A Good Excuse To Be Bad (23 page)

“But what do you know about her?” Candace asked.

I sat back. “I was praying that you would tell me. Who is she and why isn't she with the church anymore?”

“Before we get to that, I think we need to pray, because some of us in this room are prone to gossip,” Mrs. Loretta eyeballed April.

Candace interrupted, “Not this time, Mrs. Loretta. What's said here, stays here. Right, Angel?” She looked at me.

I gulped. Were they kidding me? I'm a former reporter. That was why I didn't like talking to people in churches. They put the hand of God over the conversation and then I couldn't do what I wanted to do with the information I received. I couldn't share it.

“Not if it will help get my daughter's charges dropped. No way am I keeping anything a secret,” Mama said.

I patted Mama's back and whispered to her, “Thank you.” I thanked God for an out clause on that one. Mama said exactly what needed to be said.

“I agree that this is the perfect time for prayer,” Justus said.

“Amen, Reverend.” Mrs. Loretta waved her hand in the air.

He looked at me. “Can we do this together?”

We both blushed at each other. If God would let me remain friends with this man, then I would learn to be satisfied. I nodded. “Let's pray.”

 

A
fter the prayer, Justus and Mama went into his office to talk about cursing in church and enjoy some chocolate while I talked to the armor bearers some more. I pulled out my pen and pad, then asked the questions I had been wanting to ask all night.

Candace: Her name is Rachel Newton. She's twenty-six, single, been a member of Greater Atlanta since 2000. Was once the church receptionist. Devon appointed her as an armor bearer in 2005.

Loretta: Lady Ava had decided to facilitate leadership retreats for women alongside Devon's pastors conferences and needed a prayer cell to support her ministry and to travel with her. Rachel was hired as the media contact and events scheduler. She kept up with Ava's calendar.

No, First Lady Ava wrote her own media material. She just needed someone to get them out to her media outlets on time.

April: Six months ago.

Candace: She said that she had a personal obligation to meet.

April frowned. “She told me that God had called her to another service.”

“Tttt . . .” Mrs. Loretta shook her head. “It didn't matter what she said. We all knew she was pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Mama yelled from the other room.

“So it wasn't a rumor?” I asked.

Candace sat down. “I had hoped it was.”

“Why did you not want Rachel to be pregnant?” I asked.

“Rachel was devoted to her faith. She wanted to be married before she had children. If she were pregnant . . .” Candace lowered her head. “She would be very ashamed of herself.”

“As she should be.” Mrs. Loretta snarled. “Before I was a retired, old woman, I was a midwife. Did it for twenty years. I got so good I could spot a pregnant woman before those pregnancy tests could. Shoot. Come to think of it, I can, and I would tell those young girls to hold fast and wait for marriage.”

I turned to Mrs. Loretta. “How did Rachel know that you knew about her pregnancy?”

Mrs. Loretta grinned. “I'm the one that brought it to her attention.”

“Oh.” I sat back. “Mrs. Loretta, you ever thought about becoming a private investigator?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No.”

Justus escorted Mama back to her chair. He sat down beside me.

“Now that you've relaxed, Loretta, may I ask you if you know who's Rachel's baby daddy?” Mama asked.

We all turned to Justus.

He threw his hands up. “It's not me. I promise.”

“We know that.” I turned back to the ladies. “Could it be Devon's?”

“No!” the ladies shouted.

“Why couldn't it be Devon's?” I asked.

“Because he's a man of God.” Candace threw her right hand over her chest. She whispered, “And your brother-in-law. Do you have any loyalty?”

“I'm loyal to my sister. I've never led you to believe otherwise.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Mrs. Loretta said.

I saw Justus looking at me. He wasn't smiling or beaming at me, neither was Mama. I lowered my head.

“It's no surprise to you guys that Devon and I didn't get along, but my feelings for him have nothing to do with this question. It's important. I don't want to damage Devon's name. I don't want my sister, my niece, or my nephew to hate me, but I want to find the real killer. If there's a possibility that Devon could be the father or in all certainty, based on your statements, Devon knew who the father is, we have to know.”

No one in the room seemed fully convinced.

“Well, let me give you another scenario . . .” I stood up. “Newspapers are hurting right now because of the economy. If they get a whiff of what I uncovered—very easily, I might add—then imagine what that will look like for Greater Atlanta. Would you rather that I found out and fixed things before my old buddies at the
Atlanta Sentinel
do?”

“We're not having anyone debase the bishop's good name and character.” Mrs. Loretta placed her arms around me. “I'll help you. We all will. April, set out my banana pudding. This might be a long night.”

Justus patted my shoulders. “Finally, you're letting someone in.”

Mama whispered, “I told you that you needed Jesus.”

I frowned at her, then giggled. “Mama, you're something else.”

Candace placed her bowl down. “I'm not trying to sound selfish. But I don't believe our pastor fathered Rachel's baby. He wouldn't do a thing like that. He wouldn't do that to First Lady Ava. I know that in my gut.”

The other ladies said “Amen” in agreement.

Mrs. Loretta added, “Angel, based on your questions, I can tell you haven't spent much time around First Lady or the bishop.”

“He wouldn't allow me to,” I said.

Mama poked Justus in his ribs with her elbow. “He wouldn't.”

“Justus, let me get your two cents. Is that some kind of new pastor's law? Keep the women from their family?”

All the women looked at Justus. He looked at me, then folded his arms. “Pastors don't live by any marriage code different than a normal wedded couple.”

“That's true,” Mama said. “My first husband, the girls' father—God rest his soul—did his best to make our lives normal, but how can you be normal when everyone expects you to live like angels? I never had any real relationships until after he passed. And I don't think my children did either. Thank God they had each other . . .” She looked down at me and smiled. “Sort of.”

I loved her.

“Now, my second husband. He was a pastor, too. Honey, that was a nightmare and the church had nothing to do with that. Isn't that right, baby?” She looked at me.

“I won't touch that tonight, Mama.”

I turned my attention to the ladies again. “Then where's Rachel? Why has she disappeared and given you all different reasons as to why she left? She sounds a little suspect to me.”

To tell the truth, I still wasn't buying Devon's holy pants spiel. He very well could be the father of Rachel's unborn baby. It would definitely explain why Ava wanted to keep everything on the hush. She was protecting Devon's legacy with Greater Atlanta, while Rachel was hiding her pregnancy to protect what or whom? Maybe Devon wasn't the father. Pastors took concubines like David took Bathsheba, and scandal like this would definitely rock Big Faith's arc. But I'd take the high road. I'd give Devon the benefit of the doubt for now, because to tell the truth, all I had was more gossip and a missing mom-to-be. I needed some facts. I needed to find Rachel.

“But if that's the case, then none of you ladies would object to helping me find Rachel?”

Mrs. Loretta stood up. “I don't have a problem with it. I would like to know how she's doing. That baby should be due any day now.”

“Have any of you visited her lately?”

They all shook their heads.

“She moved from where she once lived,” Candace said. “So I haven't seen her.”

April raised her hand. “I saw her last week. We both were at the McArthur mansion. I had to run an errand for Lady Ava. She was there meeting the bishop. She said she would be returning to our group after her life settled down.”

“Did she say when she would return, like what month?”

“No, like I said, I didn't know her very well. It was more like small talk, I thought.”

I turned to Candace and Mrs. Loretta. “Has my sister said anything to you about Rachel's return?”

They looked at each other, then at me. “No.”

I didn't want to suspect that these two were not being truthful, but their responses only generated more questions for me.

“Do either of you know where she moved?”

They shrugged.

“Have you called her at all since she left Greater Atlanta?”

“Her cell phone was disconnected,” Candace said. “I don't feel comfortable talking about someone when they aren't present to defend themselves, but she left the church so abruptly. I thought she had done something wrong. I admit that.”

“More wrong than being pregnant out of wedlock?” Mrs. Loretta asked.

Candace rolled her eyes. “I believe Mary was pregnant before Joseph married her, so what? See. This is why we're losing members. We're too judgmental.”

“Beware of the judgment is all I will say to that.” Mrs. Loretta shook her head and sipped some iced tea from her glass.

“Candace, if you're such an advocate for unwed mothers, I'm surprised that Rachel didn't come to you.”

“So am I.” Candace looked at everyone in the room except me. “She knew that she was welcome in my house, but she chose to walk away from us all. I don't understand that. Do you?”

“No, I don't.”

Justus cleared his throat. I looked up. He nodded at me to follow him outside the room. I excused myself from the ladies and followed him.

He turned around. “I know what you're thinking.”

I pulled the envelope from my back pocket and handed it to him. “No, you don't.”

He held the envelope in his hand and looked at me. “What's this?”

“Before Elvis left, he gave me this envelope. He told me that the Board of Trustees and Greater Atlanta want to hire me to find Rachel.”

“You're joking.”

“Take a look inside the envelope. There's a check for 50 G's in there. Does that look like a joke to you?”

“This doesn't make sense.” He peered inside and wrinkled his nose. “Why didn't they take their reservations to Detective Salvador instead of you? Why didn't they ask Terry to find her instead of you?”

“I don't know. But the question you should be asking yourself is . . .”

He frowned. “What? What's the question?”

I looked away.

Over the years, I had received anonymous story germs—little notes, tips, snippets, and rumor bites that could, under the right conditions, turn into a full story. Most of these germs came from “my shadow people.” Many of them were disgruntled throwaways who didn't want any attention, but wanted to settle scores with the people who had hurt them by disclosing their secret sins. Their stories would range from sexual indiscretion, domestic violence, money laundering to things I shuddered to mention and definitely cringed to write about. I was many things, but I didn't have the stomach to tear someone down for the sake of vendetta journalism, so I rarely used them. But I never forgot them either. As I stood in front of Justus thinking about the possibility that Rachel was removed from the church because of her unplanned pregnancy, I thought of what Justus would think of me if I contacted any of them, to know what they knew.

I liked Justus. I respected him, but if I told him my thoughts, he wouldn't like me anymore. He wouldn't respect me. I didn't want to lose that. I missed what it felt like to have a good man respect me. To me, it was far more important than spilling the contents of my warped brain to him.

I forced a grin. “Why is finding Rachel worth fifty thousand dollars to Greater Atlanta?”

“That's a good question.” Justus rubbed his head. “I think we need to take this info to Salvador. It would help Ava's case.”

“Or it could hurt.”

“Why would it hurt her?” Justus asked.

“If Rachel was a part of some torrid love triangle between Devon and my sister . . .” I thought out my next words before I said them. “That kind of news would not be good for Ava.”

Justus put his arms around me. “I don't believe that at all. Not the bishop.”

I looked up at him. “Fifty thousand dollars, Justus. It makes sense to me.”

He pulled back and frowned. “What if she's in trouble? What if she's a witness?”

“A witness? To what?” I scoffed. “I wish.”

“That's a possibility.”

“No, it isn't. Think about it, Justus.” I came closer to him. “Ava won't talk. She demanded I not snoop around. And out of thin air, this Rachel person's name pops up a day before the church asks me to find her.”

“You're losing me.” He rubbed his head. “Slow down and clarify.”

I pulled out my notebook and ran my fingers down my throat. “I don't know myself. I'm just talking this out to process it all. Tossing some brainstorms out to see what sticks.”

He nodded. “Okay, so what's sticking? What looks like it makes sense?”

“The only thing that makes sense to me is . . .” I gulped. I didn't want to tell him, but I couldn't. I felt like I would be lying to God if I didn't. Yet, I didn't want to hear what was about to come out of my mouth. It was a stupid, stupid thought, I chided myself, but it was the only thing that made sense at this point. “I think that my sister might be the killer, after all, and Greater Atlanta wants to clean up the mess before Devon's indiscretion with Rachel becomes public record.”

“You can't believe that.”

“I don't want to believe it, but if Ava weren't my sister—objectively speaking . . .” I shook my head. “It's just like Salvador said. The more I snoop, the more I'm going to hurt Ava. He meant I would uncover more evidence to bury her with.”

“I think you're tired.”

“No, just listen. Let's take tonight's meeting with the armor bearers, for example. All we did was uncover more dirt. Rachel's resignation from the armor bearer's group was suspect. It's hard for me to believe that those nosy women in there didn't know who Rachel was seeing. They had hoped they'd removed Rachel before Ava found out, but they were too late. They're covering up for my sister.”