Tricia Gleason rarely finds a situation where her hats remain in the closet. Yes, she could choose. Always her choice. She balks when anyone pushes her with a should-upon list. She gives new meaning to staying in the closet. Has nothing to do with sexual orientation; everything to do with function.
A preacher? Yes. A fishing guide? Yes. A detective solving homicides initially considered suicides? Unfortunately, yes.
But a new hat to wear? Not on her head, but in her heart. A hat for falling in love. No, nothing about falling and everything about jumping.
Complications, she knew, are never avoided. She starts a new church ministry in Tillamook. The previous minister committed suicide. She doesn’t think so. The church secretary disappears the week before Tricia gives her first sermon. A librarian defends against a self-pleasing minister before he grabs her. Not fake news. #METOO very real.
The romance/love hat is worn, but the closet empties of hats for preaching and fishing and detective sleuthing. She laughs about being a 3-hat person.
The laughter stops when the revolver is pressed to her forehead. She isn’t ready to not preach her second sermon, not take her lover fishing and other activities. But then she believes she doesn’t have a choice her tears won’t stop a bullet
