“Would you mind getting me some potato chips to go with my sandwich?” he asked totally out of sorts.
“Sure thing, Mr. Montgomery. You wait right there.” Off to the kitchen, she trotted.
Maxwell shot up from the sofa and fled to his office and shut the door. With his back pressed against it and his hand still holding the doorknob, the less than calm attorney gasped. He needed an escape. He had been certain no one saw him in the church parking lot the day of the funeral. His tinted car windows and dark shades hadn’t provided the anonymity he’d hoped to maintain.
“Your chips are on the table, next to your sandwich. I’ll see you next week,” the cleaning lady called out to him.
He did not respond. The house phone rang. Glad for the distraction, he hustled over to the desk and snagged the handset quickly. It didn’t even matter who was on the other end of the line.
“Son, it’s your mom.”
“Uh-huh.” He peered through the blinds and watched his cleaning lady get into the passenger seat of an early model Impala, which then drove away.
“Paul, are you there?”
“Yes. I’m just busy.”
“It’s Sunday. Don’t you ever rest?” his mother asked.
“Crime and hypocrisy don’t rest. Why should I?”
“Well, I won’t keep you long. I wanted to know if you will at least consider coming to a barbecue here at the house. Think about it before you say no. I really want you to come. Your father is feeling a little stronger. He has some good and bad days, but he’s been feeling pretty good lately. A family barbecue would be nice. Your dad needs his family around him.”
“Don’t beg him. If he doesn’t want to come, that’s fine. Just leave him alone, Ethel,” Maxwell heard his father’s stern voice say in the background.
“Beg me. He should be begging me for my forgiveness. Mom, I’ve got to go. I won’t be there. Tell Tyree I’ll see him soon.” He dropped the handset down onto the cradle, glad his father had given him a reason to decline the invitation.
He hurried up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. With a fierce determination, he peeled off his clothes, tossed them to the floor, and pulled on a pair of swim trunks. Down the stairs and straight to the swimming pool he went. Maxwell dived in and sliced into the water with his muscled, heavy arms. He swam twenty laps in the regulation size pool, hoping to shed the family problems that nagged him.
After the last lap, he emerged from the cool water like a drowning man desperate for air. He propped his arms on the side of the pool and sucked air into his lungs while water dripped down his face. If he weren’t the hard-core, “I don’t need anybody” type, the water dripping from his face could have been mistaken for tears.
Chapter 35
Almost finished, Pastor Harris headed out of the social hall and up two flights of stairs. His long legs took some steps two at a time. He checked out the computer learning center, the conference room, all four bathrooms, and the youth recreation room. His weekly assessment of the entire church was complete. The new tile in the social hall had been installed. The church was spotless and ready for Sunday service. When he was on the way to his office, that nagging thought popped into his head again. Maybe having Maxwell Montgomery checked out wasn’t a bad idea. What could it hurt? As he entered his study, his receptionist was preparing to leave.
“I’m heading out to lunch. Can I pick something up for you?” Martha asked.
“No, but thanks for asking.” He stopped at her desk.
“Okay, but you know I’ll have to tell the first lady. She gave me strict instructions to be sure you ate lunch.”
“I’ll grab something later, and I’ll tell my wife you’re on top of your assignment.” Pastor Harris rapped his knuckles on her desk with a grin before he went on his way.
Maxwell’s words followed him inside his study and wouldn’t go away. Everyone has something to hide. What could Maxwell Montgomery be hiding? There had to be a deep-seated wound that was causing him to lash out so viciously against the church. Perhaps if the pastor understood the underlying source of Maxwell’s anger, he could help him. It might be a long shot, but Pastor Harris was willing to proceed with finding an investigator. He sat down at his desk and swiveled his chair around to face the computer monitor. What criteria should he use to choose an investigator? His wife or someone on his staff usually did research for him, but this was something he had better take care of himself. Pecking with both index fingers, Pastor Harris punched private investigator into the search engine. Pages of results popped up on his screen. Then it hit him. Perhaps he should hire an investigator from another state. Maxwell Montgomery was very well known in Pennsylvania. With that in mind, he searched for investigators in Chicago. After reading through a few advertisements, he clicked on the ad that read, No one or their secrets can hide from us. That sounded like a good place to start. He grabbed the phone and dialed the number in the ad. If there was no answer by the fourth ring, he would hang up. One, two, three rings . . .
“Remington Investigation, how may I help you?”
Doubt crept in the moment someone answered the phone. Should he do it? Maybe he was completely off base.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
The pastor’s voice burst forth. “Yes, I’m here. I need some background information on someone. Can you help me?” His heel tapped against the floor rapidly.
“Sure we can. What’s your name, sir?”
“Pas—” He stopped. Maybe it was better not to use his title. “Renaldo Harris,” he stated.
“Who is the person you would like to have investigated?”
“Attorney Maxwell Montgomery. Have you heard of him?”
“No, but that won’t hinder us. What kind of information are you looking for?”
“Basic background information, I guess. Who is he? Where did he come from? Does he have an arrest record? I don’t know. You tell me. I just need to know as much about this man as possible.”
“Not a problem. Anything worth knowing about him, we’ll find it.”
The investigator took some information from Pastor Harris, asked him several questions, and explained how the investigation would work. They talked another few minutes, and the pastor rattled off his credit card number before ending the call. He picked up an ink pen from the desk and tapped it against his lips. This investigation idea would probably turn out to be a waste of time and money. Certainly an attorney as smart and as hard-hitting as Maxwell Montgomery would have a squeaky clean background, with no surprises.
The inquisitive pastor wrote the name Maxwell Montgomery on a blank sheet of paper and circled it. He traced the circle several times, making it darker and darker. What if the investigation actually turned up something? Wouldn’t it be interesting if he got a glimpse of the man behind the attorney’s title? He dropped the pen on the paper. A heavy knock at the door stole his attention.
“Come in,” he spat out while simultaneously sliding the paper with Maxwell’s name on it underneath his Bible.
A short man dressed in a suit and carrying a package entered the office. “Hey, Pastor. Your receptionist wasn’t at her desk. So I signed for your package.”
“Thanks, Minister Townsend.” He took the package and placed it next to his computer monitor.
“Pastor, do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Sure. Have a seat. What’s on your mind?”
The young minister unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped down in the plush chair in front of Pastor Harris’s desk. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, fidgeting. The man placed his glasses back on his face and made visual contact with the pastor. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but all this stuff in the news about you and the church being investigated by that attorney, Maxwell Montgomery, is a real mess.” He rubbed his palms together fast and felt the heat between them.
“What are you trying to say?” the pastor inquired.
“I know I’ve only been here a couple of yea
rs. I’d hoped to become one of your senior ministers eventually.” He took his glasses off again and, staring at the floor, stammered, “I’m n-not sure being here right now is the best thing for me.” Minister Townsend slipped his hand inside his suit jacket and pulled out a long white envelope. He stood and placed it in the center of the desk.
Pastor Harris scooped up the blank envelope. “What is this?” he inquired after turning it over and noticing it was sealed.
“It’s my resignation. I really hate to do this, but I don’t see any other option. Every church that Montgomery guy goes after gets shut down. The leadership ends up paying stiff fines and going to prison. I just don’t want to risk that happening to me.”
The stunned pastor slowly rose from his chair, still holding the envelope. “Do you think that I’ve done something illegal that would cause that to happen to our church or to our leaders?”
“No, Pastor Harris, I don’t, not at all. You’re a good man, and you’ve been a good leader for this church.”
“Then why would you resign?” He dropped the envelope on top of his Bible and moved to the front of the desk and sat on the edge. “Sit down, please. If you don’t believe I’ve done anything wrong, why would you leave the church?”
The minister took a seat. His attention darted from the pastor, to the certificates on the wall—the pastor’s ministerial license, his Ph.D. in theology, and his master’s degree in psychology—and then back to the pastor. “You’ve done so much with your life, and you’ve helped so many people. That’s the kind of minister I want to be. I’m just not sure that being innocent is enough to keep that attorney from bringing this ministry down and me right along with it.” His gaze fell away, and he hung his head.
Pastor Harris went to him and rested his hand on his left shoulder. “Listen to me, son.”
Minister Townsend darted from his seat. “Please, Pastor. This is hard for me, but I have to leave. I found out two weeks ago that my wife and I are expecting our first baby. She’s worried about me going to prison. I can’t have her upset and stressed out about this. We’ve talked about it, and I believe leaving is the best thing for me and my family. I’m sorry.”
A quiet swept over the room and lingered briefly. Pastor Harris inhaled a silent breath and gave words to his heart. “I understand,” he said, fuming inside. “Congratulations to you and your wife. Your first child is a very special gift from God.” He offered the minster a firm handshake and a pat on his shoulder. “You are a good man yourself, Minister Townsend. I will keep you and your family in my prayers. I know you’ll be fine wherever you end up.”
The minister grabbed Pastor Harris, hugged him, and hurried from the study without another word. Pastor Harris’s gaze was glued to the door after it shut. He stood motionless for several moments. Then he stared at the section of the wall that showcased his degrees. He briefly considered each one. Afterward, he retreated to his desk and dropped down into his chair with a thump. Pastor Harris slammed his fist against the desk as he glanced back up at the closed door. This thing with Maxwell Montgomery was out of control.
The pastor had done nothing wrong, and neither had anyone on his staff. Yet Maxwell’s vicious pursuit of him and Faith Temple had begun to result in casualties. His head whipped to the left side of his desk, where his Bible rested. He lifted it and snatched from underneath it the sheet of paper with Maxwell’s name on it. He’d made the right decision in launching an investigation. That brought a brief sense of satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough. He was delusional or misguided in thinking Maxwell was going to give him a fair fight. If Pastor Harris was going to stand firm against the attack, there was only one path he could take to ensure victory.
He clutched the Bible and dropped to his knees. “My Lord,” he cried out. “Not my will, but yours, be done.”
Chapter 36
Pleased to put the solitude of Sunday behind him, Maxwell welcomed Monday and the bustle it had to offer. His morning had been occupied with court appearances for two clients. On the elevator ride up to his office, he thought again about Nicole’s fiancé. He’d better call the investigator. Friday had come and gone, and he hadn’t received the background report. He stopped at his assistant’s desk to collect his messages.
“The phones have been ringing nonstop today. Here are your messages. The first five need your attention right away. This was hand delivered for you.” She handed her boss the stack of messages and the large sealed package. “The man was very specific that I should give it to no one but you, which is ridiculous. Who else did he think I would give it to?” She snickered.
“Thanks, and please hold my calls for the next half an hour,” he told her.
“No problem.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the phone rang.
Maxwell hustled into his office and plopped down onto the corner of his desk. He ripped into the adhesive seal on the package to find a smaller sealed manila envelope labeled JAMES WASHINGTON.
The eager attorney tore into it, careful not to rip the contents. He began to devour the several-page document intently. When he turned the third page, Maxwell sprang from his desk and hungrily digested the last page. He stared at it for a few seconds and then flung the document behind him and onto the floor. With the heel of his right hand, he pressed against his knuckles. His bones popped loudly. He did the same with his left hand. His laser-like gaze burned into the phone on his desk. How could Nicole not know all about the man she was about to marry? The information wasn’t hard to come by. Why hadn’t Nicole learned all that she could before committing to having children with this guy? Maxwell clenched both his fists so hard, he felt his pulse throbbing in his fingers. What was next? He had to calm himself in order to think clearly.
He eased the cell phone from his belt clip. No way around it. He had to make the call to Nicole. The ugly truth would have to be told. Three rings and she was there.
“Hey, I know it’s the middle of your workday, but I need to talk with you. It’s pretty important. Can you get away for about an hour?” he said.
“What’s going on? Are you sick?”
“It’s nothing like that. We just need to talk. Can you meet me in Love Park? I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Make it thirty, and I’ll see you there.”
The short drive didn’t make the necessary conversation any easier to have. Maxwell parked and climbed out of his car. Time was up. Nicole walked toward him, and he still didn’t have the words to break her heart.
“Okay, Mr. Montgomery, what is so important that you summoned me from my air-conditioned office on this blisteringly hot day?” She tilted her head down and looked over the top of her sunglasses at him and smiled. “So, spill the beans. What’s going on?” She sat down next to Maxwell on a bench.
“You know me. I don’t like to beat around the bush. There is something I think you need to know about your fiancé.”
“You’ve never met my fiancé. What could you possibly know about him that I don’t already know?”
“When you want to know something, you just have to ask the right questions.” Maxwell removed his shades and placed them in his shirt pocket.
“What is it? What are you trying to say?” She crossed her legs and swung her arm over the back of the bench.
“You told me that your fiancé doesn’t want to have children. Did he ever tell you why?”
“We talked about it briefly. Something about the way he grew up and he just wants to enjoy being married without the responsibility of raising a child. Why?”
“That’s not quite the truth.”
“Really, for someone who doesn’t like beating around the bush, you are wearing the bush down. Spit out whatever it is you’re trying to say.”
He placed his palm on her hand gently. “He was married, and he has an eight-year-old daughter. He divorced his wife after five years of marriage. He filed under irreconcilable differences. Apparently, marriage and children weren’t for him, and he refused to be trapped.”<
br />
She snatched her hand away from his touch and pushed her shades onto the top of her head. “What? That’s ridiculous. You don’t know James. Who told you those lies?”
“There’s more. He was arrested a couple of times for domestic violence. He broke his wife’s arm.”
“Are you serious? That can’t be right. I know him. He’s not that kind of man. You must have him mixed up with someone else.” She tapped her foot rapidly and chewed at her bottom lip.
“Nicole, I had him investigated. I don’t have him mixed up. He lied to you.”
“And you couldn’t wait to tell me.”
“You need to know who he really is. He’s not the kind of guy you want to marry.”
She shot up from her seat and knocked her purse off the bench. “Why would you have him investigated? I didn’t ask you to do that.” Her voice trembled. “If I thought it needed to be done, I could have hired an investigator myself.” She spoke louder and waved her hand frantically in Maxwell’s face. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe anything you just said. You’re lying, and I don’t know why.”
He shifted his eyes from left to right, hoping people weren’t paying attention to them. “It’s true, every word of it. I wouldn’t have told you if it weren’t true. I had him investigated because I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Care about me? Don’t want to see me hurt? Seriously, you mean like you hurt me?” Nicole’s voice got louder.
Maxwell knew people could hear them by now.
“So, what is it? You didn’t want me, but you don’t want to see me happy with anyone else? What is wrong with you, Maxwell? You have your ways, but I never thought you’d go this far.”
He stood and stepped closer to her. “You know—”
She stepped back and jerked her purse up from the ground. “I don’t want to hear it, Maxwell. Mind your own business. You have enough issues of your own. Handle your life and let me handle mine. Go back to doing what you do best—which is working around the clock. And while you’re at it, I suggest you get a better investigator.”
Redeemed Page 16
