Double Minds by Terri Blackstock Page B

cross her over.”
    She had his attention now. “Are you kidding me? That’s great!”
    “Not so great,” she said. “They want her to tone down all the songs on her new album.”
    “The songs you wrote.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And what does ‘tone down’ mean?”
    “Just what you think it means. Take out the Christianity and make them love songs. She’s all gung ho about giving Standard what he wants, lock, stock, and barrel. The musical tracks won’t have to be changed. Just the lyrics and vocals.”
    “No hill for a climber.”
    She sighed. “I don’t know. It goes against my grain to make my songs superficial.” She went back to the kitchen to make him another sandwich. “I want them to make people think of God, not some fictitious boyfriend out there in Billboard land.”
    “Are you crazy? What good is it to have all these great songs if nobody ever gets to hear them? You could make so much money, Parker. Your songs are great. This could be your ticket.”
    She stared at him over the counter. “You think I should do it?”
    “It’s a no-brainer, Sis. Why wouldn’t you do it? You could buy a bigger place.”
    “So I’d have a room for you?”
    He ignored the barb. “You could travel. You’ve never even been out of the country.”
    “Yes, I have. I went to Mexico on a mission trip.”
    He got up and came back to the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. “Parker, you can’t say no to this. It’s not like you’re going to hit it big performing. Songwriting is your gift.”
    That stung, and Parker tried not to wince.
    “Take this time off and hammer out those lyrics. It’ll open all sorts of doors for you. I can see the charts now. Serene won’t just have the number-one spot. She’ll have five or six spots. And people will hear about Parker James, the songwriter. You’ll be in huge demand. Other artists will start begging you to write for them. Big ones. This is your chance, Parker. Do it.”
    She went back to making another sandwich.
    “Parker, look at me,” Gibson said.
    She looked up grudgingly, aware that her face was burning.
    “I know you’re trying to honor God. That’s important. But God doesn’t only call us to do things in Christian arenas. I’m not a Christian cop. I’m a cop who’s a Christian. I don’t just solve Christian murders.”
    She grinned. “Okay, I get your point.”
    “I’m just saying, no matter how big and famous you get, you don’t have to write anything you don’t want to write. You can let your Christian influence shine in your life and all you do. And the songs you perform can still be Christian songs.”
    She swallowed the urge to ask him why she’d perform at all if, in his opinion, she wasn’t going to hit it big. But she didn’t like sounding bitter. “But if I give her the songs, the original lyrics that I thought God gave me will be dead. I can’t perform them. Who would want them if Serene’s made the other ones famous? Those songs started out as acts of worship, Gibson.”
    “Hey, would God open doors that he doesn’t want you to go through?”
    “Maybe it’s not God opening the door.”
    “And maybe it is. Just consider it, okay? Don’t slam the door shut without at least peeking through.”
    She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so to shut Gibson up, she promised to give it more thought.
    But later, when her phone began to ring, she didn’t even check the caller ID. She decided to ignore it. It was probably Serene, and she didn’t have an answer for her yet.

CHAPTER
    TEN
    The funeral was on Saturday at Two Rivers Baptist Church, which was packed to the gills with celebrity mourners. Parker and her brothers, who’d gotten there early, found a seat in the middle of the sanctuary. Gibson had come to get a look at the mourners, thinking the killer might show up, but LesPaul, her younger brother, came because he knew Brenna. LesPaul was one of Colgate’s most in-demand studio musicians, as well as