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our house unless I’ve worked with them for a long time and I know their character.”
    â€œWorked with them in jail, you mean!” Jonathan said. “Some of them are con artists. They’re going to show you whatever you want to see, if they know you’re the one who can get them a job and a place to live when they get out. But what if they’re not rehabilitated? What if it’s just an act?”
    â€œJonathan,” Thelma said, “those people are saved by the blood of Christ just like you were. Gus Hampton was a drug addict who stole to support his habit, and he’s been clean for five years.”
    â€œOnly because he’s been locked up, Thelma.” Jonathan shook his head and took a few steps away from her, then turned back. “Are you both telling me that you don’t even think it’s possible that someone could pull the wool over your eyes? That someone might pretend to have cleaned up his act just to get out of jail?”
    â€œWe have to have faith that God will work it all out, Jonathan,” Wayne said.
    Jonathan’s voice rose again. “What if there were clear signs that this guy was bad news? What would it take for you to throw him out?”
    â€œA lot.”
    â€œYour daughter’s rape? Her murder?”
    Thelma grabbed his shoulders and shook him, her eyes flashing lightning. “That will not happen, Jonathan. Do you think you love my daughter more than I do? I have seen that man on his knees, weeping his heart out over gratitude for Christ’s redemption,” she said. “We would no more throw him out than we would throw you out, Jonathan.”
    â€œI asked you a question,” he bit out. “What would it take?”
    Wayne finally stepped between them, as if he feared Thelma might hurt him. “Jonathan, we screen every applicant from the jail who wants to stay in our home very carefully. We don’t take all of them. They have to promise a lot of things to stay there. Hours a day of Bible study, a full-time, steady job, work around our house to keep things going, community service, church attendance. They’re basically under my thumb while they live there, and you know that I don’t let ’em off the hook. Not everybody wants to live by those rules, but Gus did. And he’s followed them to a T. He hasn’t done anything to deserve your accusations.”
    â€œSo Morgan doesn’t matter?”
    â€œOf course she matters,” Wayne bellowed. “If I had an inkling that any of our tenants was going to hurt either of my daughters, they’d be out in a minute.”
    Jonathan shook away from him and started to his boat. “I get it,” he said. “He’ll have to hurt somebody before you’ll throw him out.”
    â€œJonathan!” Wayne bellowed.
    Jonathan swung around. “You people are crazy!” he shouted, not caring anymore who heard. “You think you’re brave because you trust people—but you’re not brave, you’re reckless! And I hope to God that Morgan doesn’t have to pay for that!”
    He stepped into his boat—only then aware of the gaping tourists watching the drama unfold. He turned back to Thelma and Wayne. “We’re moving,” he said. “As soon as we can find another place to live, I’m taking my wife and we’re moving out.”
    â€œJonathan!” Thelma shouted. “Don’t say that. That’s her home.”
    â€œI mean it!” he yelled. “If you won’t do something about it, I will.”
    He had gone down into his boat’s galley then, and Thelma and Wayne had walked over to the warehouse church to lick their wounds.
    Jonathan had run that conversation through his mind at least five hundred times today, each time wishing it had turned out better. He should have tried to talk to them in private, should have stayed calm, should have included Morgan in the discussion. As