The Trouble With Angels Page 0,83

grandson had been a simple one. She had asked that God guide Ted to the woman of his choice.

She had her answer. Only she didn't like it.

But that was all right; she'd often disagreed with God's decisions. After plenty of disappointments and heartache over the years, Catherine had learned something far more important.

To trust.

Maureen looked over to her boss's desk and made sure he was occupied before she reached for the telephone receiver and punched out the familiar number of the law firm that had represented her in the divorce. Although her attorney was away, Maureen felt she needed legal advice.

"Beckman, Crest, and Gold. How may I direct your call?" The receptionist rattled off the words in a monotone.

"Hello, this is Maureen Woods," she said, keeping her voice low. "I understand Susan Gold is in court, but I need to speak to an attorney. It's very important. Can you tell me who's available to take my call?"

"Would you rather have an appointment?"

"No," was Maureen's automatic response. She couldn't afford the time off work or the additional attorney's fees. Not once had she been in the law firm's office when it hadn't cost her two hundred dollars or more. "It's just a quick question having to do with the divorce settlement."

"Hold, please."

Maureen was left to twiddle her thumbs for several elongated seconds before the receptionist returned. "Glenn Crest can speak to you now."

"Thank you," she said, and waited for the senior partner to pick up the receiver. It seemed to her that she remembered meeting Glenn early on in her divorce proceedings. He was older, well established, and knowledgeable. She trusted him.

"Hello, Ms. Woods, it's good to hear from you again," he greeted her in a smooth voice. "How may I help you?"

"It has to do with Karen, my daughter."

"Yes."

Maureen could hear him shuffling papers and hoped he had her file in front of him and was quickly reviewing the case. Since she owed her soul to legal fees, she sincerely hoped Glenn could help her. "My ex-husband's attorney sent me a letter. Brian wants Karen to spend Christmas Eve with him."

"According to the terms of your agreement - "

"I know all about the terms," she said, cutting him off. "But he owes me months of back child support."

"I'm afraid there aren't any stipulations regarding late child support and visitation rights."

Maureen already knew that, but she still hoped. "You don't understand," she said, the frustration getting the better of her. "I'm afraid...I'm afraid." The words skidded to a halt in her mind as she stepped directly in front of her worst fear.

"Yes, Ms. Woods?"

"I'm afraid," she repeated shakily, "that Brian's going to ask for full custody of Karen."

Paul woke to the sound of birds chirping. It amazed him how beautiful a morning could be and that he could be a part of that beauty.

He dressed, climbed out of the tent, and brewed coffee in a blue enamel pot. Cradling the mug of steaming coffee in his hands, he sat on the edge of the picnic table and made plans for his day.

After breakfast he'd go on a hike, the same one he'd taken with Joe several years back. The five-mile trek was sure to tire him out, so when he returned to his campsite, he'd take a leisurely nap and soak in the sun.

He'd worry later on about what he'd pack for the hike. Breakfast had never excited him, and he was satisfied with a granola bar.

His plans made, Paul rinsed out the coffeepot and changed into his hiking boots. He was about to start on the hike when He heard the sound of another camper stirring.

Paul could see the tent, which was several spaces down from his own. The privately owned grounds didn't get much business in the winter months, he knew. As far as he could tell, he and his neighbor were the only two campers on the grounds. Of course, with Christmas less than a week away, business was probably off. Not many folks were thinking about the great outdoors this time of the year.

Paul loaded his backpack, settled it in the middle of his back, and reached for his walking stick. He started down the dirt road past the occupied campsite, just as the tent flap opened and a burly man stepped out. The man stretched his arms high above his head and yawned loudly.

Paul hesitated.

It couldn't be. If he hadn't known better, he'd think the camper was none other than Steve Tenny.

The two men