As he made his way down the long, busy stretch of hallway, a familiar person came into view. With hair that swept across her shoulders, her tall body, curvy hips, and confident stride spoke her name as she walked toward him. As her full lips, smooth skin, and pearl-white smile came clearly into view, he saw what seemed to be a childlike excitement wash over her face. She was just a few feet away. He clutched the handle of his briefcase tighter and felt his pulse throb in his hand. Seconds later, he and Nicole were standing within arm’s reach.
“Maxwell, it’s good to see you. Where else would you be but in the courthouse? Still the busiest man in town, huh?”
Maxwell broke the awkward pause that followed by hugging Nicole loosely. She didn’t hug him back very tightly, but he wasn’t bothered. “It’s good seeing you. You look wonderful.”
She spun around, completing a full circle. She placed one hand on her hip, and the other she brushed gently down her side, accentuating her small waist and her slightly wider hip. “See what you missed out on.” Her face blossomed. She nodded toward the briefcase and flashed a smirk at him. “Glad to see you got some use out of the briefcase I gave you. I guess you didn’t destroy everything associated with our relationship.”
Maxwell dropped his gaze down to the flap on the leather briefcase and stroked the solid gold initials M.M. “I get plenty of compliments on this briefcase.”
Nicole stepped closer and tugged at his perfectly placed tie. “Since you’re headed to court, we can’t have your tie out of place.” Only silence spoke for a few seconds. Nicole retreated backward a couple of steps and lifted her wrist to check the time on her Cartier watch.
The ring on her left hand sparkled with prisms of color as it taunted Maxwell. The question leaped from his mouth. “You’re married?”
“Engaged.” Nicole lifted her hand and spread her wiggling fingers. The sparkling four-carat diamond, with sapphire baguettes raining down on both sides of the band, confirmed her statement. She shifted the ring on her finger, making sure it was positioned just right, as a wide, closed-mouth smile deepened the dimples in her cheeks.
His gaze bounced from her eyes to the large screaming diamond and then back again. He cleared his throat, initially not sure how to react. “Are you happy?” was the only complete sentence Maxwell could manage.
“Yes. Very.”
“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” Maxwell uttered, not sure if he meant the words or if he was jealous or simply shocked.
“Thanks. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, no. I’m pretty busy. I have several cases in progress, and I don’t have time for much else.”
Her smile faded away. “Nothing has changed for you,” she said. “I hate to hear that.”
Again, silence attempted to take control. Maxwell stepped back into character. He was smooth, in control, and he kept his first love as his top priority. “I better get going. I can’t be late to court.”
“Of course not.” Nicole leaned in close and embraced him.
With only one arm, he hugged her, stealing a hint of her perfume. Quickly, his arm fell away from her and was back at his side, where it belonged.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Goodbye, Maxwell.”
He stepped away first. No need to linger. His footsteps came to an abrupt halt as the urge to turn around and watch her walk away became too great. She was gorgeous, successful, and intelligent. If she hadn’t become so needy last year and hadn’t demanded more of a commitment than he could give, then maybe they would still be together. Nicole turned the corner and was out of sight, but Maxwell couldn’t shake her scent. He felt a tinge of loss.
Dang. Why did she have to mess everything up? They’d had a good thing going for several years, with both of them placing their careers first. Then, all of a sudden, their casual, “no ties” relationship wasn’t enough for her. She wanted love, kids, and a life together. That was crazy, Maxwell figured. What would he have done with a wife, kids, and a dog? Why would she think he could take time away from his top priority and feel good about himself? He turned and walked in the opposite direction from the one in which she’d gone. Twenty more steps gave him time to force feelings about Nicole out of his head. He pulled at one of the double doors and walked into the courtroom, a domain that always welcomed him.
A little over an hour later Maxwell emerged from the courthouse and became increasingly agitated. He hustled to his car in the parking garage, unable to force Nicole out of his mind. The drive back to his office took much longer than usual due to unexpected traffic. He tried playing music and listening to the news. Neither distracted him from Nicole.
Twenty minutes later, he parked his car, and made his way through the lobby of his building and got on the elevator. Engaged! He shut his eyes and shook his head, but only briefly. Maxwell refused to relinquish his power to a failed past. He had become an expert at doing that very thing and began regaining confidence in the way he handled his personal life.
Once he was securely behind the closed doors of his office, he booted images of Nicole out of his head, planted himself in the chair behind his desk, and got busy. He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a file. His gaze fell on the second drawer of his desk. He removed his keys from his pants pocket and stared at the drawer for a few seconds. No sense looking backward. He tossed the keys on top of the desk and revived his mission.
After he plotted the path for his case and made a phone call to the state’s attorney, his concentration deserted him again. Nicole’s words sang out in his mind. Nothing has changed. It wasn’t long before he surrendered to the magnetic pull of the locked drawer in his desk. Before he could change his mind, his key was in the lock. The drawer inched open, and there it was. A lonely box covered with dust occupied the dark, cryptic space. Maxwell placed the box on top of his desk and brushed the dust from it with his hand. He lifted the lid, opening a tomb of wounds that he’d kept nearby for years. He emptied the contents of the box. Pictures, letters, unopened envelopes, greeting cards, and papers were sprawled across his desk.
A frayed picture that was over thirty years old and had begun to fade dared to face him. The four people in the picture wore smiles and held hands as they stood close to each other. They were a family then, and now they were strangers. He didn’t know Paul Montgomery, Jr., anymore. He’d left that kid behind years ago, after running away from home his senior year of high school.
He sifted through the other items, which represented his past. There were unopened birthday and Christmas cards, along with letters that had been mailed to his office over the years. Why would anyone keep mailing things to someone who never replied? That just didn’t make a lot of sense to him. He picked up several items and examined the postmarks. Then he raked up the bitter past and began shoving it back into the silent hiding place. The last item he held was a picture of Nicole. The picture spoke to him. He could hear the sadness in her voice and the words she’d said to him when she walked out of his life. We’re not traveling the same path. We don’t want the same things. A knock at the door freed him from the grip of dead feelings and a life that no longer existed.
“Just a minute,” he called out. Maxwell dropped the picture into the box, slammed the lid on, buried the box back in the desk drawer, and then locked it. Now he was ready. “Come in.”
His assistant opened the door and entered the room, talking. “You have an offsite meeting with Garrett in an hour and a half. Here’s today’s mail. The stack on the left needs your immediate attention,” she announced, placing two stacks on his desk. “Would you like me to order you some lunch?”
His gaze shot down to the locked drawer in his desk and then dashed back to her. “No. I don’t have an appetite. I have too much to do.” He paused and then continued. “Can you call Faith Temple and see if Pastor Harris is available this afternoon.”
“If he is do you want me to schedule a meeting?”
He stared up at th
e ceiling for a moment. “No, don’t set up a meeting. Just let me know if he’s free. Thanks.”
Chapter 29
The fire burning within began consuming Maxwell to the point of desperation. He couldn’t think clearly when it came to Faith Temple and his desire to destroy the church. He was willing to try just about anything. Maxwell sat in his car, behind his dark shades, ready and waiting for the opportunity to have a few minutes alone with the receptionist in Pastor Harris’s office. It had been relatively easy to get a peek at her computer before, when he was waiting to meet with the pastor. Maxwell was disappointed to have gotten only one name during his initial visit. If he could get the woman away from her computer again, there was no telling what information he might uncover.
He looked down at his watch and tapped his finger on its crystal face. Wasn’t Pastor Harris ever going to leave the church? When Maxwell’s assistant had called earlier, she’d been told that Pastor Harris had appointments outside the church the entire afternoon. Maxwell didn’t want to sit there all day, waiting for Pastor Harris to leave. Since it appeared that the pastor was going to be late caring for the blind and the lame, maybe Maxwell needed to do something drastic to get his behind moving. Maxwell could have someone call and say the pastor’s house was being broken into to get him to leave. He was willing to try anything to get the pastor away from that church long enough for him to work his charm again.
Maxwell removed his shades for a clear view of the man walking toward the car parked in the stall close to the church’s entrance. Yep, that was him. It was about time. The attorney posing temporarily as a spy was parked on a hill across the street. It was unlikely that the pastor would see him as he drove off. Still, Maxwell hid behind his shades again and slumped down in his seat.
He peered over the steering wheel and watched the tail end of Pastor Harris’s Volvo exit the parking lot. He waited five minutes, then drove over to the church parking lot, reviewed his plan in his head, and stepped lively to the front door. He followed the once traveled path to the main office. If the same woman was there, he’d have a decent chance. Hopefully, the pastor didn’t have more than one woman working in his office. Maxwell cleared his throat, shifted the knot in his tie, and stepped into character just as he walked through the office doorway.
His bright greeting, which showcased his expensive dental work, was his first smooth step in dazzling her with his charm. “Good afternoon,” Maxwell said, discreetly reading the nameplate on her desk. “It’s Martha, right?”
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery. How are you today?” She stood to greet him.
“Any chance I could speak with Pastor Harris?”
“No, sorry. He had an outside appointment.”
Maxwell snapped his fingers in disappointment. “Oh, that’s too bad. I had hoped to maybe bribe him with some lunch so we could finish our conversation from the other day. I should have guessed that he was out. I guess that means no shouting voices today.” Maxwell pointed at Pastor Harris’s study door and released a lighthearted chuckle.
Martha chuckled with him. “Would you like for me to check his calendar and try to fit you in this week?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
She sat down at her desk, and with a couple of key strokes, Pastor Harris’s calendar was in sight.
Maxwell stood in front of her desk, with his hand poking the side of his leg and his eyes scrutinizing the papers on her desk.
A young man’s voice blasted into the room from the hallway. “Miss Martha, can you please unlock the gym? I need to get the floor cleaned.”
“Yes. Give me a couple of minutes. Let me take care of Mr. Montgomery first.”
“Oh, no problem. I can wait. We wouldn’t want to hinder anyone who is anxious to get to work.” Maxwell nodded his head at the young man.
“All right. Have a seat, Mr. Montgomery,” Martha replied.
The patient attorney unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down in the armchair behind him.
Martha pulled a large ring of jingling keys from her desk drawer. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him.
The clicking of Martha’s heels was music to Maxwell’s ears. Those noisy shoes would serve as an alarm to alert him when she was on her way back. He rubbed his palms together and shot out of the chair like a rocket and landed at her desk. He was relieved she hadn’t locked her computer. She probably didn’t know how. He searched through the pastor’s calendar since it was already open. He froze for a couple of seconds, as if a snake had crossed his path, when he saw several dates marked with appointments with Deacon Burton’s wife. Maybe Pastor Harris was providing more than grief counseling. Maxwell wasn’t sure if there was something to probe there. He couldn’t find any details about the reason for Pastor Harris’s appointments with the widow. He could easily speculate but opted to search for substantial evidence. So, he ignored the visits made to Mrs. Burton and scanned through the various folder titles.
Bingo. This could be something. He clicked on the folder labeled “budget.” He craned his neck to the right and looked toward the open door. No clicking heels sounded in the hallway. He’d better be quick, though. The folder opened, and there was a string of files for him to choose. Scanning the list, he stopped at benevolence fund and pastor’s salary. Both options made him lick his lips. Maxwell chose the file marked pastor’s salary. Before he could bite into the information and the numbers in front of him, someone gave him a harsh reprimand.
“Hey, just what do you think you’re doing? Get away from that computer right now.” Pastor Harris’s voice rumbled with his fury. His eyeballs bulged out like bright headlights as he stormed toward the intruder.
Maxwell stumbled back and dropped into the chair as he scurried to get out of Pastor Harris’s path. Pastor Harris pivoted the computer monitor so that it faced him. Dollars signs, his last year’s salary details, and tithing records jumped off the monitor at him. Maxwell managed to get out of the chair and slide to the end of the desk. Pastor Harris shifted the monitor so that it faced Maxwell, and pointed at the numbers on the screen.
“I guess this is the information you were searching for up in the cloud somewhere, right? I suppose your next statement is that you were just helping to download it.”
Maxwell straightened his tie and met the pastor’s gaze straight on. “Actually, I was just—”
“I don’t want to hear your lies. You were snooping into private, confidential records.” The pastor pressed the power button, forcing darkness to overtake the monitor. “Aren’t you sworn to uphold the law, or does your license give you special privileges to break the law? What’s the word you like to use so much? Hypocrite?” Pastor Harris leaned across the desk, getting in Maxwell’s face, and shouted, “Get your nickel-slick, con-artist behind out of this office. You were probably up to no good when you were here the other day, and I found you behind Martha’s desk. Get out of here right now, before I call the police,” he shouted.
“Police.” Maxwell gave a hearty laugh. “You’ll be calling an attorney when I’m done with you.” He slid up closer to the edge of the desk and leaned in to face Pastor Harris. Maxwell lifted his head in the air and sniffed. “I smell federal warrants demanding that all church financial records be surrendered coming your way.” The bold attorney licked his finger and shoved it in the air, pointing south. “I’m pretty sure you can expect an audit of your personal taxes as well. This big, towering monstrosity of a building”—Maxwell waved his hand in front of the pastor’s face, making a full circle—“will not protect you from the strong winds of justice blowing this way.” The heated attorney’s voice rose two notches in volume. “Make no mistake about it. I’m going to bring you down.”
The pastor’s volume matched Maxwell’s as he struck back quickly. “With what? Lies, conjured-up evidence, and witnesses who you’ll probably pay to spit out any venomous script you write for them? You may have other folks intimidated and scared, but I’m not. I’ve got two things on my side that I’m pretty sure you don�
��t.”
“And what would those be?”
“The truth and God.”
Maxwell buttoned his suit jacket. “God can’t protect you from me. Maybe when you get to those pearly gates in the sky.” His gaze darted upward as he pointed toward the ceiling. “But while you’re here on earth, your butt is mine.”
The pastor slammed his fist down on the desk and sent a jar of mints crashing to the floor. “Get out of this church. Right now, get out. Do you hear me? Now.”
“What in the world is all the yelling about?” Martha inquired, stepping only halfway into the office.
Maxwell tugged at both sleeves of his shirt. Slowly, he moved past Pastor Harris. He noticed the rise and fall of Pastor Harris’s chest, and he could hear his heavy breathing. “Don’t have a heart attack. I’m leaving. But you can believe I’ll be back, and I won’t be alone next time.” Maxwell pressed his wrists together, then struggled to pull them apart as if handcuffs restrained them. He strolled from the office, right past two people huddled in the corner, and out the big wooden double doors of Faith Temple. Now Pastor Harris had been formally notified that his head was on the chopping block.
Chapter 30
“Martha, how in the world did Maxwell Montgomery get access to your computer and confidential financial records?” Pastor Harris’s arms flew up in the air and then fell back down, his hands crashing against his body.
“What? What are you talking about?” Martha shook her head and scrunched up her lips.
The pastor stomped to her desk and swiveled the computer monitor around so that it faced Martha. He punched the power button hard. “This confidential information.” He lifted up the monitor and held it in front of her. “Information like this has to be guarded. You know that. Obviously, you did not lock your computer. I’ve asked you more than once to lock it. This is not acceptable,” Pastor Harris scolded.
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