Dark Star: Confessions of a Rock Idol (39 page)

“That will be fine, sir. I’ll be making a breakfast buffet today. Is there anything in particular you would like?”

“Let’s see…I know some of the guests like pancakes and sausage. Plenty of coffee, and you’ll be all set.”

After closing the door to my room and propping my pillow against the headboard of the bed, I crawled in, pulled the covers up to my waist, and read the top story of the day in the
Miami Herald.
It
featured a small, full-color mug shot of me, the one taken the day before at police headquarters.

Lester surrenders on murder warrant

Rocker is booked, posts bail, speaks

MIAMI
—Shock rock legend Everett Lester flew from Kansas to Miami yesterday on a private jet to turn himself in to authorities who had issued a warrant for his arrest on murder charges a day earlier.

Lester is being accused of murdering LA psychic Madam Endora Crystal, who was found dead from a single gunshot wound in the singer’s North Miami high-rise last November 11. Miami-Dade Prosecutor Frank Dooley said the county will likely seek a murder one conviction, a felony punishable by the death penalty or life in prison without parole.

Once Lester’s jet pulled halfway into a hangar at Miami International Airport yesterday, he and friends deplaned in privacy; then he surrendered to authorities, was handcuffed with his hands behind his back and was escorted by squad car to police headquarters.

As reporters and fans swarmed the police station, Lester’s attorneys immediately posted his five-million-dollar bail. The rocker was in and out of the precinct in less than one hour amid complaints of “special treatment” from onlookers.

Before leaving in a black Lincoln Continental, which was escorted by a police motorcade, Lester spoke beneath lightning-filled skies of his recent conversion to Christianity, an event that has rocked the world.

“I have found peace, joy, and the promise of eternal life in Jesus Christ,” Lester told the rambunctious crowd. “To you, the public, and to the many DeathStroke fans who will hear this message, I apologize to you from the bottom of my heart for misleading you with evil intent during my DeathStroke days.”

Prosecutor Dooley said a grand jury is currently reviewing evidence in the case, and that he expects a formal indictment within days. At the indictment, Lester will have the opportunity to plead guilty or not guilty to the murder charges.

“Everett Lester has been in and out of trouble ever since he was a youth,” Dooley told reporters outside police headquarters yesterday. “The drugs, the violence…they’ve caught up with him. The evidence in this case is extremely damaging. Our goal is to get this man off the streets, out of the public eye, before he hurts others.”

Of Lester’s claim that he has become a born-again Christian, Dooley said, “That’s what they all say, once they get caught. It’s typical foxhole religion.”

Lester will likely be free on bail until his trial begins but unable to leave the Miami-Dade jurisdiction. Once the trial starts, Lester will be incarcerated at the Miami-Dade detention center until he is either found guilty or exonerated.

Due to Lester’s monetary holdings and worldwide fame, his trial promises to be one of the most sensational in history, with cameras in the courtroom and twenty-four-hour cable news channels making a blitz to show all.

I folded the paper, rested it on my lap, and sipped my coffee—reading but not really thinking about the story in the small box on the lower left-hand portion of the front page. It was about a six-foot, eleven-inch white male who robbed a firearms store near Miami International Airport the day before.

The man overpowered one employee, got two guns from behind a glass counter, loaded them, and attempted to flee. When another employee reached for the security alarm, the perpetrator fired shots, seriously wounding both employees, a father and son. The gunman was captured three blocks away, hiding in an abandoned office above a bakery. He was arrested and charged with armed robbery and two counts of attempted murder. His name: Zane Bender.

Discarding the
Miami Herald,
I picked up my brown Bible from the nightstand and read in silence for fifteen or twenty minutes, then slipped out of the bed and onto my knees.

Dear God, thank You for this day. Thank You for who You are and what You’ve done. You are mighty. You are alive. I feel You here with me.

Lord…I need Your help. Please, Jesus, clear my name. Give me a good name. Set me free of these charges. I pray for Karen and her parents, for safety. Please give Karen and me life together here on earth. I know it’s selfish, but that’s what I long for. And give me a mighty testimony, so I can help many people find You.

I’m thinking of Olivia this morning, God… My heart aches for her, for her mom and dad. God, please, would you heal that girl? Let her arise out of the condition she’s in—just like You helped so many people do in the Bible. Let her parents feel Your love and comfort. Help them to forgive me.

Bless Mary and Jerry. May they find happiness together, with You as the center of their relationship.

Help me be like You today. Amen.

I had never seen Brian Boone as desperate as he appeared after Dooley had finished cross-examining Ricky. Following the day’s trial, Boone and I were given thirty minutes to meet in a stark white holding area, just off of courtroom B-3. We sat in two plastic chairs with a small, dingy yellow table between us, and a Miami-Dade police deputy stood at attention near the door.

“I’ll be straight with you, Everett. I’m worried. We’ve played all of our cards.”

“No, we haven’t. I haven’t testified. You need to put me on the stand tomorrow, Boone. That’s what I want!”

“I think we need to change your plea to guilty,” he said, staring hard at me. “It’s not too late.”

“Why? So I can get out when I’m ninety? Come on. I want to take this chance.”

He dropped his head.

The red-cheeked, baby-faced deputy looked straight ahead the whole time, as if he weren’t listening.

“I just want a chance to tell my side of the story. All they know of me is the past. They need to see who I am today.”

“Dooley will eat you alive.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“I need to think about it some more,” Boone murmured, his head still down.

“Will you be at the prison tonight? Will we talk again before tomorrow, or what?”

“I’ll get in touch with you, one way or another.” He stood, looking at the guard. “Let me know if you have any more big ideas.”

I found some cream-colored stationery and a black pen in the drawer of the desk in my bedroom at the house in Bal Harbour. I pulled out the desk chair, sat down, and began to write.

Dear Olivia, Claudia, and Raymond,

As you probably know by now, I am in serious trouble with the law here in Miami. I’m sure these latest charges have confirmed your worst thoughts about me. I’m sorry you feel the way you do and must admit, I cannot blame you.

I did want to let you know, however, that I have changed. My love and concern for Olivia grow each day, and I can’t express the sorrow I feel about her condition and the fact that I am responsible. With Jesus Christ now living in my heart, I pray that our mighty God will heal your lovely girl—that He will raise her up to walk and talk and swim and cheerlead again.

Please also know that it is my desire to pay for all of your hospital expenses and medical costs. If you continue your plan to file suit against me, I will gladly pay the amount determined by the courts.

Claudia, my prayers are with you for strength and peace. Raymond, I pray that someday God will allow us to be friends. Olivia, I pray God will restore you.

Again, please forgive me for the heartache I have brought to your world. I think about your family often and will never give up hope for healing.

Warm regards,

Everett Lester

Matthew 11:28–30

***

The breakfast Sonja drummed up was scrumptious. Not only did she come through with thin, golden pancakes and sausage in maple syrup, but she created a fresh fruit bowl, egg casserole, and biscuits with white sawmill gravy. (She’s from the South.)

The mood was upbeat and festive as we gathered around the huge dining room table, which was garnished with two crystal vases full of fresh flowers. Jacob and Sarah were still in their pajamas, but Karen and I were showered and dressed. Mary and Jerry were in their sweats, having just returned from a morning walk.

“We sneaked out the back door and went down to the beach,” Mary said. “It was
wonderful.
I love this setting.”

“Did the photographers follow you?” I asked.

“For a little while,” Jerry said, “but we kept going and lost them. I think we did about four miles.”

“I hope you guys can sneak out and visit the shops in the Village today,” I said to everyone.

“Oh, I’m up for that!” Karen said. “How ’bout it, Mom? Are you with me?”

“Absolutely.”

“What about you, Mary?”

“Well, I don’t know…” Mary hesitated with mock sadness. “I m not sure I can be away from my fiancé for too long.”

With those words, Mary lifted her left wrist up to her forehead, pretending to be distraught and at the same time revealing a sparkling solitaire diamond ring.

“Yes!”
I jumped up to hug my sister. “Congratulations! When did it happen?”

Karen was up hugging Jerry in an instant, while Jacob and Sarah beamed and clapped from across the table.

“This morning, of all times!” Mary blurted out, looking at the ring again. “Can you believe it?”

“When will the wedding be?” Jacob asked.

“We don’t know,” Jerry said. “We’re open to anything. Who knows, we may get hitched while we’re down here.”

“Well…we can’t do that,” Mary said, acting like a wife already. “We’ll want to have the boys there. But other than that, it’s pretty wide open. Sometime within the next year, I hope.”

I caught Karen’s glance from two seats over. She looked right into me. The grin on her face was warm and loving, a forever smile. I knew what she was thinking—about us and when our day would come, if ever.

As I left the Justice and Administration Center under heavy guard after speaking with Boone, the press coverage was insane. Miami-Dade deputies began escorting me to their car, but as they did, we were overcome by reporters to the extent that my feet actually left the ground in the crowd’s sway. Panic sparked in the eyes of one of the deputies in front of me, who pushed with all his might to forge a path to the waiting car.

On the ride back to the prison, I relished the sight and smell of temporary freedom. I made a point of remembering the passing palm trees, bright sidewalks, and polished buildings. I thought of Karen and Olivia, Mary and Jerry. I wanted to do so much for them. How I longed to be free. How different things would be if I could live on the outside again, but now as a Christian.

Dinner in the big house was pink-looking meatloaf, mashed potatoes the consistency of applesauce, wet spinach, cheap white bread, and good old H
2
0—all served on the finest of the detention center’s army-green meal trays. I ate with Donald Chambers, Rockwell, Scotty, and a couple of other friends.

Once back in my cell, I began having a difficult time taking a deep breath. I plopped down on my bunk, concentrating hard just to breathe and swallow normally. I couldn’t fathom life in this concrete confine. I began rocking, rubbing the top of my thighs. My face felt flushed. I was weak and sweating, a cold sweat.

Forcing myself up, I paced the perimeter of my cell, fighting to wake up from the nightmare of having my freedom stripped away. My knees were about to give out. I fell back on the bunk, pummeled by thoughts of lethal injection and the smell of my burning flesh in an electric chair.

What is happening to me?

It used to be that I didn’t care if I lived or died. But now I knew about hell—and heaven. And even though I had the promise of eternal life because of Christ, I did not want to die. I wanted Karen…a full life with her.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the blanket on my bunk.

Breathe deep.

“The Lord is my Shepherd… I shall not want.”

“Hey, man,” said Donald from outside my cell. “What goes on?”

“Nothing.” I avoided eye contact.

“Are you okay?”

I finally turned to face him and watched his eyes grow bigger. “You don’t look good. Want to go to the infirmary?”

“No,” I blurted, turning to face the concrete block wall. “I’m just dwelling too much about how this trial is going to play out.”

Donald moved as close as he could outside my cell. “I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t torture myself thinking about worst-case scenarios.”

“It’s hard not to. This is one of the first times I’ve really started worrying about what might be, what really could happen.”

Chambers held the cord to his billy club and twirled it as he spoke. “King David said, ‘I would have despaired unless I had believed I would see the goodness of the Lord.’ He was under a lot of pressure, too. So much that he was about to faint from despair, maybe like you feel. But one way or another, you are going to see the goodness of the Lord, Everett. Take rest in that.”