Christy-Lynn was sickened to realize she was actually considering the proposal. “How do I know that’s the end of it, that you’ll just . . . go away?”

Ray smiled, exposing small, sharp teeth. “I’m a man of God, Mrs. Ludlow.”

It was Wade’s turn to react. He stepped past Christy-Lynn and grabbed Ray by the arm.

“Why don’t we finish this outside, Reverend?”

“Get your hands off me!”

Christy-Lynn took an abrupt step forward. “Wade, don’t!”

But Wade was already shoving the good reverend toward the door, his expression one of barely suppressed fury. If she didn’t step in, there was a good chance Ray was going to end up in an ambulance and Wade in the back of a police car. By the time she handed Iris off to Rhetta and caught up, Wade was already jerking the reverend down the steps and out into the yard.

Ray’s face was the color of a beetroot, his arms swinging wildly without landing a single blow. “You’ll end up in jail for this!”

To Christy-Lynn’s surprise, the very pregnant Mrs. Rawlings suddenly emerged from the family van, loping toward the fray as fast as her swollen belly would allow. “Let him be!” she bellowed sharply. “That’s a man of God you’re assaulting!”

But no one was listening. Nor were the words spewing from Ray’s mouth particularly godly as he continued to flail, spittle flying like a rabid dog as he tried to shake Wade’s hold. As far as Christy-Lynn could tell, Wade had yet to throw a punch, his intent to restrain rather than harm. She was almost disappointed.

Finally, Wade gave Ray’s arm one last vicious yank, releasing him so abruptly he nearly toppled over. “You’re a big man,” he said through gritted teeth as Ray stood wiping flecks of spit from his chin. “Big on threats. Big on bullying. So yes, by all means, let’s go to court. But I don’t think a custody battle was ever your intent. In fact, I think that’s the last thing you want. You see I’ve done a little homework, Reverend. There’s a rumor—though I’m betting it’s more than just a rumor—about a certain cheerleader from Riddlesville High School. Her name is Tina Gibson, a member of your congregation, I believe. Sings in the youth choir. Ring any bells?”

Ray dropped his arms, suddenly still.

Ellen took a step forward, a hand on her belly. “Ray?”

But Ray wasn’t looking at his wife. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s see if I do,” Wade responded coolly. “According to my source, Tina had to go away for several months last summer after a visit to a certain nurse over in Wheeler almost killed her—a visit you not only drove her to but allegedly paid for. I couldn’t verify that last part, but let’s run with it anyway, shall we?”

Christy-Lynn stood openmouthed, gaping at the drama unfolding before her. How on earth could he possibly know those things? And yet it was obvious he did know because Ray had gone a terrible shade of gray, as if all the blood had drained from his body. He stood glaring at Wade, half of his shirt untucked.

“It’s a lie!”

“Not according to Tina’s boyfriend. Doug Simpson, I believe his name was. Captain of the wrestling team and very angry with you apparently. He couldn’t wait to spill the details. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’d be willing to spill them to anyone who’ll listen—including a judge if you’re still inclined. But then, I’m betting you’re not. I’m no expert, but I don’t think there are a lot of judges who’d hand over a three-year-old girl to that kind of scum. I could be wrong though. Ball’s in your court.”

Ellen Rawlings hadn’t moved a muscle during the exchange, but there were twin spots of color on her cheeks now. In three long steps, she closed the distance between herself and her husband, clearly seething. “You said it wasn’t true. You swore!”

Ray rounded on his wife, fists knotted at his sides. “Shut up, Ellen!”

Wade was smiling now, but his eyes were hard, devoid of anything like humor. “Here’s the long and short of it, Ray. If you pursue this scheme of yours, if you so much as think about coming after that child or her money, or harassing your grandmother for so much as a penny from that trust, I’ll make sure every person in this town knows what you are. The cheerleader. The check fraud. The real estate scheme. All of it. And that’ll be the end of your precious congregation—and the collection plate that goes with it.”

Ray’s mouth worked mutely as he sawed at his tie. After a moment, he pivoted toward the van and stalked away, leaving his pregnant wife to trail after him.

Christy-Lynn held her breath until the van had pulled out of sight, then turned to look at Wade. “What just happened?”

“I think I’ve just gotten rid of the reverend for you.”

Christy-Lynn nodded, a blend of confusion and relief. “Yes, I got that part. But how did you know about the cheerleader?”

“Like I told Ray, I did some homework.”

“You made another call.”

“I had a hunch, and it turned out to be right. Man’s got quite a past if you talk to the right people. Even had a couple of arrests way back that I doubt his flock knows about. You were right. He was never going to court—not with his past—but he was banking on you not knowing that.”