Deceit by Brandilyn Collins Page B

morning before service to talk over…the issues at hand. After some prayer and discussion we thought it would be a good idea to come see you.”
    Prayer and discussion? A fly on that wall would have drowned in Baxter’s honeyed words.
    Baxter spread his hands. “May we come in?”
    I dared a look at his face. He surveyed me with his unique mixture of serenity and power. I’m being a good Christian—or I’d squash you. Pain edged the expression. His face looked thinner. He’d lost weight since Cherisse’s death.
    “Sure.” I stepped back and ushered them into the hall. Twelve hours ago I’d done the same for two policemen—in the dark. I felt no less shaken now.
    I closed the door and faced the two men, my hands laced in front of me. An awkward silence followed. Clearly they expected me to invite them to sit down. I would not.
    Baxter glanced into my office at my computer screen. Thank goodness all he could see was the desktop. His eyes flicked away.
    Steve cleared his throat. “Baxter, you want to…?”
    “Yes.” Baxter faced me, his lips curved in pious forgiveness. “I wanted to talk to you before church. You know the Bible says we’re not to worship God if someone has something against us. We’re to go make things right with that person first. I know there’s this…problem sitting between us, and I hoped we could resolve it.”
    I’ll just bet he did. In front of his pastor, of course, so he’d have a witness as to his gracious character.
    I looked from him to Steve. “Whose idea was this?”
    “Baxter’s.” My pastor’s tone was firm, as if the answer alone supported Baxter’s claim.
    My arms folded. “I see. Baxter, why couldn’t you do this alone? Why bring Steve? As I remember, the passage you’re talking about also says to go to the person quietly, by yourself. And if that doesn’t resolve the problem, then take a witness along.”
    Steve hesitated. What could he say? He knew I was right.
    “You’ve been so against me, Joanne.” Baxter raised a hand in supplication. “Frankly, I didn’t know if you would talk to me alone.”
    He had that right. I’d have never opened the door.
    Baxter saw my hardening expression and flicked a glance at Steve— see what I mean?
    My cheeks grew hotter. Here stood this detestable man in my house—this wife beater, this murderer , and all the while his voice dripped with feigned hurt at my shortcomings. I couldn’t imagine how Linda survived living with such a hypocrite.
    Oh, wait. She hadn’t.
    “Joanne.” Steve shifted on his feet. “Can we resolve this?”
    “What’s to resolve?”
    He tilted his head. “You’ve made some pretty strong allegations against Baxter publicly—”
    “I did not make them publicly. They were overheard, and a reporter printed them. That was never my intent.”
    “Okay. But now that’s happened, the allegations are out there.”
    “So talk to the reporter.”
    Surprise flicked across my pastor’s face. He’d never seen me act like this—toward him or anyone else.
    “We came here to talk to you , Joanne.” Baxter’s voice remained ever so calm, his eyes gleaming with sincerity. “I just want to reassure you that I never did anything to hurt Linda or Cherisse. I mourn the death of both my wives more than you can know.”
    “Jackson will kill you if he finds out.”
    My arms shook. I wanted to punch out Baxter’s lights. This man was the reason I’d been driven from my own home last night, why I was now afraid to sleep here at all. How dare he come here? Even for Baxter Jackson, this was over the top.
    “This involves more than just you and Baxter,” Steve prodded. “Many in the church are upset about it. I just hoped we could talk it out.”
    A horrifying thought spun through my head. What if Baxter was doing more than playing righteous in front of his pastor? Inside, he had to be livid. If something bad did happen to me after that newspaper article, surely someone would raise Baxter’s name as