Chapter 1

Prologue

Mark curled his body close to the wall in an effort to hide the light coming from his phone. With one hand he punched in a number while he pressed his other hand to the wound in his side. Blood oozed between his fingers and he knew he wouldn’t remain conscious much longer. As his eyes began to close, scenes from his past raced through his mind and he wondered distractedly if this was what they meant by ‘your whole life flashing before your eyes as you died.’ 1

Twenty-seven, disgraced, defrocked, and with no skills that will get me hired as anything more than a waiter or a fast-food clerk. Yeah, life is good.

Mark considered his situation wryly as he arrived in New York City on a swelteringly hot summer afternoon.

The airport shuttle dropped him in front of a cheap residence hotel in midtown Manhattan. After checking in, since the elevator wasn’t working, he carried his three bags up two flights of stairs to his room. He was somewhat surprised to find it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. The room was longer than it was wide, with a single bed along one wall. An upholstered armchair sat across from it next to a reading lamp. A dresser with a small TV firmly attached to the wall above it was beside the chair. The closet fit between the dresser and the door. At the far end of the room was a window overlooking the street. Beside it, a narrow counter held a sink, microwave, and coffee maker. Beneath it was a small refrigerator. The bathroom was on the same wall as the bed and much to his surprise, it was clean.

“Though why I thought it wouldn’t be is beyond me,”he muttered with amusement.

He unpacked, hanging some of his clothes in the closet, putting the rest in the dresser. His toiletries went into the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink. With two of his bags emptied and stored at the bottom of the closet, he opened the third one. It contained his laptop and several books. The books ended up on top of the dresser with the exception of his Bible, which he laid on the nightstand beside the bed. It had been a gift from his grandfather and went with him everywhere. He pondered where the safest place would be to keep the laptop, finally opting not to worry about it. If someone broke in and wanted to steal it, so be it. It wasn’t as if there was anything particularly personal on it now. He’d removed all the information about his ex-parishioners and anything involving the church before he left town for the last time.

Finally feeling somewhat settled in—as much as was possible under the circumstances—he undressed, tossed his dirty clothes in the last bag, that he had put on top of the others, and went to take a much needed shower.

* * * *

An hour later, feeling refreshed and dressed in a pair of jeans and a light-weight shirt because of the heat, Mark set out to explore the neighborhood.

He discovered, walking west, that the hotel wasn’t far from Macy’s and Herald Square. That brought back memories of a movie he’d watched with his parents almost every Christmas until he’d left home.

There were several restaurants close by as well, but it didn’t take him long to figure out they were out of his price range if he wanted his money to last for more than a few weeks—or until he found a job—whichever came first. He did, however, decide to stop back the next day to see if any of them were hiring.

He finally found a fast-food place, ordered a sub to go, then headed back to the hotel. He was definitely feeling the effects of his trip and the heat, although with the sun low on the horizon, it was minimally cooler than it had been a couple of hours earlier.

As he walked, a steeple poking up above the buildings a block north drew him in that direction. He found the church it belonged to, realizing when he looked at the sign at the base of the steeple wall that it was one he’d heard of, the Church of the Incarnation. As have probably half the Episcopalians in the country because of the art it houses and the stained glass windows. Another thing for tomorrow’s to-do list, stop in and…He sighed deeply. I suspect introducing myself to the Rector isn’t an option any more, under the circumstances. He felt a vast emptiness as he studied the front of the church, turned, and hurried away. 2

“I’m sorry. We’re not hiring at the moment.”

That was the third time Mark heard those words in the last two hours. After thanking the man, he left the restaurant, telling himself not to get discouraged. “After all, I’ve been in the city for less than twenty-four hours. I shouldn’t expect miracles.”

Unfolding the list he’d made after going online, he crossed off the restaurant’s name and checked where he was heading next. He’d made it a point to avoid the higher-end ones, figuring if they were hiring they’d be looking for very experienced waiters.