Deadly justice, p.17
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       Deadly Justice, p.17

           Darrell Case

  "Blessed Assurance

  Jesus is mine

  Oh what a foretaste

  Of glory divine

  Air of salvation

  Purchased of God

  Borne of his spirit

  Washed in his blood

  This ..."

  “May I help you?” The voice was gentle, kind, not harsh and demanding. Caught up in her musing Allison started. She turned to face the gray haired man smiling at her. He appeared to be in his late 60's. He wore a long sleeved white shirt rolled up halfway to the elbow. His blue tie hung loose around a well proportioned neck. Sweat glistened on his forehead. The compassion in his eyes reminded her of Pastor Rick back home in Indiana.

  “I'm Pastor Milton, I'm sorry for startling you,” he extended a work worn hand. “I saw you standing here and wanted to invite you to worship with us.”

  “No, no, I'm sorry to have disturbed you,” Allison said hesitating then taking his hand. She was rewarded with a firm, warm handshake. “I just heard the singing, it reminded me of home.”

  Being a student of human nature Milton didn't pressure her about her past. “We'll be opening God's sword in just a few moments. You're certainly welcome to join us.”

  “I...I can't, I'm not dressed properly.’ Alison said painfully aware of her jogging shorts and t-tops. Why did she feel so nervous around this man? She had faced weapons of every variety with barely a twitch.

  “God isn't interested in your dress, young lady. He's concerned about you.” Still smiling he reached for the door handle. “Please come inside, the folks will be so glad to meet you.”

  “No, no, I couldn't. Thanks anyway,” Allison said stumbling down the steps. Turning she hurried along the sidewalk.

  “Come back anytime, you're always welcome.” The pastor called after her. Watching her jog down the sidewalk Milton prayed for her. The haunted look in Allison's eyes bothered him. He had seen the same look in the eyes of children in Vietnam.

  “Oh Lord, please put someone in her way to bring her to yourself,”

  Back in her apartment, Allison called information for Central Indiana. “What city please?”

  “Elm Grove for a McMilligan?”

  “I'm sorry; I have no listing for a McMilligan.”

  Chapter 12

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