Free The Wages of Sin by Nancy Allen

friends. An equal opportunity condemnation!”
    One man cheered, a few tittered and chuckled. But in large part, the congregation waited for the big finish.
    â€œOh, but the Supreme Court—­those black-­robed know-­it-­alls, who think they can rewrite the morals of our nation, say that homosexuals have the right. The right to marry. The right to sin with impunity. Well, friends, you know what my friend Mike Huckabee says about that. ‘The Supreme Court is not the Supreme Being!’ ”
    That was the punch line, and the churchgoers knew it. Those who were able to stand jumped to their feet, applauding. The elderly and infirm lifted their hands into the air.
    Elsie kept her seat, crossing her arms across her chest. Ashlock’s son, Burton, stood with the others. Ashlock turned to look at Elsie. With an apologetic shrug, he said, “My ex.”
    By the end of the ser­vice, she was fuming, conducting extensive, heated arguments in her head in which she took the Reverend Albertson down. When they filed out of the sanctuary, Ashlock tried to herd her toward the side exit, but Elsie was too fired up to make an easy escape.
    She waited in line with those who wanted to shake hands with Albertson and touch the hem of his garment. When her turn came, she ignored his outstretched hand.
    â€œJust want you to know,” she said, “I am in total agreement with the court’s decision in Obergefell v. Hodges .”
    Reverend Albertson gave her a blank look and didn’t respond. She thought she must have confused him by making reference to the case name.
    â€œThe Supreme Court case, declaring that same-­sex marriage is a Constitutional right. When the decision was announced, I said, ‘God Bless America!’ ”
    Albertson let his hand drop to his side. “You can’t pick and choose, ma’am. You believe or you don’t.”
    â€œYou want to know what I believe? I believe in individual freedom. And I believe that there are five ­people out of the nine on the court who are looking out for us.”
    Sadly, the preacher shook his head. “That’s the Lord’s job.” He reached out and took her hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “I hope you’ll be back. I think you have a lot to learn.”
    Elsie pulled free and walked out into the warm evening air, facing a scarlet sunset without seeing it. She was chastising herself for not getting the last word. When they reached Ashlock’s car, Burton got in while Ashlock held her back and spoke into her ear in a low voice. “I know you’re upset about the ser­vice. But I don’t want to go into it in front of Burton. This is the church his mother wants him to attend.”
    â€œHow can you tolerate having Burton under the influence of that preacher?”
    â€œIt’s part of the deal. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my boy with me.”
    â€œBut Albertson’s a homophobe. And an idiot. And I’ll bet whatever you want to put up—­he’s a misogynist.” Elsie pulled her purse onto her shoulder with a jerk. “I don’t give a damn what your ex-­wife wants. I am never darkening the door of this pit of snakes again. Never.”
    They got into the vehicle and Ashlock drove away from the church, his silent disapproval palpable.

 
    Chapter Thirteen
    Dodging the traffic on the town square on Monday afternoon, Elsie made her way across the street to the Barton City Police Department. She’d received an urgent text: the assistant attorney general had arrived, and they were meeting with Ashlock in his office.
    She dashed up the stairs, anxious to know whether she’d missed anything important. Bob Ashlock’s office door was closed. She paused a moment to tuck her hair behind her ears and make sure that her shirt was buttoned and her pants zipped.
    Then she opened the door. “Good afternoon!”
    Madeleine jerked in her