headed for my pew. All the way up to the front row. Who ever thought of making the pastor’s family sit in the front row wasn’t thinking straight. Sometimes we have to walk in late because of late parents at Sunday School classes, and walking up the whole aisle to get to your seat is just wrong!
           I hurried up the side aisle, hoping to get to my pew before he finished praying.
         It would have been perfect, if Andy hadn’t been sitting on the outside of the pew. His eyes were closed, like a good kid’s, and he didn’t see me. He stretched out his legs just as I was trying to ease past him into the pew.
          My foot came down hard on his ankle, and I vaguely heard his gasp of pain as I tried to move my foot. He yanked his feet back, and I tried to move forward at the same time. Somehow, I hooked my foot on his ankle, and faceplanted in the carpet with a grunt. My elbow burned from the carpet, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
       “Amen.” Dad’s powerful voice didn’t comfort me.
        I reached up and held my head in my hands. This was the end. I was doomed to die. Would it be by stoning or humiliation? Or would Mrs. Nelson call the cops?
       A foot nudged me in the side. “You okay?” I heard a slight whisper.
       I glanced up. Andy stared at me with a frown. “Are you okay?” he whispered again. Though his lips barely moved.
       I bit down hard to keep back the laugh. Okay? At a time like this? Did I look okay? Did he think I normally sprawled in front of the church like this?
        Mom was sitting on the inside of the pew, near the center aisle, and Dad’s empty seat. I met her gaze and about died. What would she do to me when church was over and everyone was gone? Only last Sunday she had told me that if I got into one more shenanigan, she’d do something drastic to make sure I learned to behave.
         Mom motioned to the pew. “Get up,” she mouthed.
           I cringed. If everyone had their eyes shut when Dad was praying, then they didn’t know I was here. What would they think when I crawled off the floor and sat down in the pew like nothing was wrong?
        Did I look as bad as I felt? My hand flew to my neck. My tie! I’d left it and my suit in the Sunday School room. My rolled-up sleeves had children’s snot and tears on them, and I was sure my hair wasn’t much better.
          Swallowing hard, I turned my face towards the pulpit. If I was going to have to be seen, at least I didn’t have to see the people staring at me.




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