Thick blinds had fought aggressively to keep sunlight from shining into Maxwell’s hotel room and brightening his morning. He raised the blinds and let the light chase the darkness away. With a small effort from him, the fight was over quickly. Maxwell pondered his new reality a little longer and then got into gear. He’d developed a routine of getting to the hospital by 8:00 a.m. and making a day of it. He was particularly eager to get to the hospital today since Tyree still hadn’t awakened as of last night. Maybe one of those prayers on Pastor Harris’s chain would work. It was a long shot for Maxwell to consider remotely the possibility that a distant God could heal a sick little boy in Wilmington based on the requests of a bunch of strangers in Philly. Yet he was desperate enough to believe it might work. He couldn’t handle the alternative.
Maxwell wasn’t familiar with the traffic patterns on a Friday morning in Wilmington, Delaware. It was close to seven o’clock. She hadn’t asked, but Maxwell knew Christine was counting on seeing his face every morning. He wouldn’t be late. He’d hustle in case there was a slowdown along his four-mile stretch on I-95.
Fortunately, traffic wasn’t an issue. Maxwell arrived at the hospital a few minutes early. Since Tyree was in the ICU, only two visitors were allowed to see him at once. Maxwell went to the family’s central meeting spot in the waiting room and looked for his mother or father in order to get an update. He was surprised when he did not to see them there. He began worrying.
Christine darted into the room. “Maxwell, come quickly,” she shouted and tugged at his arm. She spoke so fast, it was difficult to understand her.
Maxwell’s heart beat rapidly, and sweat beads formed on his brow. He had to ask but didn’t want to know. “What is it, Christine?” Maxwell prepared as best he could for the bad news.
Tears began streaming down Christine’s cheeks.
Maxwell couldn’t take the ax hanging over his head any longer. “Is he gone?” Maxwell asked, suppressing his own tears.
“No, he’s awake and asking for you,” she said and paused long enough to hug her brother tightly around his neck.
“Oh, Christine, thank God,” Maxwell shouted before realizing what he was saying.
“I know. Can you believe it?” Christine grabbed Maxwell’s hand and briskly maneuvered him through the hallways, en route to Tyree’s room. “Yesterday he was in bad shape. Wait until you see him now.” Her tears transformed into glee as they approached the room situated across from the nurses’ station.
“Are Mom and Dad here?” he asked.
“Dad wasn’t feeling well last night. I sent them home, and I told them to sleep in this morning. I called them when Tyree woke up. They’re on the way.”
A pediatric nurse met them at the doorway to Tyree’s room.
“Is he still awake?” Christine asked.
“He most certainly is,” the nurse replied in a warm tone. “Talking and asking for food.”
Christine clasped her hand across her mouth as tears began flowing again.
“Considering his condition last night, this is nothing short of a miracle,” the nurse added. “Your family is very fortunate. That little guy in there must have a very special angel looking out for him.”
“I guess he does,” Maxwell replied, anxious to get inside the room.
The nurse pushed the door open. Christine and Maxwell rushed in.
“Uncle Max,” Tyree cried out.
Maxwell scooted to his nephew’s side. Tyree was trapped by tubes, a needle taped to his arm, and a plethora of machines. None of this dampened Maxwell’s enthusiasm. Tyree was alive, awake, and talking.
“You came,” Tyree said.
Maxwell was overcome. He couldn’t recall experiencing such raw emotion and that uncontrollable feeling of caring about the welfare of someone before himself. He figured this must be what true love felt like.
“Of course, I came,” Maxwell said and gently rubbed Tyree’s shoulder. “You’re my little man. Where else am I going to be if you need me?”
Tyree smiled. “Does that mean you’re going to visit more?”
Maxwell glanced at Christine and then back at Tyree. “It does,” Maxwell said, bending down closer to Tyree’s eye level. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to be here so much that you’ll get tired of seeing me. How about that?”
“No, I won’t,” Tyree replied as his joy oozed out. “Mommy, Uncle Max is going to come see me a lot now.”
“So I hear,” Christine said, giving Maxwell another look. “Does that make you happy?”
“Uh-huh, because we can play football and baseball and soccer. Oh, and basketball.” Tyree became very animated. He sat up in the bed and began making sports gestures.
Maxwell eased him back on the pillow. “We’ll see about basketball and soccer later. For now, let’s get you better and out of this hospital. Okay?”
“Okay,” Tyree responded, with a dramatic dip in his level of excitement.
Maxwell wasn’t bothered by his nephew’s disappointment about having to settle down. Once Tyree was at home, Maxwell would make it up to him.
Christine pulled Maxwell to the side. “You see he’s doing well. You can take a break and go home,” she said, gripping his wrist.
“Don’t worry about me. I can stay.”
“No, please go home and take care of your business. You’ve gone above and beyond. You deserve a break. Plus, if you stay, Tyree will want to talk, and he’s not ready for too much exertion.”
“You’re probably right.” There was some unfinished business waiting for him at the office that couldn’t be avoided. Perhaps it was time to go. “I’ll definitely be back tomorrow.”
Christine thanked her brother and hugged him again. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, anything.”
“Please thank Pastor Harris for coming down and praying with us. I know he helped us get a miracle.”
Maxwell stood motionless. He’d broken the basic rule of law: never agree to a deal without understanding the terms. There he stood, having agreed to do his sister a favor without first asking her what it entailed. Of course he hadn’t imagined that she would ask him to thank Pastor Harris. Why couldn’t she have asked him to do a simple task, like pay a hundred-thousand-dollar hospital bill or buy her a new house, something within his abilities? Instead, she had asked him to contact Pastor Harris, the man Maxwell was out to get, and to thank him for the contribution he’d made to Tyree’s recovery. Christine was oblivious to the gravity of her request.
“I’m going home, little man, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
Maxwell hesitated, understanding that by promising to see Tyree, he was also opening up a door to the rest of his family. It wasn’t a small feat. Despite the unpleasantness that might come with frequent family encounters, there was only one answer. “I promise.”
Chapter 57
The ride from Wilmington whizzed by, owing to the fact that Maxwell was in a state of euphoria. Tyree was going to recover. Maxwell didn’t care if it was the result of medical treatment, prayers, or well wishes. He was grateful for each contributing piece of the puzzle. That was why his mind drifted to Pastor Harris and Faith Temple. It would be simple to block out the pastor and return to business as usual, but Maxwell had promised to call Pastor Harris if and when Tyree’s condition improved. Maxwell hadn’t forgotten about his promise to Christine either. However, some promises were too difficult to keep. He was sure the pastor understood that.
Maxwell reached downtown Philadelphia and went straight to the office. He had a ton of work to shove into a ten hour day. He’d start with his top priority, the Faith Temple case.
“Good morning, Mr. Montgomery,” his assistant said, jumping up to greet him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. How’s your nephew?” she inquired.
“He’s awake and doing very well.” He was glad to share the good news.
“I’m glad to hear that. Thank goodness. I know how worried you’ve been.�
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Maxwell unlocked his private office. His assistant followed him inside.
“Now that you’re back, where do you want to start? You have phone messages, appointments to be rescheduled, stacks of mail, and a set of new client inquiries.”
“Let’s start with finding the best headhunting firm in the country. I’m going to hire two or three attorneys, and I want the best talent out there.”
“What about the mail and messages?”
“What about them?” Maxwell said, sitting in his high-back chair and dropping his key ring on the desk.
His assistant must have detected the annoyance in his voice. “Usually, you want me to keep you updated on the correspondence. I figured—”
Maxwell cut her off. “I’m sure you’ve done a great job with managing the office in my absence.” She appeared to relax slightly. “We’ll have a chance to catch up later. Right now, I’d like you to find Garrett and see if he can come in this morning.”
“Anything else?”
“Not for now.”
As his assistant was leaving, Maxwell called out to her. “By the way, I appreciate you holding the office together during my absence.” He rested his elbows on his desk. She seemed pleased with the compliment. “Expect to find a little extra in your paycheck.”
“Thanks, Mr. Montgomery, but I just did my job. The extra pay isn’t necessary.”
“Don’t let your pride get in the way. You earned the money. Take it.”
She thanked him again and closed the door on her way out.
Maxwell rubbed his chin. He was back in his office, his sanctuary. It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. Maxwell was about to pull out his box of memories but decided not to. He had at most ten hours before nightfall to get some serious work done.
His Faith Temple folder sat on top of his pile. He opened the folder and read some notes he’d taken last week. He glanced at a few articles criticizing his attack on the church and flung them to the side. Maxwell peeked at the tax documents and the background data Garrett had provided. Maxwell stared at the wealth of information. He was certain the makings of a civil case, and possibly a criminal case, lay among those pages. He’d built lucrative cases on much less. He didn’t have the famous “smoking gun,” that one piece of evidence Pastor Harris couldn’t refute. Maxwell wasn’t bothered. Smoking guns rarely existed with any case. He had over one hundred wins as proof, and only a few had ironclad evidence. Faith Temple was his for the taking.
Less than an hour passed, and there was a knock on the door. Maxwell closed the folder. “Come in.” He hadn’t expected to see Garrett so soon.
“Good to see you back. Your assistant gave me the news about your nephew. That’s great, man.” Garrett shook Maxwell’s hand and then took a seat.
“Yeah, you can imagine how relieved I am. That’s my little man, and he means the world to me.”
Garrett nodded.
“So, what were you up to while I was out?” Maxwell asked.
“What else? Working the Faith Temple case.”
“Where does it stand?”
“I can tell you up front that it’s not what you’d hoped to hear.”
“Try me.”
“Let’s start with Colita. As I told you on the phone, the seduction ploy flopped.”
“Is she gone?”
“Heck, yeah. I couldn’t wait to get her on the plane and out of town.”
Maxwell took a pen and flipped open the Faith Temple folder again. “What else?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, because it’s not a big deal, but Faith Temple had a brush with insider trading.”
Maxwell sat up. “Really?”
“Don’t get excited. Bottom line is the church used an investor who made some questionable investments. Apparently, the church wasn’t aware of the impropriety. Once they found out, the financial director sold off the questionable shares and reported their actions to the trade commission. They were cleared. End of story.”
“But you know the media can put a different spin on the story and paint this in another light,” Maxwell said.
“Maybe, but it would be grasping at straws. You tried that once with Layne, and what a disaster. There’s nothing there.”
“Then where does that leave us?”
“With no leads.”
“I hate to say it, but I agree.”
Garrett was puzzled by the response. “Sounds like you might finally be thinking rationally about this investigation.”
Maxwell’s neck stiffened. “I’m always rational,” he said, with an extra dab of bass so Garrett was certain to get the message.
“Okay. Then you’ll quit reaching for evidence that isn’t materializing?”
“Let’s be clear. There is always evidence. I can build a case against anybody. You know that I can.” He snickered. “If I wanted, I could build a case against you.”
“If you wanted to make up stuff, I guess you could.” Garrett stood. “I’m done, Maxwell. I’ve done too many dirty deeds for you.” He tossed his hands into the air. “I’m done with Faith Temple and Pastor Harris. That’s it, no more. The man is clean, and I’m not carrying the guilt of putting him in jail or worse. Did it once,” he said and approached Maxwell’s desk. Garrett slammed his fist on the Faith Temple folder. “I won’t do it again.”
Maxwell stood up to face Garrett. “You don’t have to.” He wiggled the folder from underneath his investigator’s fist. “This case is closed.”
“Say what?” Garrett said, pumping his fist into the palm of his other hand.
“It’s closed. I’m done too.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.”
Garrett pressed his knuckles against the desk and let his gaze plummet. “So, you think he’s clean too?”
“I don’t know if he’s completely clean. I can’t go that far.”
“Then I’m confused. Why are you willing to close the case?”
“Because I owe him, and I pay my debts.”
“I’m lost.”
Maxwell sighed and twirled the pen he was still holding between his fingers. Recounting the highs and lows of the past several days wasn’t pleasant. He’d spare Garrett the sorrowful moments and cut to the happy ending.
“Pastor Harris came down to the hospital and sat for three or four hours with my family while my nephew underwent his second surgery.”
“Really? Even with you investigating him?”
“Can you believe that?” Maxwell was humbled. “At first, I thought he was doing it as a way to suck up to me, hoping I’d give him a pass on the investigation.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
Maxwell shook his head. “Nope. Don’t think so. As much as I hate admitting it, Pastor Harris seems to be a decent guy.”
“What?”
“Yes, he just might be, and I owe him. He prayed for my nephew at the hospital, and then—check this out—he had fifty church members pray for Tyree around the clock.”
“That’s deep.”
“Who does that?” Maxwell scrunched up his face.
“You think those prayers helped your nephew get better? I mean, that would be a big claim.”
“I’m honestly not sure, but just in case, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and leaving him alone.”
Garrett roared with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Maxwell asked.
“You think we’ve found the first honest minister? And what if there are more out there?”
Maxwell chuckled lightly. “I hope this isn’t a trend, or I’ll be out of business.”
Garrett reached out to shake Maxwell’s hand. “On a serious note, you’re doing the right thing. I’m proud of you for taking the high road. It takes a real man to do this.”
“I’m making either a really smart move or a very dumb one. Either way, it’s done.”
“So, what are you going to do with the information we’ve collected?”
“Shred
it all. That way nothing will end up in the media or in a prosecutor’s hands. If I’m not going after Pastor Harris, nobody else is using my information to go after him.”
“Cool. I’m out.”
Before Garrett got to the door, Maxwell spoke again. “I know we’ve made mistakes that can’t be fixed, but hopefully, this will move us in the right direction.”
“It’s a good start,” Garrett replied. “You want me to let the pastor know you’re dropping the case?”
Maxwell stared at the Faith Temple folder. “No thanks. I owe him a call. I’ll do it myself.”
Garrett was almost through the doorway when he abruptly turned to Maxwell. “I forgot the other piece of information that I wanted to tell you.”
Maxwell couldn’t imagine what it was.
“Remember you asked me to check into the stalking thing?”
Maxwell’s curiosity rose and his heart beat rapidly. “What about it?”
“You, my friend, have a lot of enemies.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Maxwell was disappointed if that was all Garrett had to share. He was looking for a name.
“Wait now, this is good. Having enemies isn’t new for you, so why would you just now start getting threats? I figured this much attention had to do with the Greater Metropolitan case. Of course, Reverend Simmons was my first suspect.”
“No doubt. He was very angry at his sentencing. I can see him doing this, although it would take some effort, since he’s in prison for a long time.”
“Exactly. That’s why I got a list of relatives of Reverend Simmons and Bishop Jones, for starters. I cross-checked to see if any had records.”
Maxwell’s curiosity was piqued. “And what did you find?”
Redeemed Page 25
