Lady Elect (29 page)

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Authors: Nikita Lynnette Nichols

BOOK: Lady Elect
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“We wanted to get you something to keep you company while you recuperated,” Adonis said.
“I love it, Adonis,” Arykah pulled the teeny puppy from the duffle bag. “Oh my God. She's adorable.”
Lance shook his head from side to side. “That's all I need right now. Another diva in this house.”
Arykah chuckled. “You got that right, honey. I'm big diva, and she's li'l diva.”
Arykah gasped. “Lance, you just named her. We're gonna call her ‘Diva.'”
Lance came to Arykah and scooped the puppy up in the palm of his hand. “Diva, huh? Knowing you, I thought you would've named her Gucci, or Prada, or after some type of designer.”
“Well, she does need a middle name,” Monique said.
“Don't encourage her,” Adonis pleaded.
Lance gave the dark brown and black miniature fur ball back to Arykah.
“Hmm, let's see.” Arykah thought of a middle name. “How about Diva Chanel Howell?”
“Arykah, can you get more snooty?” Lance asked.
“Oh, Bishop, you ain't seen snooty yet.” Arykah brought the puppy to her face and kissed her teeny, black, wet nose. “Wait until me and Diva Chanel show up at church with matching dresses, hats, and bling.” Arykah tickled Diva's belly. “You're my little diva. Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”
“Thanks a lot guys. That was the perfect gift,” Lance said sarcastically. Arykah was already a force to reckon with but with a mini-me in tow, Lance knew she was going to get out of control.
“Bishop, we gotta go shopping,” Arykah stated.
“For what?”
“It's cold outside. Diva Chanel needs a fur coat.”
Lance looked at Monique and Adonis. “See what y'all did?”
Arykah gave the puppy to Monique. “I can't bend over just yet. Can you put Diva on the floor?”
Monique gently set the puppy on the floor. “We bought food and puppy training pads too.” She looked at Adonis. “Babe, can you please get the puppy's other bag from the car? I wanna put a few of the training pads down before Miss Diva has an accident on the new carpet.”
Adonis rose from the sofa to honor Monique's request.
“By the way,” Arykah said to Monique, “Lance told me that you took off from work yesterday to come here while the new carpet was being installed. I appreciate that. Lance said there was a lot of blood, and I don't know how I would've reacted had I walked in and saw it.”
“It was no problem. Lance didn't wanna leave your side at the hospital, and neither of us wanted you to come home and see the stained carpet. That's what sisters do.”
Adonis returned with the puppy's food and training pads. Monique placed four pads on the floor by the cocktail table. Diva wasted no time squatting on one.
“That's a good girl,” Arykah said to her. “Now I'm supposed to give her a treat, right?”
“We got treats too,” Adonis said, reaching in the bag he brought in from the car. He pulled out a small white chewable treat and gave it to Diva. “These are yogurt bites. The veterinarian said that puppies love them, and they train well with these.”
“Well, now that Diva has her treat, can I have mine?” Monique asked Arykah. “I know Mother Cortland got down in your kitchen today. And where is Mother Cortland anyway?”
“She's upstairs resting,” Lance answered.
Arykah struggled to rise from the sofa. She held her side and winced at every move she made. Lance was quick to assist her.
“Let's eat. I'm starved,” Arykah said. “Hospital food is nasty.”
Lance helped Arykah to the kitchen table and asked if she wanted a bowl of the chicken noodle soup Mother Cortland had made especially for her. Mother Cortland knew that Arykah was missing two teeth and her lip had been busted. She wanted to make Arykah a dish that would be easy on her mouth.
“Heck, no, I don't want any soup. I want the Cornish hen with mac and cheese.”
“You can't chew that. But I'll be sure and let you know how good it is,” Monique teased. She and Adonis were at the stove preparing their plates.
Arykah almost called Monique the “B” word. “You don't tell me what I can or can't chew. I'm not gonna sit here and slurp soup and watch the three of you chew like southern hillbillies.”
“I'll have soup with you, Cheeks,” Lance tried to comfort her.
Arykah didn't say a word. She slowly rose from the table and went to the cabinet next to the refrigerator, where she pulled out her blender and set it on the counter next to the stove.
“What are you going to do with that blender?” Monique asked her.
“Why are you in my business? You fix your plate, and I'm gonna fix mine.”
Lance, Monique, and Adonis stopped what they were doing. They watched in amazement as Arykah cut three slices of the Cornish hen and put them in the blender. With a large silver spoon, she scooped three helpings of the macaroni and cheese and dropped them in the blender. They were absolutely stunned when Arykah went to the refrigerator and pulled out a gallon of milk and poured a fourth of a cup into the blender.
“I know you are not gonna do what I think you're gonna do,” Lance said to her.
Without a response, Arykah placed the top on the blender and pressed the puree button.
“You are out of your mind,” Monique said.
Adonis turned his nose up at Arykah's creation. “That ain't gonna taste good.”
When her meal was turned into a liquid, Arykah removed the top from the blender and poured the mixture into a glass. She took the glass and placed it in the microwave and heated it for thirty seconds.
“You are nuts,” Lance said to her.
Refusing to speak to any of them, Arykah removed the glass from the microwave and brought it up to her mouth. With one swallow she gagged. “Yuk. This is gross.”
Adonis chuckled. “I told you. That's like blending a cheeseburger. It ain't gonna taste like a cheeseburger. It's gonna be nasty.”
“What are you gonna do now?” Monique asked Arykah.
“I guess I'll have the soup.”
Lance laughed. “Sit down, Cheeks. I'll get it for you.”
Arykah sat at the kitchen table and saw Diva coming her way sniffing everything in sight. “There's my Diva.” Arykah called for the puppy to come to her.
After Adonis put his plate of food on the table, he scooped Diva up and gave her to Arykah. “She's as light as a feather,” he said.
Arykah brought Diva to her face. “You're so cute. And Mommy's gonna buy you so many cute clothes.”
“Oh boy,” Lance exhaled. He set Arykah's bowl of soup on the table in front of her. “How about a glass of sweet tea, Cheeks?”
“Tea would be great, babe. Thanks.”
Lance returned Diva to the kitchen floor and was on his way to get Arykah's glass of tea when his cellular telephone rang. He pulled it from its holder that was attached to his belt loop. “It's Detective Rogers,” he announced after he recognized the number.
Lance pressed the talk button and brought the telephone to his ear. “Hello, Detective Rogers.”
Monique brought her plate of food to the table and sat next to Adonis.
Arykah filled them in on why the detective may be calling. “Detective Rogers said that she would call when she got the results from the fingerprints on the doorbell.”
“You have a positive ID on the fingerprints?” Lance's voice rose. He looked at Arykah as he listened to the detective speak into his ear. “Arykah's rape kit?”
Arykah slowly stood holding her side.
“The semen sample matched whoever rang the doorbell,” Lance told Arykah.
Arykah's heart started to race.
Lance told Detective Rogers that he was gonna put her on speaker. “Arykah is here, Detective. And so are our friends, Monique and Adonis. We can all hear you.” Lance lay the telephone on the center island. “Go ahead, Detective.”
“The semen collected from the rape kit, the skin cells that were scraped from beneath Arykah's nails, and the print from your doorbell all matched a guy who has a rap sheet a mile long.”
Adonis and Monique stood from the table and came to the center island to hear Detective Rogers better.
“His name is Clyde Trumbull. He lives on the south side of Chicago.”
“Clyde Trumbull,” Lance repeated the name. “I don't know anyone with that name.”
“How about you, Arykah?” Detective Rogers asked. “Does Clyde Trumbull sound familiar to you?”
Detective Rogers couldn't see Arykah shaking her head from side to side. “No. I don't know anyone by that name.”
“Well, he certainly knows both of you. You should thank your best friend, Arykah. She hit the nail right on the head.”
Arykah frowned, and so did Monique. “What do you mean?” Arykah asked Detective Rogers.
“Clyde Trumbull is the nephew of Ms. Pansie Bowak.”
Arykah gasped so loudly that it caused her ribs to ache. She quickly consoled her aching side with her hand.
“I knew it!” Monique yelled out. “I
knew
it.”
Lance and Adonis couldn't speak. They were in shock and remained silent.
“Ms. Bowak has been Clyde's legal guardian since he was sixteen years old. He's her late sister's only son. Clyde is thirty-nine years old but has been in and out jail since the age of twenty-three. You name it, Clyde has done it. Robbery, auto theft, breaking and entering, marijuana possession, and now sexual assault. He's bipolar and schizophrenic. I mean this guy is a real monster.”
“Detective Rogers,” Lance was finally able to speak.
“Please call me Cortney.”
“Cortney, I am blown away at what you just laid on us. What happens now?”
“I have a warrant for Clyde's arrest. He'll be picked up tonight.”
“What about Mother Pansie?” Monique asked. “We all know she's the mastermind behind Arykah's attack.”
“Oh, I'm all over that, Monique. Don't you worry about Ms. Bowak. Once I get Clyde to sing—and I
will
make him sing—she'll be arrested too.”
“My Lord, my Lord,” Lance murmured.
“Seems like Clyde was Ms. Bowak's secret that she kept hidden from the outside world,” Detective Rogers said. “According to a neighbor, Ms. Bowak didn't allow Clyde outside the home often. The few times she did expose him to the outside world was when he'd gotten into trouble.”
“Well, that explains why she never brought him to church,” Lance said. “This is so crazy. Mother Pansie darn near raised me in the church, and I never even knew she had a sister, let alone a nephew.”
 
 
“Come on in ... where the feast of the Lord is going on.” The sanctuary choir at Freedom Temple was in high praise. “At the table. At the table ... where the feast of the Lord is going on.”
Lance sat in the pulpit. He was calm. He was cool. And he was collected. In his peripheral vision, he saw Minister Week's knees shaking.
Lance leaned over to him. “I shouldn't have told you anything, Weeks. You're a wreck.”
Carlton took his handkerchief from his interior suit jacket and wiped sweat from his brow. “I can't believe it, Bishop. I just can't believe it.”
Lance glanced at his wristwatch. It was all going down soon. He looked at Mother Pansie sitting on the second pew behind Monique and Myrtle. She was singing and rocking along with the choir, unaware that her world was about to crash. Lance wished that Arykah had been well enough to attend church and see justice get served.
He remembered Mother Gussie and Mother Pansie storming into his office after church.
“Bishop, she's not first-lady material.”
Lance recalled the red ink they poured in Arykah's chair. He could still see the tears Arykah shed the night Mother Gussie lied about the time that Arykah was supposed to meet the Cartwright family for prayer. Lance had defended Mother Gussie. He thought back to the day when the photo of Arykah and her client having dinner had mysteriously shown up at church. And then there was the infamous suit jacket at the dry cleaner fiasco.
Lance realized that the mothers had spent a huge amount of energy in trying to oust his wife. They caused her grief and embarrassment. Therefore, he didn't feel the least bit guilty when he asked Detective Rogers to wait until Sunday morning, after Mother Pansie had left for church, to arrest Clyde Trumbull.
Lance's cellular telephone vibrated. He was expecting a text message. He nonchalantly read it.

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