Fatal Convictions by Randy Singer Read Free Book Online

pews, so Alex positioned himself at the beginning of row three and made sure he had their attention.
    He looked around and realized that he really did care about these folks. Working class. Old school. Salt of the earth.
    “We come to church all dressed up in our best outfits,” Alex said, though he knew it wasn’t entirely true. A few of the younger members of South Norfolk Community Church subscribed to the Sunday casual dress code, sporting polo shirts or shorts or even jeans. Alex left his own board shorts, flip-flops, and T-shirts in Virginia Beach. On Sunday mornings, he donned a white shirt with cuff links, a bold-print tie, a freshly pressed suit, and—before his recent buzz cut—an extra dab of hair gel. The women in the senior saints club always told him how handsome he looked.
    Alex brushed both arms of his suit coat. “Nice suit, huh, Fred?”
    Fred’s head jerked up from his bulletin. “Hm. Not bad for a lawyer.”
    There was a smattering of chuckles. Alex smiled along. “On the outside, we look like we’ve got our act together. ‘How are you?’ ‘I’m great, thanks.’ But inside, we’re dying.”
    As he talked, Alex removed his suit coat and elicited a few gasps from the congregation. Some of the younger families snickered. He had mutilated his white shirt—ripping it, spattering red paint on it to look like blood, rubbing it in the dirt. The only part that wasn’t messed up was the part everyone could see when he had his suit coat on—the cuffs, the center buttons, and the collar.
    He tossed the suit coat on a pew. “God wants us to get honest with him,” Alex said. “He knows what’s under that spiffed-up exterior. The only way to get things right is to admit that you’re hurting underneath that nice new suit. To admit your failures and fears and addictions.”
    And inadequacies, he wanted to say. But he left that out. It felt too personal. Who was he to be preaching to these good folks?
    “The greatest danger is the belief that all is well when all may not be well.”
    Alex paused and looked from one member to the next. Maybe he wasn’t the kind of spiritual giant that pastors were supposed to be, but he did have a gift for public speaking, for motivating people by talking to their hearts. It’s why he always wanted to be a lawyer, though he found that the practice of law was more about grinding it out in the office than wooing a jury.
    But today, even a few of the deacons were slowly nodding their heads. This message, thought Alex, would at least be hard to forget.
    “Let’s pray.”

13
    On the way to work Monday morning, Alex’s own words kept echoing in his head. The greatest danger is the belief that all is well when all may not be well. He could apply that principle to so many areas of his life right now. His carefree and relaxed exterior covered deep fissures about to be exposed. One was his church and the fact that his congregation was slowly dwindling. He attributed the malaise to a stubborn refusal to change with the surrounding community, but he knew that some, including a few deacons, thought it had more to do with the inadequacies of Alex as a part-time pastor.
    Another involved Alex’s own feelings that he didn’t really belong in the role of pastor. He had stepped into this position two years ago as an interim solution when the church was without a pastor. He had never intended to stay this long and couldn’t help feeling like the good folks at South Norfolk Community Church deserved more than he could offer. Maybe he should step away. But could he really leave the church without a pastor again so soon?
    Then there was the law practice. Financially, the firm was taking on water. Most months they had negative cash flow, bumping their line of credit a little higher. They needed a big personal-injury case to set things right. Alex had already cut non-personnel expenses to the bone.
    Madison and Associates was located less than a mile from Alex’s condo and less