Like Sheep Gone Astray (29 page)

“I want you to have fun. If it's not listed in a travel brochure, don't do it.”

“Yes, Mona, but you must promise me the same.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek as they departed in different directions, agreeing to meet later in the day for dinner. Kent walked to the nearby lighthouse attraction and waved good-bye from the end of the line. Once she was out of view he searched for the pay phone. He used his calling card to make the long-distance call.

“Malloy speaking.”

“Gary, it's me.”

“Kent, how's your vacation going? Are you getting some rest?”

“Yeah, sure. Just checking in about the case. Any new-developments?”

“Nothing major, although I keep crossing paths with that preacher you mentioned before, Anthony Murdock. And he's been keeping suspicious company with that black politician, Walter Banks.”

“Yeah? I knew politics was involved with whatever scam Murdock's trying to pull.”

“I'm agreeing with you. You've been saying that all along. I should have been listening.”

“I need to come back.”

“No, Kent. Stay where you are and keep your wife happy. I'm keeping an eye on both Murdock and Banks myself now. Don't worry. If and when things go down, I'll let you know. You got your cell phone on?”

“No, it seems to have disappeared.”

“Well, check back with me when you can. And we're still looking into who was behind that hit-and-run.”

“Thanks, Gary.”

Kent hung up the phone, but the unsettledness that had driven him to make the call had only increased its fury. Something he couldn't put his finger on was gnawing away at his nerves.

“Maybe I really do just need to relax,” he muttered to himself while picking up a few pamphlets from a welcome table. He studied a calendar of events posted with an array of things to do. After picking out a couple of activities for the rest of the weekend, he got back in the lighthouse-tour line.

“Mona will be happy.”

Kent turned to the two senior men behind him and joined their discussion about the best fishing holes on the East Coast.

A silver Audi sped away as Terri made the right turn into the driveway. She did not miss Anthony disappearing quickly into the garage.

“So he's got more than one woman coming in and out of my house?” Terri was certain Gloria Randall had neither the means nor the mind-set to own such a flashy car. She pulled her Lexus right behind Anthony's BMW. He was not going to find a way out of there before she finished with him.

“You!” She screamed at his back, her finger pointing, shaking with rage. No words came for a second as Anthony turned to face her, a folder tucked into his hands.

“Terri? Hey, baby, how are you? Seems like I haven't talked to you forever, and we really need to talk.” Anthony had a calm smile on his face that turned into a slightly questioning look as Terri wiggled out of his embrace. “Is that a new car?” he asked.

Hot tears fell down her face as words failed her. And then, after a deep breath, her voice was a controlled stabbing. “I want a divorce. I know everything. I know what you've been up to. I read your letter.” She flashed the open page she'd taken from Pastor Green's study as she spoke.

Anthony's jaw dropped.
The letter! How did she get that?
More importantly, how was he supposed to explain everything right then? This was not the scenario he'd had in mind when he'd pictured breaking the news of his crimes to Terri. She was not waiting for an explanation.

“I don't know why you decided to get involved with all these different people, but the very first time you made that choice was the day you chose to end our marriage. What kind of ring are you running? You are worse than a whore, because at least a prostitute gets paid for what she does. You, on the other hand, are paying out to get what you want.”

“Terri, I've been set up. I'm not the one running—”

She cut him off with a hand. “Yeah, I was at the banquet the other night. I know about all your money. You were keeping it a secret from me so you could keep handing it out to everyone else. How much are you paying Gloria? Gloria Randall? Why of all people did you have to get her involved with your sick self? And how much did you give the driver of that Audi that just left? Yes, I saw the quick getaway. You thought you could keep everything a secret from me?” She thought of every name she could call him and then realized she was thinking them out loud. Anthony shuddered under the creative combination of obscenities and names she put together.

“Listen, Terri, I—”

“How could you do this to me? Did you ever stop once to think about how I would feel? How could you do this to us? All that we built up together? Our house, our savings, our plans for the future! You've thrown it all away, and for what? I hope you're prepared to lie in the bed you made, 'cause you certainly ain't laying in mine anymore! Forget the fact that you call yourself a man of God. You ain't even a man. You ain't even worth one more second of my time.” Her back turned, a middle finger in its place as she tore away.

“Terri, wait!” The shock in Anthony's voice took a second to catch up with his feet. Terri was already getting into her car when he reached her. “Terri, listen. You're right, and I'm so sorry, baby. I was wrong to get caught up with the money and I only made things worse by getting others involved. Believe me, I'm sorry. But Terri, you've got to give me a chance to fix things.”

The motor started with a roar as she yanked the door shut. Anthony shouted through the closed window.

“I'm trying to fix things now, or rather Jesus is showing me what to do. I know it will be hard, we may lose everything, but we can work through this. Together. I've been a living Samson, but Delilah can't trick me anymore. I know that sounds crazy, but let me explain. Terri—”

She had the car in reverse, her hand whipping over the passenger seat, her head facing the back window.

“With God's help we can get through this! We may lose everything, but I promise we'll get it back, and much more, God's way! Terri, wait! I need to talk to you! Don't go! Don't leave like this! What about our vow to stay together no matter what?” He watched her back out onto the street and pull away with a loud screech. His voice fell to a whisper. “What about the baby?”

Anthony's eyes followed the red Lexus until it and Terri disappeared out of view. He refused to let despair or panic find a seat inside of him. He was determined to stand and fight. The battle had found its way into his home and he was not going to let himself get beaten up in his own front yard.
Confidence.

“Show me what to do, Lord.” Anthony looked down at the folder still in his hands. The birth certificate. He found the words that had caught his attention right before Terri came. The birthplace of his father, Charles A. Murdock. It was not Shepherd Hills. He was born in Sharen, South Carolina. Anthony did not remember his mother ever mentioning that Charles was from her parents' hometown.

“What do I do?”

Start at the beginning.

Anthony still had to return to Sister Porter's house and meet with Councilman Banks that afternoon. Find time to eat, schedule time to rest. If he left by midnight, no later than one the following morning, assuming no traffic, he would be in Sharen in time for Sunday visiting hours at Haven Ridge Nursing Home.

“Listen to me.” Nikki half pushed, half dragged Eric to one of the few seats that still had all four legs. “I think I know how we can get to the bottom of this. I can help you.” Even as she spoke, she wiped black marker stains from the palms of Devin's hands and kicked a crowbar out of view.

“Nikki, I appreciate your concern, but I think it's best if you let me take care of all this. I know CASH has some enemies, particularly from the business community, who want to use the land we're claiming for their own profits. I've learned from experience that they'll stop at nothing to beat us.”

Nikki's face wrinkled as he spoke.
He thinks this is about business. Stupid.

“Eric, I really think I can help you.” She got down on her knees to get her eyes level with his and gave him two slow bats with her lashes, complete with sparkling tears. “Please, Eric, let me help you.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she gently took his thick, dry hands into hers, careful not to scratch him with her new nails.

“Nikki, I—”

“Devin, get your butt back here!” The sudden outburst allowed Eric just enough opening to ease from her grip, but her voice softened and eyes glistened once more as she turned back to face him. “I'm sorry, Eric. What were you saying?”

“I appreciate your concern, but there's really nothing you can do. Why don't you go on home? All this broken wood and glass, it's not safe for your son to be around this.”

Nikki was not going to give up so easily. She needed Eric on her side for her plan to work. “It's not about what I can do, it's about what I know.”

“What do you know, Nikki?” Eric decided to humor her as he began picking through the destruction, sorting trash from salvageables.

“I went to a dinner last night”—she picked her words carefully—”and all these people there were talking about their new businesses. At first I wasn't paying too much attention, but then I kept hearing them talk about the location of all their upcoming building projects, and it sounded like the same place where Bethany Village is supposed to be built.”

Eric slowly put down the white trash bag he'd filled halfway. “What was this dinner? Did you catch any names of these businesses?”

“Well, it was some kind of fancy dinner for this group called the Black Entrepreneurs Alliance. I didn't get all their names, but I know that there was a man with a jewelry store. He had like all this gold and diamonds, I mean some serious bling. And then there was some kind of tax-service business. Oh, and then this man talked about a big, fancy hotel he was building—”

“The Empress Hotel. Reginald Savant.” Eric cut in. “I've heard of the other businesses you mentioned, but I know specifically about the hotel. I did not know they were all related, but that does not surprise me. Six months ago, when CASH lost the bid over the Stonymill expansion project, Reginald Savant approached me with other locations where CASH could build. He presented me with this whole elaborate package, like he'd done a lot of research, but when I looked into the lots he offered, they were of such poor quality I wouldn't build an outhouse on them.”

“So you know Mr. Savant?” He was falling for it head and feet first. Nikki kept the solemn look on her face as she urged him to continue.

“When I found out about his proposed hotel, I understood why he was so adamantly for the Stonymill light rail stop. What I did not understand was why he took such a personal interest in the affairs of CASH, especially since we were competing for the same land. I never trusted that man. Too smooth, too polished, like it was a very well-practiced act. I've never trusted people like him.”

“I hear you on that. I hate phony people, and that Reginald Savant seems about as phony as they come.”

“But Mommy, I thought—”

“But like I was saying,” Nikki quickly interrupted, pulling Devin into the side of her leg, “they was all talking about their building projects and I heard someone say, ‘But what about CASH' and I think that Reggie guy said something like ‘That's being taken care of.’]“

Eric was quiet, letting the words sink in as Nikki looked on expectantly.

“Reggie may be phony, but he strikes me more as a businessman than a tough guy.” Eric looked around the room. Splintered wood, shards of glass, scattered paper. “He seems like the type of man who wouldn't want to dirty up his fingernails or mess up his pretty suit.”

“You don't think he'd try to bring CASH down?”

“I'm sure there are many who want to bring CASH down. That's why I'm depending on Jesus to bring us through. I've got”—his voice broke as he listened to himself—”I
had
the prayers of many and the support of local churches. And having some political backing hasn't hurt us either. Walter Banks has made it clear to the city council time and time again that CASH has his utmost support.”

“That doesn't surprise me.” Nikki thought as she spoke. “I used to work in his office, and the things he did, the schools and families he helped, he seemed like a man of the people.” She wondered if the outcome of her present assignment would be better or worse than that of her previous assignment.

Nikki had stopped working for the councilman abruptly, but it was necessary. Things had gotten too risky. She had started making too many mistakes. Good thing she'd left when she had, or the whole plan could have been blown.

“Yeah, I thank God for him. He's been my biggest ally. He has always—What's wrong, Nikki?”

A look of confusion had suddenly appeared on her face.

“He's supporting you? That can't be right.” She was remembering Walter Banks standing on the stage next to the rich preacher, nicknamed Target X by
that man.

“He was at the dinner last night. The emcee introduced him and a man named Anthony Murdock as the biggest political and financial supporters of all the businesses there.” Nikki stopped talking. Why was Walter Banks out there supporting the BEA? Her plan wasn't going to work.
I should have just keyed up that pretty black Jaguar and slapped the mess out of that woman.
She was having second thoughts.

“Someone called the police?” A uniformed man stood in the doorway.

Eric smiled for the first time in hours. “Yes, I did.”

Nikki froze as Eric circled around her to the office door. She really had not thought this through. She turned with her sexiest smile to face the two police officers entering the broken office suite, wondering how she'd missed Eric dialing 911. She'd only left him once for two minutes to take Devin to the rest room. It never crossed her mind that Eric would get the police involved.

“Whew, what happened here?” One of the officers spoke, carefully stepping over the shards of glass and chunks of wood. The static of their walkie-talkies seemed to add more confusion to the overturned room.

Before Eric could respond, another officer appeared at the door.