Redeemed:
Redeemed Series Book 2
Patricia Haley & Gracie Hill
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Redeemed is also available as an eBook
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Reading Guide
Acknowledgments
Authors’ Note
UC HIS GLORY BOOK CLUB!
What We Believe:
Copyright Page
Redeemed is also available as an eBook
Redeemed Series
Relentless
Redeemed
Also by Patricia Haley
No Regrets
Still Waters
Blind Faith
Nobody’s Perfect
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
Mitchell Family Drama Series
(Listed in story-line order)
Anointed
Betrayed
Chosen
Destined
Broken
Humbled
Unforgiving
Also by Gracie Hill
Where the Brothers At?
Sorrows of the Heart
The Kitchen Beautician
Saved, Sanctified and Keeping My Secret
Patricia Haley
I dedicate Redeemed to my loving grandparents and
to those of my husband, Jeffrey Glass. We’re blessed
to have grown up with grandparents who believed
in family, integrity, hard work, discipline, and faith
in God. They left a wonderful legacy and laid a solid
foundation, which I hope to emulate.
Clifton, Sr. and Mary Ballard Tennin
Will and Jennie Watts Haley
Eldridge and Geneva Moorman
Reuben and Mary Logan Glass
Gracie Hill
I dedicate this book to my mother, Pauline Warren. She
was a strong woman who loved her children and gave
each of us a wonderful sense of family and showered
us with love. The greatest gift she gave me was the
knowledge of Jesus Christ. She would be overjoyed to
know that the seed she planted in my life about the love
of God has manifested into the salvation in my life.
I care very little if I am judged . . . by any
human court....
My conscience is clear, but that
does not make me innocent.
—1 Corinthians 4:3–4
Chapter 1
Activity inside the law firm, nestled in the heart of downtown Philadelphia, was often hectic, but today it seemed manageable.
“Make no mistake about it, he’s a snake, just like the rest of them,” Maxwell Montgomery declared as he reared back in his favorite chair, comfortably situated in his private office.
Garrett, his lead private investigator, didn’t respond immediately.
Maxwell carried on with his tirade. “You know I’m telling the truth.” The infamous civil attorney leapt to his feet and approached Garrett, who was sitting across the room. “Name one honest preacher that you know.” Not allowing Garrett ample time for a response, Maxwell continued. “See? You can’t think of one, not a single one,” he said, pointing at Garrett and bursting into a flurry of laughter. “Not one.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Because you know I’m right,” he said, throwing a right jab into the air. “A bunch of self-righteous, money-grubbing, power-hungry hypocrites, every one of them.” Maxwell sailed back to his chair in an animated fashion. “When you think about it, I shouldn’t complain. They’ve all been good to me.”
“How?” Garrett asked, seeming confused.
“Heck, look at this.” He tapped on a stack of files on his desk. “Case after case, they’ve made me a boatload of cash,” he said, rubbing his index finger and thumb together briskly.
Garrett’s head tilted to the side, and his lips tightened. “Can’t deny that.”
“I know you can’t. Man, these cats are a gold mine. Uncovering their sin is as easy as taking candy from a baby. I have more work than I can handle, going after these weasels.” He plopped into his seat and began tossing a foam stress ball into the air. “Some of these cases blow my mind. Remember the priest in Allentown who secretly had three sets of children and wouldn’t agree to pay child support for any of them?”
“I remember. One mother was a nursing student who was struggling to stay in school.”
“Yeah, and he wouldn’t pay her the measly five hundred dollars a month that she needed,” Maxwell said.
Garrett leaned forward and rubbed his head. “I bet if he could do it all over again, he’d gladly pay the five hundred. Heck, he’d probably be willing to pay five thousand a month.”
“I bet he would too, because once I found out about his other two sets of children, who he’d conveniently hidden from the archdiocese, paying that skimpy child support was the least of his worries. Staying out of prison for messing around with a seventeen-year-old girl took precedence.”
“And the church wasn’t too happy about the kind of publicity you were threatening to send their way.”
“That’s right.” Maxwell chuckled. “I did put some heat on them.” He spun a little bit in his chair. “I love my job, and what’s great about it is that there are plenty more creeps out there begging for me to come after them. Take Bishop Jones. He practically dared me to bring him down, and that whole cast of characters at Greater Metropolitan Church.”
Satisfaction washed over Maxwell as he recalled the case. He’d practiced law for fifteen years, and every single day throughout his career, Maxwell had dreamed of bringing down the mighty bishop Ellis Jones, the man who’d single-handedly destroyed the Montgomery household. Nearly three decades ago, his parents had been a cog in the mighty preacher’s wheel of deceit. The mere memory used to be painful and would ignite extreme disdain in Maxwell, but that was before the bishop was sent to prison last year. Now Maxwell reveled in the bishop’s predicament. Jones had lost his church, his freedom, and most importantly, his reputation.
Maxwell’s parents had suffered a similar fa
te when they blindly served as loyal church members under the pastor. Little did they know back then that their senior pastor was running a get-rich-quick scheme, which ultimately sucked money from the congregation. Instead of Jones taking responsibility when the scheme was exposed, he let Deacon Paul Montgomery, Sr., and the church secretary, Ethel Montgomery, take the fall. They paid a high price. Besides losing their house and their money, Maxwell and his sister were left orphaned when their parents had to spend time in prison for fraud, while Jones spent every night with his family. Worst of all, as soon as Maxwell was old enough, he left home, intent on never returning. So far he’d been very successful with not having to interact with his family in person, except on extremely rare occasions. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been as successful with avoiding their periodic calls, which had become more frequent since his father had a heart attack last summer. The situation wasn’t ideal but necessary. Knowing that Bishop Jones was experiencing his own form of family separation was beyond comforting. For Maxwell, it was justice.
He squished the ball extra hard, feeling vindicated. “They all got exactly what they deserved. They’re locked up in hell.”
Garrett eased to the edge of his seat as his gaze plummeted to the floor. “Everybody, including Deacon Burton?”
Maxwell’s adrenaline careened through his body. He sent a searing stare in Garrett’s direction. “Yes, Deacon Burton too,” he said with such a jagged edge to his voice that it seemed to slice the air.
“If you say so.”
Garrett’s reply didn’t give Maxwell the validation that he would have appreciated, but it wasn’t required. He was at peace with the outcome. Maxwell had taken down a despicable clergyman who’d gotten away with so much for so long that he deserved a lifetime behind bars. If his staff was guilty by association, so be it. There were no regrets. Neither Garrett nor a band of church runners was going to change Maxwell’s mind. He pulled up to his desk and extracted a folder from the top of the pile.
“I can’t waste any more time on Greater Metropolitan. That case is done, and there’s a whole lot more work for us to do, which brings me to Faith Temple and Pastor Renaldo Harris.” His serious tone switched to a lighthearted one. With his thumb up, Maxwell extended his index finger and let his hand slowly rotate forward as he curled his other fingers inward, turning his hand into an imaginary gun. “The so-called mighty man is the next one in my crosshairs.” He shut his right eye and drew his imaginary pistol hand closer. “Pow, pow, and that will be the end of him.”
“I’m not so sure it’s going to be that easy,” Garrett replied. “I’ve been investigating this man and his ministry for seven months, and I haven’t found a single shred of impropriety.” Garrett scratched his head. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but we might have found an honest pastor in the Philly area.”
“Pu-lease! You can believe that he’s hiding something. You’re just not looking in the right places.” Maxwell grimaced. “What’s got you spooked?”
“I’m being careful, unlike you, who’s turning this thing into something personal.”
“Personal?” Maxwell responded in a slightly elevated voice. “This is business. Always has been, always will be,” was the lie Maxwell uttered. Garrett grunted, but Maxwell wasn’t dissuaded. He hurriedly shifted the conversation away from himself. “Usually, you’re on top of your game, but looks like you’re slipping, my man.”
“One of us is slipping,” Garrett said and got up to leave.
Before Garrett reached the door, Maxwell asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
The investigator froze, slid his hand into his pocket, and turned slowly.
“Well, do you have it?” Maxwell asked with slightly more force behind his words.
“Yeah, I have it.”
“Then what are you waiting on?” he said, beckoning for Garrett to approach the desk.
Garrett pulled a business card from his pocket. “I’m not sure this guy is legitimate. I haven’t gotten a chance to check him out yet. Give me a few days, and I’ll run the background check.”
He must be crazy, Maxwell thought as he kept beckoning for Garrett to come closer. Months of no credible leads, and Garrett expected him to wait around for a ridiculous background check. Maxwell was looking for a whistle-blower from Faith Temple Church, not a credible employee. He grabbed the card. “We’ll check him out and see where this goes.”
“There’s always a clown out there seeking their fifteen minutes of fame. Don’t get duped by a liar,” Garrett commented.
“I’m not worried,” Maxwell replied as he toyed with the card. “Besides, I can live with a liar, so long as they can hold up under intense cross-examination in the courtroom.”
“So, basically, you don’t care about the truth?”
“Truth . . . Now, I guess that depends on whose truth you’re talking about.” Maxwell grinned. He didn’t fault Garrett for being naive. Maxwell had handled enough cases to know that sometimes the truth needed a nudge, and he was precisely the man to do the nudging. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he added, eager to end the meeting.
As soon as his office was empty, Maxwell called his administrative assistant. “I need you to drop everything and get a meeting set up with a potential client this afternoon.” He stared at the business card before him. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll give you Mr. Layne’s number.”
“Your schedule is pretty full this afternoon, all the way until seven thirty.”
He pinched his lips and made his expectations clear. “This is top priority. Make it happen. Move my meetings around if you have to. Just get this guy into my office this afternoon.”
“But—”
Maxwell cut her off and said, “Do you hear me? Get it done, no excuses. If he’s alive, I want him in my office. Send a limo, a paycheck, whatever is required to get him here. Do you understand?” He said it in a way that must have enabled her to process the information accurately, because his assistant didn’t offer any other resistance. Good for her, because Maxwell was growing weary of paying people who weren’t getting the job done. Betrayals weren’t to be tolerated in his world. He hadn’t allowed it from his own parents during his childhood in Chester, Pennsylvania. Twenty-some years later and nothing had changed, which suited him just fine.
Chapter 2
Noon had come and gone. As 5:00 p.m. approached, Maxwell emerged from a conference room, with a young lady and an older woman on his heels, as his assistant stood nearby, poised to interrupt.
“Don’t you worry one bit,” Maxwell told the women as he shook the older one’s hand. The younger woman was wiping her eyes with a tissue and sniffling. “I’ve seen this more times than I care to admit. Your granddaughter is not at fault, and I’ll see to it that the church administrator pays handsomely. He won’t do this to anyone else. I can promise you that,” Maxwell said, with bravado oozing. “Dry your eyes, young lady. You did the right thing in coming forward. I’ll take care of this.”
His assistant came a few steps closer but didn’t interrupt.
“We trust you, Mr. Montgomery,” the grandmother said, grabbing Maxwell’s hand. “At first we didn’t want to say anything, because I don’t feel quite right taking the church to court.”
Maxwell was used to his clients being reluctant to expose failures in the religious community. Some had even stated that suing the church and clergymen was the same as suing God. Maxwell didn’t agree, but it wouldn’t make a difference if he did. He wasn’t particularly interested in suing God, but Maxwell wasn’t running away from the challenge, either. With his assistant anxiously waiting to give him an update about his next meeting, Maxwell had to cut his wrap-up short.
“Trust me, you’re doing the right thing. Wrong is wrong, and your church leaders should know that better than anyone. I’ll be in touch next week,” he said, shaking their hands hastily and ushering them to the door.
Once they left, Maxwell’s assistant rushed toward him. “Mr. Lay
ne is in your office.”
“What? How long has he been waiting?” Maxwell asked, briskly walking toward his private office.
“About twenty minutes,” she answered, keeping stride with him.
“I told you this was top priority. You should have told me twenty minutes ago that he was here,” Maxwell muttered, lowering his voice to barely a whisper before he got to his office.
“I didn’t want to disturb your other meeting,” she stated timidly.
About a foot from his door, Maxwell faced her directly. “When I tell you something is a top priority, that means everything else comes second. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she said as her gaze dipped.
“Good, because if you want to keep your job here, you need to be clear on how I work and what I expect.” He placed his hand on the doorknob. “Are we clear?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Hold all my calls and cancel my remaining appointments.” The assistant nodded in affirmation. “Oh, and, uh, unless the building is burning down, don’t interrupt me, period.”
“I understand.”
As Maxwell turned the knob, he turned on his convincing appeal, determined to capitalize on the potential plaintiff sitting in his office. “Mr. Layne, thanks for taking time to meet with me,” Maxwell said as he closed the door.
The guy rose for the greeting.
“Sit, sit,” Maxwell said in a jovial fashion as he took a seat too. “I hope you didn’t have to take too much time from work to meet with me.”
“Oh no. I haven’t worked in almost two years, not since I left Faith Temple.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and the lady who called me from your office said there was a hundred dollars in it for me if I could come in today. Is that true?”
Maxwell hadn’t been made aware of the payment by his assistant but had no problem with her tactics. As a matter of fact, he’d applaud her tenacity later. “Uh, yes, of course,” he stammered. “Cash or check?”
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