The Answering Service

By Corey Thorne

Megan Rennay is in a heap of trouble because she thought she was doing the right thing. A web of deceit is spun in the small town of Carsonburg through the good church members and anyone Megan comes into contact with. Lying and maintaining a low profile is a matter of survival for Megan and a way for her to pursue the study of healing.

She’s on her own until an unlikely married couple from church come by her apartment one evening, needing her help—the same two people who didn’t speak up in her defense when she was told to leave her church. Skeptical of their motives, at first, she then decides to help them.

Megan’s latest temp job is working at the answering service from six to midnight. It’s just she and the janitor. Thinking this will be the perfect place for her and the couple to meet without anyone finding out, the web of deceit spreads through the mysterious phone calls and one unidentifiable pager number.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Corey Thorne
• Release date: Feb 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463158470

Corey Thorne

Corey Thorne grew up in the mountains of Virginia and moved to the coast of North Carolina where she attended East Carolina University. She lives in eastern North Carolina with her husband and son. Her summers are spent writing and enjoying the beach.

Book preview

His religion meant more to him than God himself, and he spoke vehemently to anyone who questioned him, glaring right into the challenger’s eyes, cutting through to their soul. The preacher’s voice changed as he protected his religious customs. His blue-gray eyes glossed over with rage, turning bloodshot with a yellowish tint. His jaw was stiff and deliberate with the precision of his words. The anger in his face boiled under restrained rage, and Megan moved her hands to her chest, believing he would attack her if he knew he could get away with it. He glared at her, no longer resembling a man of God in words or manner.

It was only he and Megan in his church office. Mortified by his explosive response, she excused herself, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. The church secretary was temporarily away from her desk, a blessing for which Megan was thankful. If the elderly lady had heard the conversation, it would have hit the church gossip line in a matter of minutes like front-page news.

That preacher. That man of God. The eyes, Megan thought as she rushed to the side exit of the church. His body almost shook as he dared her to challenge him. Megan had never seen him this way, and she couldn’t get the image out of her mind.

***

Sean Rickward watched Megan leave his office, and when she was out of his sight, he flipped the brass lock hard on his office door. He needed time to collect himself and his thoughts. Straightening his tie, Sean checked his appearance in the mirror fastened to the inside of the wardrobe. Leaning toward the reflective glass, he realized his eyes were still faintly bloodshot from the anger that Megan Rennay had provoked. Glancing down at his hands, he held them out. They were trembling. He was the one who had attended seminary; furthermore, the traditions of the church were to be respected by everyone and uncompromised by no one.

***

Megan rushed through the empty corridor and down the stairs, grasping the handrail for support as the echo of her heels clicking on the concrete steps came faster and faster. Arriving at the foyer, she slapped the palms of her hands hard against the metal bar, shoving open the heavy side door. Frantically, she scanned the empty parking lot and rushed to her car. Everyone had left for Sunday lunch after church. Jerking down the visor mirror, she studied her face. It was red, and her cheeks were hot. Her visage was unrecognizable. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled the key into the ignition of her car. The straightforward question had nearly turned into a violent confrontation and not on her part. It was on the preacher’s, with his arrogant reply as he spewed his words within inches of her face.

Twenty minutes later she arrived at her apartment, hoping Brad wouldn’t be there. Once inside, she headed straight to her bedroom, only pausing briefly at Brad’s door to listen. The low hum of music playing indicated he was home.

Megan eased her bedroom door closed. She didn’t want to be around anyone else right now; besides, he wouldn’t understand. Flopping down on her bed, opening her computer, and clicking on the icon of one of her favorite Bible teachers, Megan zoned out. Needing to get her mind off of what had happened earlier, she scribbled down verses in her pink notebook as quickly as the teacher spoke them, adding more to the ones she already had.

At twenty-seven years old, Megan Rennay worked for a temp agency, lived with her former college roommate, Brad Treyton, and attended a church called The Worship. At the current time, she didn’t have a boyfriend, even though she was a pretty girl with wavy butterscotch-blonde hair and large hazel eyes. Her clear porcelain skin and high cheek-boned face made her exceptionally attractive. Brad, on the other hand, was shorter than she and skinny with a pale complexion and strikingly black hair, which remained uncombed most of the time.

Carsonburg University was where Megan had met Brad Treyton. They met their sophomore year of college and had remained close friends ever since. Only after they both graduated did they decide to get an apartment together in their college town, neither one wanting to move back to their hometowns.

Megan, are you in there? a muffled voice questioned from the other side of the door.

Sighing at the interruption, she closed her computer and slid the book under her pillow. Come in.

What took you so long to get home from church? Brad asked.

I was speaking with Pastor Rickward about healing, Megan clipped.

Oh. Brad slid his hands into his front pockets as he leaned against the door frame. What did he say?

He wasn’t interested in anything I had to say, Megan said, not wanting to get into it.

What’d you say?

It doesn’t matter now, she huffed. The awkward silence pervaded the room until Brad decided to leave. Retrieving her pink notebook from under her pillow, Megan flipped open her computer and continued with her studies.

Chapter 2

It was almost time for the church service to begin at The Worship. As Megan made her way through the congregation, she noticed the older members of the church giving her odd glances with their wrinkled faces and pursed lips. Brad was in line behind her as they searched for a place to sit. Suddenly, Pastor Rickward appeared out of nowhere. Megan, good to see you, he said, giving her a pleasant glance. The look was nothing like the one she’d experienced days before. Squeezing Brad’s shoulder, he gave him a friendly smile and a nod. Her mouth partially gaped, Megan wasn’t able to get the words out to say hello.

Pastor Sean Rickward was an impressionable man in looks and height with his six-foot frame. His short black hair had silver flecks in it, which complimented his close-set blue-gray eyes. He was in his forties and unmarried with no rush to find the right woman.

The organ music began, and people took their seats. Megan smoothed her skirt, making sure it covered her knees as she situated herself on the red-cushioned pew. The Worship was a sizeable nondenominational church with a membership of several hundred people—give or take. The diverse population made it appear modern, but on the inside, it wasn’t. A faction of members ran the church along with Pastor Rickward. Particular families had influence within the church, and they had been known to run off whoever didn’t believe the same way they did. Even though she wasn’t from the area and hadn’t seen it happen, Megan had heard the rumors. Many years back, before Pastor Rickward, a dynamic preacher came into the church. She was an unmarried woman with fresh ideas, and she brought renewed vigor to The Worship. Sunday school and church attendance had increased with fresh blood coming in—every church’s dream. This new preacher was on fire for the Lord, teaching directly from the Bible. Her mistake was that she stepped on a few toes, pointing out habits within the church that didn’t match up with the Bible—and that was all it took. The offended faction colluded behind the preacher’s back and forced her out of the church. Several church members, who weren’t generally involved in church business, plotted against her in every way, making her life unbearable. With no support from the passive members of the congregation, the disheartened preacher left.

Megan glanced at the program to see where they were in the service. Everyone had their heads tilted up, looking forward as the preacher took his place on the pulpit behind the ornate, dark-stained lectern. The choir, in their soft gold robes, sat in stadium-type seating behind the platform. The choir was one of the best in Carsonburg, and they could preach a sermon just by their singing alone.

Pastor Rickward began by asking who needed prayer. So many hands went up that Megan felt they would never get to the message. She, along with the rest of the congregation, listened patiently to the infinite recitations of health-related prayer requests. Throughout the sermon, Megan’s thoughts remained on all the sicknesses among the church members.

Finally, the benediction concluded, and people began making their way to the center aisle so that they could speak to the preacher on their way out. Those whose stomachs were growling went toward the side exits, avoiding the crowd altogether.

Brad, I’ll see you later. There’s someone I want to speak to. Megan waved goodbye as she maneuvered through the crowd.

Brad waved goodbye and continued his way down the center aisle among the mass of people.

Megan kept her eyes on the man who had been sitting a couple of pews in front of her. His prayer request was to keep him in their thoughts. The doctor had just put him on another medication, and it wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. Darting through the slow movers, Megan made it to the side exit. He was only a few paces ahead of her.

Sir, she called out, pushing her arm through the sleeve of her wool coat.

The man abruptly turned around. Yes?

I’m Megan Rennay. Smiling broadly, she held out her hand, and the man shook it.

Hello, I’m Henry, Henry Knoton. What can I do for you? The round-faced man smiled, forming creases in the corners of his eyes.

I heard your prayer request in church about your health, Megan said.

Henry shook his head out of frustration. I’ve had issues with my health lately. Can’t seem to get it under control.

That was her opportunity, and she took it. Mr. Knoton, the Bible says that no plague shall come near your dwelling.

What are you talking about? Henry pulled up the collar of his black winter coat, blocking the cold wind from his cheeks.

Healing scriptures, Megan explained. God wishes us to be healthy. He says so in the Bible. Mr. Knoton’s face contorted, and she felt her effort to help him dissipate.

Then why did he give me this problem? Henry asked, furrowing his brow.

He didn’t. Megan reached for the pink notebook in her purse. Let me show you.

Placating her with a response, Henry smiled again, forming those same creases in the corners of his eyes. I appreciate your concern, he said, patting her hand, and you have a good heart, but God’s in charge of everything. He’s sovereign. Pastor Rickward has preached on that many times.

Politely, Megan persisted. The Bible says God wants you well, so how can he put sickness on you? It’s a contradiction.

God’s in control, not me, he gently spoke again. Just then, a church member walked up. Megan stood by as the two men spoke briefly, exchanging usual pleasantries.

After his friend left, Henry fished his car keys out of his pocket. Thanks for your concern and have a good day. He got into his car and left. Megan watched him drive off as she stood in the church parking lot.

***

Henry Knoton was eating the lunch his wife had prepared when the phone rang. Hello, he said, finishing the last of his ham sandwich.

Henry, it’s Kappi Hanford. Kappi had been a member of The Worship for decades. He was a true bachelor, which probably accounted for his happy disposition. He was dark-complexioned with thinning hair and short stature. His plump figure came more from his age than from his diet. He ran the men’s Bible study group at The Worship.

Oh, hello, Henry managed. You caught me eating lunch.

Kappi chuckled. When I saw you in the parking lot earlier, I figured you were ready to get home and eat. It looked like that young woman was chewing your ear off.

Henry’s wife mouthed from the kitchen, Who’s that?

Holding his hand over the receiver, he whispered, Kappi Hanford.

What does he want? she whispered, drying the dish in her hand.

Irritated by his wife’s persistent nosiness, Henry waved her away. She was talking my ear off, Kappi. Her name’s Megan Rennay. She meant well but didn’t make much sense. I was relieved when you came up.

Oh, yeah? What do you mean? Kappi prodded for more information.

She was going on about healing.

You don’t say.

I set her straight on the issue, Henry bragged.

I wanted to let you know that you’re in my prayers, and I hope everything works out for you, Kappi said.

Thanks, and goodbye. After Henry hung up the phone, his wife insisted that he tell her the entire conversation verbatim.

Chapter 3

Sean annotated his sermon notes for the upcoming week. Myrtle! he bellowed to his nearly deaf church secretary. Will you bring me my sermon notes from last Sunday? There’s something I need to review.

Although she was advanced in years, Myrtle was still sharp. The only thing that slowed her down was her rotund figure from all the sweets in her desk drawer. She hurried into his office. Here you go, Pastor, she said, setting the file on his desk.

Thanks, Myrtle. What would I do without you?

Ignoring his remark, Myrtle spoke in a motherly fashion, pointing her finger at him. It’s time to go home. I’m leaving in a few minutes, and you should do the same.

Immersed in his work, Sean absently replied, Have a good day. After cross-referencing his notes, he modified his current sermon. The interruption of his office phone ringing stopped him. Pastor Rickward, he answered.

Pastor, it’s Kappi.

Tossing his pencil on the yellow notepad, Sean leaned back in his leather chair. Hello, Kappi. What can I do for you?

Clearing his throat first, Kappi said, There’s something that’s going on, and I think you should know about it.

Go ahead. What’s on your mind?

It’s about Megan Rennay. Kappi paused.

Sean felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. What is it, Kappi? Tell me.

She was talking to Henry Knoton. She caught up with him in the church parking lot after the service.

What specifically did she say?

Henry didn’t go into a lot of detail, but he said she told him that healing could take place in his body.

Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it, Sean said. Megan thinks she knows more than she does. I’ve dealt with her before on the matter.

I’ve always enjoyed your sermons, Pastor. It seems to me that she’s going against the Bible. Like you always say, God is sovereign, and sometimes he uses sickness in people’s lives.

Thanks for your support. It means a lot, Sean said. We’ve never had a church member do this kind of thing before.

Can’t say that I remember anyone either, and I’ve been at The Worship longer than you have. Well, I’ve kept you on the phone long enough. I know you’re a busy man.

One more thing, Kappi. Did Henry Knoton take her seriously? Sean asked.

I don’t believe so, Pastor. He thought it was humorous. We even had a little laugh about it. Kappi chuckled.

Thank you again. Goodbye. Sean hung up the phone. Rising from his chair, he walked over to the wardrobe. Grabbing his coat and keys, he left the church for the day. There was no need to get upset over it. If Henry didn’t take her seriously, then other members wouldn’t. He’d hear about it either way from the elders of the church if it happened again. Then they would have a meeting and decide what to do next.

***

Megan tidied up her apartment and gathered her belongings, setting them in the chair by the door. She had one call to make before leaving and it was to the temp agency. Even though she had Brad to share expenses with, her bank account was dwindling too quickly for her comfort.

Linda, it’s Megan.

Well, hello, Linda spoke in her usual cheerful manner. I know why you’re calling, and I was just about to call you.

Megan let out a sigh of relief. Does that mean what I think it does?

Yes. I have a company that needs someone to answer their phone—a receptionist of sorts. There are some other office duties, but I know you can handle them.

Thanks so much, Linda.

Don’t hang up yet. There’s more. Be there on Thursday morning at eight o’clock. I’d get there at seven-thirty if I were you. Linda recited the company address and phone number, ending their conversation with the particulars.

The temp agency that Megan worked for kept her employed for the most part. After college, it had been challenging to find the right job. Who knew a Bachelor of Science degree didn’t mean automatic employment? Plus, she didn’t want just any position, and the temporary agency allowed her the freedom to try out different companies. As long as Brad remained her roommate, temporary jobs would do just fine. Besides, he needed her as much as she needed him, especially since he’d decided to go back to college for an M.B.A. With his school schedule, part-time employment was his only option.

***

Satisfied that she would begin her temp job soon, Megan left her apartment and headed to the women’s Bible study group at The Worship.

Circling the church parking lot, Megan looked for Pastor Rickward’s car. Serendipity proved correct when it wasn’t there. However, being prudent, she parked her vehicle on the opposite side of the building away from the pastor’s parking space just in case.

Carrying her backpack with her pink notebook in it, Megan entered the church, taking the steps to the second floor of the building. She followed the faint sounds of female voices until they became louder. Peeking her head inside the brightly lit room, she saw rows of metal chairs in place and a large table to the right containing coffee and doughnuts. Upon entering, a few women stopped talking and glanced her way.

Finally, one of the women broke the silence and walked over to Megan. Welcome. What’s your name?

Hi, my name’s Megan.

Come in, Megan. Welcome to the women’s Bible study group. I’m Helen Brickby, and these are the girls, she said, waving her hand toward the ladies in an introductory fashion.

Hello, Megan replied. Do you all mind if I sit in?

Some of the women looked at one another, uncertain of what to say, until Helen spoke up. Of course not. Have a seat.

Helen made her way to the front of the room. All right girls, let’s get started. The members took their seats, and after a minute, the place quieted down. Are there any prayer requests?

Several hands went up. The sharing of various health problems controlled the room. Patiently, Megan waited for everyone to finish before raising her hand.

Yes, Megan. What’s your prayer request? Helen asked.

Megan stood up. Deciding to get straight to the point, she said, Did you all know there are healing scriptures in the Bible and that it’s not God’s will for you to be sick? Scowling whispers permeated the room as Megan began quoting scripture after scripture from her pink notebook.

God’s in control of everything, a gray-haired woman interrupted. When sickness comes, it’s God’s will. A bunch of women nodded vigorously, supporting their friend.

Someone else in the group added, God allows sickness in our lives to teach us a lesson, and he will work it out for good. God’s sovereign, and whatever happens is his will. The woman sat back down as whispers continued throughout the room.

Megan maintained her stance. If you believe that it’s God’s will for you to be sick, then why are all of you taking medication for your sickness, and why are you asking for prayer? You are going against God’s will by doing that. You just said it’s God’s will for you to be sick.

The room fell silent for a moment until Helen finally spoke up. Megan, I’m sure you mean well, but you’re wrong.

Megan persisted. If God controls everything, then he is allowing me to say what I’m saying. I couldn’t speak this if it weren’t God’s will.

As they realized the paradox, the women whispered to one another, shaking their heads. Holding up her hand, Helen took control of the room. I don’t think you know as much as you think you do. Furthermore, we don’t believe what you are claiming. We’ve been around a lot longer than you have. The Bible speaks of God being sovereign. We believe that bad or good, it all comes from God.

One of the other ladies stood up, adding, I’ve never heard the pastor preach what you’re saying. Two ladies stood beside their friend, nodding in agreement.

With all the contemptuous glares aimed at her, Megan gathered her backpack. Shaking her head in disbelief, she left the room.

As she descended the stairs, Megan kept a lookout for Pastor Rickward. He was the last person she needed to see. Pushing through the side exit door, Megan hurried to her car and started the engine.

A good drive would help her think. The day was overcast with gray clouds floating in the sky, and the air was cold. It was her kind of weather. Thirty minutes later, she was on a two-lane road in a rural area far outside of town. She passed by a farmhouse and a convenience mart with a gas station. The sound of her stomach growling made her slow her speed to look for a place to eat. She had a few bucks in her wallet, so why not treat