Chapter 1
TOM FOSTER WAS torn between pleasure and annoyance after the last notes of his postlude ceased to echo around the stone and plaster walls of the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd. He was pleased that several members of the congregation had, as usual, come up to the organ console to tell him how much they’d enjoyed the music, and he truly enjoyed receiving feedback, favorable or unfavorable, on his playing and/or the choir’s singing. On the other hand, he was tired after a long week that had culminated in a hurried two-day trip to Philadelphia on Friday morning so that he could perform in concert Saturday evening and wanted nothing more than to go home and crash.
A quick trip to the frozen north in January wasn’t his favorite thing to do, and he was more than ready to go hom
