Free Unspoken by Dee Henderson Page A

partnering with companies donating goods. Some of the micro-loan programs that work with individuals directly can use a few hundred dollars to expand a business that will help support a family.”
    “Give me a list.”
    He glanced over at her.
    “I’d like to give some of his money to churches and religious charities, but I don’t know how to evaluate who does a good job and who doesn’t. So do me a favor and help me out. Give me a list.”
    “Okay, I could do that. How much?”
    She thought about it, then shook her head. “No. I’m not going to tell you how much. I’d like you to give me one piece of paper, your best ideas and the amounts you would give. If I can give to everything on your list, I will. Otherwise I’ll ask you to prioritize and scale back what is on the page until it fits what I want to give.”
    “You might be surprised at the list.”
    “Probably not. I bet you’re as cautious with my money as you are with your own.”
    “I like to give.”
    “Really?”
    “I am cautious about spending money, but giving it away? I figure God gives it back again eventually. Either in more cash or simply in things that don’t go wrong in life that would have needed that cash. I give, God makes life work out. That seems like a fair deal to me.”
    “Ever tested that?”
    “Every time I put a gift in the offering plate.” He glanced over at her. “Generosity is a good thing. So is grace like you offered to your brother-in-law.”
    “Don’t make it sound like I’m nice, Bishop. If I could buy my sister out of her troubles I would spend the money in a heartbeat. The problem with gambling—money is the problem, not the solution. I’m sure Tabitha’s right, and I just made matters worse.”
    “You did it with good intentions.”
    “I’ve done a lot of things with good intentions and most have badly messed up my own life.”

    The interstate sign for upcoming exits listed Lincoln, Madison, Route 4, Graham Enterprises. It was Bryce’s first clue something bigger than he had pictured was up ahead. Semitrucks began to pass him on the right, and one came in behind him, filling his rearview mirror. “Charlotte.”
    He looked over to make sure she was awake. She’d stopped working after the last stop and closed her eyes. “I want Exit 9?”
    She sat up, looked around. “Yes.”
    He took the exit and in the rearview mirror counted five semis with turn signals blinking, slowing for the same exit.
    A fifteen-foot-high fence paralleled the four-lane road. All Bryce could see on the other side of the fence were rolling man-made berms with neatly mowed grass. The posted speed limit was twenty-five mph, and he understood why as the road widened from four lanes to eight. They had arrived at Graham Enterprises’ main gate. Semis were slow-rolling through the entrance lanes, and two were on their way out.
    “Stay in the left lane going north,” Charlotte said, pointing. “We’ll use Gate C and bypass the truck traffic.”
    Bishop nodded and followed the van making the same choice. He kept his speed down, expecting to see Gate C coming up ahead, but there was only more high fence paralleling the road. Charlotte opened her briefcase, pulled out her planner. Bryce began to see the occasional warehouse on his right when the berms were low enough.
    Five miles on the road going north and Charlotte was still flipping pages and occasionally marking items off. “This is a big place,” he mentioned.
    She smiled but didn’t look up. “ Huge is the word you’re looking for.”
    “This is all Graham Enterprises?”
    She slipped the pen into the cover of the planner. “My grandfather’s family acquired the military base when it closed back in the fifties and doubled the footprint of Graham Enterprises. We don’t use all the land for warehouses.”
    “I’m relieved to hear it,” he said dryly.
    She laughed and pointed. “Gate C is coming up on your right. Follow the rock drive past the parking lot for the