The Choir Director (38 page)

I shook off that thought as quickly as it had come to mind. My gut told me that I would only find papers that proved T. K.’s innocence. But then I would have to deal with the overwhelming guilt and shame for ever having doubted him—and for allowing Maxwell to trick me into dishonoring my marriage the way I had.

After awhile, I was able to find what I was looking for—state-ments from the same dates that Maxwell had shown me, along
with images of checks in the amounts Maxwell claimed T. K. had stolen. These, however, were the originals, and they showed something quite different from the ones in Maxwell’s file. None of the check images had T. K.’s name on them. Maxwell had probably copied the files, covered the real names on the checks with Wite-Out, put T. K.’s name in their place, then copied the doctored version to conceal the Wite-Out.

“Oh, praise God! He was telling the truth!” I said jubilantly. “My husband was telling the truth, and here’s the proof that Maxwell’s ass was lying all along.”

Once I got myself together, I had to take a closer look at the statements to see if I could discern where the money had actually gone. I was hoping to find a way to pin it all on Maxwell, but the trail of debits and credits to the account, as well as the checks that were written revealed something even more shocking than I could have imagined: Jonathan Smith and Simone Wilcox were the true thieves!

Now some things were starting to make sense. This must have been why Smitty killed himself. Maxwell must have known he was stealing and threatened to expose him. I knew from experience how effective Maxwell’s threats could be. That was probably also why Simone was at his house that morning. He must have been holding the embezzlement over her head too.

“That son of a bitch,” I said aloud. He’d been blackmailing everyone, including me. I could kill him for what he’d made me do. And rest assured, I would never do it again.

All of a sudden, the lights blazed on, temporarily blinding me. I let out a scream, squeezing my eyes shut.

“What are you doing here?” a man shouted.

I raised the hand holding the flashlight to protect myself. “I’m the first lady of the church. Please don’t hurt me.” I opened my eyes and tried to adjust to the light.

“It’s all right, First Lady. It’s me, Aaron.” When my eyes finally focused, I saw Aaron standing in the doorway, wielding a large bat. His brow was furrowed in concern.

“What are you doing here?” I said. I slowly closed the file drawer, though I’m sure Aaron saw. I was also still holding the flashlight and the file that proved T. K.’s innocence.

“I’ve gotta win this competition. We’re leaving tomorrow night, so I’m working day and night on the songs. I was here practicing when I thought I heard a noise coming from this end of the building.” He looked around the office suspiciously. “My question is what are you doing in the bookkeeper’s office at two in the morning with a flashlight?” He flicked the light on and off, finally leaving it on. “The light seems to work just fine.”

Seeing how loyal Aaron had been to the bishop, I decided to take a chance. I needed an ally, and other than T. K., he seemed to be the only one who cared about anything around here. “Aaron, can you keep a secret?”

He nodded. “Sure, First Lady. As long as you’re not involving me in any felony or robbery of the church, I’ll take it to the grave.”

“No, nothing like that.” I swallowed a lump in my throat before I continued. “I had heard some rumors about my husband stealing money from the church, and I was trying to prove they weren’t true.”

Aaron finally relaxed and put the bat down by his side. “Well, did you find what you were looking for?” I could see his concern. He really looked up to the bishop.

“Yes, thank God. They’re not true.” I raised the file that was still in my hands.

“Who would say such a ridiculous thing about the bishop?”

I suddenly felt so ashamed of myself I wanted to cry. Here was Aaron, who’d known the bishop for only a few months, and he had not even a moment’s doubt that the rumors were false. I, on the other hand, was his wife and had allowed myself to be duped. How had I ever let myself believe that T. K. could steal from his beloved church?

“Believe it or not, it was Maxwell who was whispering in my ear, telling me that the bishop was stealing from the church.”

“Man, that dude’s going straight to hell. I ain’t never seen anyone as devious as him.”

“Yeah, well, I might be going there with him,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Excuse me. What did you say, First Lady?”

“Nothing.” He was staring at me funny, so I think he might have heard part of what I said. Still, I wasn’t about to repeat it.

“So, if it wasn’t the bishop stealing, who was it? Maxwell?”

“I don’t see any proof of it, but Maxwell’s too smart for that anyway. He’d never be stupid enough to put his name on something that was illegal. But Jonathan Smith and your girl Simone weren’t.” I handed him the file and he thumbed through it briefly.

“First Lady, I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

“Okay, let me explain. Simone and Smitty were stealing from the church. Because they were the chair of the deacons’ board and board of trustees, they would write each other checks, and wire transfer money to each other—Simone would even write checks to Wilcox Motors.”

“Now, that’s bold.”

“Sure was, but with James gone to prison, they could do whatever they wanted. Nobody was going to miss ten or fifteen thousand dollars a month, especially since they were in charge of the money.”

“What about the bookkeeper? Didn’t he notice anything?”

“I doubt it. You’ve seen Mr. Wright. He’s darn near eighty years old, and he only comes in three times a week. Simone pretty much has him intimidated. So, up until Jackie got busted and the weekly offerings dropped off drastically, they were good to go. First Jamaica Ministries was a cash machine. T. K. and the boards trusted them.”

“Oh my God, that’s where that thirty thousand dollars came from!” Aaron shook his head in disgust.

“What thirty thousand dollars?”

“The thirty thousand dollars Simone was supposed to get from Deacon Smith before he died. That woman is scandalous.”

“Not as scandalous as Maxwell. He’s been pulling puppet strings around here for quite some time. Simone’s a little fish compared to him. And Smitty was right when he told Bishop this thing was bigger than it seemed.”

We were both quiet for a moment. I was trying to wrap my head around the depth of the deception that had been happening right under our noses.

“So, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell your husband? I’m sure Bishop will know what to do. He always does.”

If only it were that easy. “No, I don’t think so. At least not until nationals is over.”

“I don’t understand. Why?”

“Because Smitty and Simone aren’t the only ones Maxwell has something on.”

Aaron tilted his head and studied my face as if he were trying to read my mind. “They’re blackmailing you, too, aren’t they?”

I answered with a nod.

“With what? What could they possibly have on you?”

“My husband. I was trying to save T. K. from going to jail,” was all I said. Tears welled up in my eyes.

I think he knew what my mouth couldn’t say, because he reached out and touched my hand. “It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me. Some things are better left unsaid.” Aaron looked down at the file and then back up at me. “Now that you’ve shared something with me”—he hesitated for a few seconds—“I’d like to share something with you.”

Choir rehearsal was under way, and with the exception of Tia not being there, everything was perfect. It was our last practice. The bus would be leaving for D.C. in about three hours. The sopranos were hitting high notes without effort, the tenors were riffing to perfection, and the basses would have given the late, great Barry White a run for his money. Nothing could disturb our groove. We were tuned to perfection, and a win at the National Gospel Choir Championship was within our grasp.

The choir wasn’t distracted from their practice, even when the doors to the choir room flung open and Tia rushed in. She ran up on me like she couldn’t wait to kiss me. It had been two days since we’d seen each other, so I was happy to see her, too, but it would have to wait until we at least finished our song. It was her index finger stabbing my shoulder that pulled me from my choir directing. Even then, the choir didn’t stop. They just kept on singing like they were performing for the Lord Himself.

“I need to talk to you.” That’s what it sounded like Tia was saying, though it was hard to tell.

“Huh?” I leaned my ear in closer to her mouth while my eyes stayed focused on the singers. I thought I’d be able to hear her more clearly, but she kept rambling about something.

“I said I need to talk to you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice was so loud that the choir stopped singing to appease her attempt to communicate with me.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I need to talk to you. Right now. Alone.”

Though I could tell she was trying to maintain her usual professional
demeanor in front of the choir, I thought I detected something like disgust in her tone, and behind her eyes was outright anger.

“Uh, choir, can you all excuse me for a moment? Keep practicing while I talk with Sister Tia here. Sister Judith, do you mind taking over for a moment, please?”

As Tia and I headed out of the choir room, they started singing again.

“Hey, everything okay?” I asked Tia once we were outside the choir room. “I was worried about you. It’s not like you to be MIA for a whole day. I figured it might have something to do with the hotline or something, though.”

She rolled her eyes, so I playfully wagged my finger in her face, hoping to lighten the mood. “So, I guess I’ll give you a pass for being late. You ready to go to D.C.? The buses will be here in a couple of hours.”

She responded with tears falling from her eyes. “I’m not going to D.C. I’m not going anywhere with you ever again.”

“Tia, what’s wrong? It’s not your brother, is it?”

“If I were you, I’d leave Kareem out of this. You’re lucky he doesn’t kick your ass.”

“For what? Tia, what did I do?” I pleaded. I was now officially frustrated as hell.

She glared at me. “I spoke to Simone. She told me you’ve been to prison.”

I stood there stunned, as if once again I couldn’t hear a word she was saying. But I’d heard her all right, loud and clear. Believe it or not, I’d almost forgotten about Simone’s threats. I’d been so frantic preparing for the competition that I hadn’t spent much time worrying about it, and after awhile I figured that if she hadn’t said anything by now, she wouldn’t say anything at all.

“Have you, Aaron? Have you been to prison?” she demanded.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer her, because I was afraid of what she would ask next.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” She looked horrified, like she was my victim, or my victim’s family.

“Listen, Tia, I wanted to tell you. I should have told you, but—”

“But what?” I tried to reach out and hold her, but she backed away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again,” she said angrily. “If I wasn’t a Christian woman, I’d spit in your face right now.”

Inside, I was berating myself:
I should have told her. I should have told her.
But outwardly, I placed my anger elsewhere.

“That damn Simone! That whoring bitch!” I started pacing in front of her.

“Don’t blame this on Simone. This is all you.” She pointed a finger at me. “I can’t stand you, Aaron Mackie.”

“But what about forgiveness? You always preach forgiveness.”

“Are you serious? Don’t even talk to me about forgiveness. I hate you!”

Whoa. This was not the Tia I knew. She used to look at me with such admiration, but this look she was giving me now … it was pure hate. I’d seen that look before. From strangers, it was bearable. From Tia, a woman I was falling in love with, it hurt. It hurt really bad.

“I’m sorry, Tia, but it all happened so long ago that I—”

“That you thought I wouldn’t find out?” she finished my sentence.

“I know how this might look, but if you’d let me explain, perhaps—”

“Perhaps you should just go to hell!” Tia spat as a fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes. It pained me to know that I was the cause of her anguish. It was never my intention to hurt this sweet, wonderful woman.

“Tia, please. Let me explain.”

“No, Aaron. No need to explain. Nothing you say could possibly change the way I feel right now. I trusted you. I let you in, let you into my group, and you betrayed me. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid. And you can trust me,” I said in my own defense. “I lied to you, but it will never happen again. I promise.”

“My God, you’re a fraud and a menace to society, and I’m sure everyone else will agree.” She balled up her fist and hit a wall. “You know what bothers me the most is that for all the
years I’ve known Bishop Wilson, he’s never been wrong about much. But it looks like you fooled even him. Looks like he picked the wrong person to represent this church, and I’m sure he’ll agree when I tell him. I swear if we didn’t need to win that competition to keep this church, I’d tell him about you right now. When you get back, win or lose, if you don’t tell him, I sure as hell will.”

Tia turned away, leaving me standing there with a million things racing through my head. I wanted to go after her, but my head wasn’t on right, and with her being angry, it wouldn’t do any good.

“Cut! Cut!” I yelled repeatedly as I reentered the choir room. I was frustrated and not in any mood to continue working. What I needed was a drink. “Choir rehearsal is over.”

The confused singers stared at me as if I’d just walked into the room naked.

“I’m sorry. You guys have done great, but something has come up. I need to go for a little while. I’ll see everyone on the bus in three hours.” I looked to Sister Judith, my adoptive godmother. “Sister Judith, can you make sure all the equipment is shut down and the room is locked up?”

I didn’t even wait for her to reply before I rushed out the door, hoping to find Tia. I had to try to explain one more time.