hand, her fingers already laced through his, and kissed it. “I know, right?”
“Whoever has, he will be given more, and will have an abundance.” Reggie laughed.
Gemma fidgeted in her seat. She reached for her coffee cup but bumped Jane’s pot de crème. “Oh, sorry!”
“Not a problem.” Jane watched Jake grab for his cup and miss as well. No one had noticed the slowly spinning table, though she thought they all knew the secret. But just in case, she didn’t mention it. “What have you two been up to these days?”
“Reggie is writing for Portland Tribune , and I’m still working for my dad.” Stacy missed her cup when she reached for it.
Jane chewed her lip. She needed to swing the conversation to Josiah Malachi, but…no. She could do this. She could play the chatty, gossipy coed, even if Stacy and Reggie knew that wasn’t how she normally was.
“What about you, Jake? Still flippin’ burgers?” Stacy asked.
“Yup.”
“You guys remember my cousin Gemma, right?”
“Prez Prep class of ’03?” Reggie asked.
“Yeah, but I only went there for junior and senior year, so I don’t know how you would know me!” Gemma held her coffee and eyed the table as she talked. “I was five years ahead of you kids.”
“But you were on the championship volleyball team. The only one ever,” Stacy said with a laugh. “You all will never be forgotten at Prez Prep.”
“Even benchwarmers like me, eh?”
“What do you do now? Still play?” Stacy now had her eye on the table as well. “That is so weird; I could have sworn…” She shook her head and didn’t finish the sentence.
“Gemma was at the Josiah Malachi event—the one where he died!” Jane spoke in breathless excitement, feigning innocent, gossipy conversation.
“No way! We were there, too.” Stacy leaned forward. “Where were you when he died, Gemma?”
Gemma set her cup down and fluttered her eyelashes. “I was on the stage.” Her voice was low and dramatic. Jane almost laughed.
“So was I!” Stacy shook her head sadly. “What about you, Reg? Where were you again?”
“I was up in the sound booth with Francine.” His lip curled in disgust when he said her name.
“Ooh, I met Francine,” Gemma said. “I met her in line to talk to the police. I mean, she worked for Josiah, so it must have been the same lady. But what were you doing in the sound booth?”
“I’m on the task force while they are in town. I help with techy stuff during events. Lucas—this guy that runs the showy stuff—had to step out, so Francine joined me.”
“So Francine wasn’t on the stage, or even near it, when Josiah died?” Jane asked.
“No, she was with me the whole time.” Again, Reggie looked disgusted.
“What’s wrong with this Francine chick?” Jake asked. “Every time you say her name, you look like you want to spit.”
“She’s not that bad.” Stacy stared at the table. “What is wrong with this table? Reggie, are you moving my stuff?”
Jake laughed.
“What?” Stacy turned to him.
“Oh, nothing. But Reggie doesn’t agree with you. He thinks Francine is that bad. Why? What did she do?”
“It’s nothing she did, really. Just her attitude. She’s not into it. I swear she’s just with the organization for the money, and that is so wrong. Josiah Malachi is about so much more than money. He’s changing the world.”
Jane swallowed her instant reaction to the irony. “Maybe she was just having an off night, or something like that.”
Reggie lifted his eyebrow. “A bad two months, more like. We’ve been getting ready for the Malachi Ministries to come to Portland for six months. And for the last two months Francine has been in town prepping the task force. I’ve never met a less spiritual woman in the ministry before. All business and no heart. ”
Stacy scrunched up her mouth. “Are you sure you aren’t just saying that because she’s a woman?”
“Don’t be a feminist, Stace.” Reggie took a drink