Looking For Trouble (6 page)

He didn't care what kind of wealth she was used to, or how fancy an upbringing she claimed to have, he could see that Madeline was a gold digger, and she was after his son's money. He recognized her insincerity for what it was, and he'd seen the same cunning manipulation in the eyes of many women over his lifetime. A handsome, powerful man like himself was used to women trying to get what they could, when they saw what they wanted. Women had been throwing themselves at him since he was a teenager. But there was only one woman who would ever own his heart, and that was Henrietta.

She was his soul mate, and the light that gave him strength. Isaiah was grateful that he had a good woman by his side, and he wanted the same blessing for his son.

Isaiah tuned out the Western playing on TV and thought about John's future. He was determined to help his son open the bank, and he would kill with his bare hands before he allowed anything or anyone to sideline all that John had worked so hard to achieve. He knew that he couldn't let John fall prey to the likes of Madeline King.

Just as surely as he could feel the slow-moving cancer working its way through his body, he knew that Madeline had no place in John's life, and she had to go. By any means necessary.

Chapter 9

A
lexandria's mind raced in a loop of “what if” circles and “could it be” riddles as she parked her small Toyota hybrid next to her parents' three-car garage. It was only an hour ago that she'd been sitting on her couch when it finally came to her whose voice she'd been hearing inside her head. It was time to figure out what it meant and what she was going to do about it. She had a million and one questions swirling through her mind, and she knew the only person who could help her begin to answer any of them was her mother.

Alexandria was so anxious she could barely grip her slender hand around the knob of the back door leading into her mother's kitchen. As she entered the house, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, causing her to pause her thoughts momentarily. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of her mother—decked out in a monogrammed apron draped over a knee-length bright yellow sundress—as she removed a batch of triple chocolate-chip cookies from the stainless-steel double oven. Victoria Small Thornton was, if nothing else, a one-of-a-kind woman.

Alexandria knew she owed a large debt of her natural beauty to her mother. Victoria had passed along a DNA strand that most people paid good money to manufacture. Her chocolate-colored skin was flawless, and her high cheekbones and smooth, even-tone complexion helped her maintain the look of a woman who appeared much too young to lay claim to having a grown daughter. And even though she ate any and everything she had a taste for, her tall, slim body was still in good shape, thanks to her very active lifestyle. As Alexandria assessed her mother, she knew she had a good future ahead of her, at least in the looks department.

“Hey, sweetie,” Victoria said with a warm smile as she scooped the cookies, one by one, off the metal tray and onto a plate to cool. “How is everything?”

Alexandria walked over to her mother and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Everything just got better, now that I see you made my favorite cookies in the entire world.” When she bit into the warm, sweet-tasting treat, she nearly forgot about the life-altering reason she'd rushed out of her apartment at breakneck speed.

“I take full blame for your sweet tooth,” her mother said with a small laugh. “I ate Godiva chocolate every day when I was pregnant with you.”

“I had some last night, along with some Ben and Jerry's.”

Victoria shook her head and laughed even harder. “That's a shame! But I bet it was good.”

“Delicious, actually.” Alexandria took another bite and then braced herself. “Mom, I need to have a serious talk with you.”

Victoria set her spatula and cookie tray to the side and stared at her daughter with concern. “Is it about Peter?”

The tone in which Victoria always said his name, as if she'd just inhaled the aroma of a rotten egg, let Alexandria know her mother didn't care for Peter. She'd never been rude to him—it was against her Southern upbringing and principles—but she'd never embraced him, either.

“We've been dating a year and you still don't like him, do you?” Alexandria said.

“I've never said I don't like Peter.”

“You don't have to. It's the way you say his name and look at him.”

“And how is that?”

“Like he gets on your nerves or something.”

Victoria nodded. “I probably do. But that doesn't mean that I dislike the boy.”

“Then what does it mean?”

Victoria placed her hand on the curve of her slender hip. “I've always tried to stay out of your and your brother's business when it comes to your relationships. You know that.”

“Yes, I know. And I appreciate it. But why don't you like him, Mom? He's educated, successful, handsome, and hardworking. I thought he's the kind of man you and Dad wanted for me.” Alexandria surprised herself by her sudden need to defend Peter, but then she knew that she was really defending herself—and the poor choice she'd made by staying in a dead-end relationship with him for so long.

“I appreciate all those qualities.”

“Okay, then why do you treat him with distance?”

“I want you to answer a question for me,” Victoria said, looking into eyes that mirrored her own. “Does he encourage your dreams?”

Alexandria returned her mother's stare, but she didn't say anything.

“One of the many things that made me fall in love with your father was that he encouraged me to follow my dreams. When I quit my cushy corporate job to plan events and throw parties, he was one of the first people in my corner cheering me on. Sweetie, I know how much you love performing spoken word and bringing your thoughts to life. You're a brilliant artist.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You need to be with someone who appreciates your talent and supports you in it. And from what I've seen, I just don't think Peter does that.”

Alexandria had never told her mother that Peter thought her passion was a ridiculous hobby, and now she was curious as to how her mother knew what had taken her months of dating him to figure out.

“He reminds me a lot of a guy I used to date years ago, in another lifetime,” Victoria said, speaking with a flash of emotion that Alexandria couldn't quite place. “He was a lot like Peter. He came from a well-heeled family. He was educated, very handsome, and successful. At the time, I thought he treated me well, but I soon came to realize that he thought my Ivy League education should've been put to use behind a desk in a shiny building, not in a kitchen behind a stove or making out seating charts for events.” She paused a moment and the indescribable emotion flashed across her face once again. “Trust me when I tell you, you need to be with someone who supports you and who's going to appreciate every part of you.”

Alexandria knew her mother was right. “Yes, I know, and, honestly, I think the expiration date with Peter has passed. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Victoria nodded. “Okay, good. I really don't want to talk about him, anyway.” She leaned against the counter. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Alexandria didn't know any other way to begin the conversation, so she blurted out a truth that was long overdue. “I've been hearing voices again.” She eyed her mother carefully, waiting for a reaction.

It had been more than sixteen years since Alexandria had uttered a word about the voices she often heard, and now—she wasn't just ready to talk about it—Alexandria was ready to take action. When she saw relief wash over her mother's face, she instantly knew she was going to get answers to her questions.

Her parents had discovered long ago that she had the gift of prophesy. They'd known she was a special child from the day she was born. She had been a small preemie who'd suffered health challenges at birth and had survived despite being very ill. After she recovered as a newborn, she'd never been sick another day in her life. Not even a sniffle or the slightest hint of a cold. But that wasn't the reason why Victoria and Ted Thornton knew their baby girl was special. They knew because of the things she said and did, and because of the voices she often heard.

 

The first time Alexandria told her parents that she'd heard voices speaking to her, they thought she had dreamed up imaginary friends, as lots of playful children did. But when she recited their conversations, which involved people, places, things, and, most upsetting of all, strange happenings and world events that a five-year-old couldn't have possibly understood, her parents took notice that something wasn't right.

But it wasn't until Alexandria's paternal grandmother died, and then a few months later her father suffered a heart attack—a condition Alexandria had actually predicted one Saturday morning before watching cartoons—did they realize their daughter had abilities that were beyond ordinary clairvoyance. And what they discovered next made them both look upon her with awe and protective carefulness.

After the drama of her grandmother's death and her father's health scare, Alexandria told her parents very matter-of-factly that her late grandmother had spoken to her. She told her to always take pride in the fact that she was born a beautiful little black girl and would grow into a strong woman. The irony of it all was that her father's mother had hidden the fact that she was half-black and had passed for white until the day she was buried six feet under. “Granny Carolyn told me that I'm a pretty little black girl just like she was, only I'm caramel and she was vanilla,” Alexandria had giggled to her parents' shock and disbelief. At the time, no one but Ted, Victoria, and one of Carolyn's lifelong best friends knew about that secret.

As the years went on, Alexandria's gift became stronger, and it allowed her to protect herself and her family. She began to take precautions that others might not have, because she could see what was coming.

During an end-of-term celebration at the private day school she'd attended, she didn't pile onto the large merry-go-round at recess with the other second-grade children in her class. She hadn't wanted to end up with a busted lip, gashed chin, or, worse, a broken rib, as several of her classmates experienced when a spoke dislodged in the play equipment's axle, sending all the children spiraling to the ground. Although she was a natural performer, she didn't participate in her fifth-grade class's production of
Cinderella
because one week into rehearsals, the entire cast came down with a terrible case of meningitis. And she was adamant one Friday evening that her mother should not attend a party that her event-planning and catering company, Divine Occasions, had organized. Alexandria even went to the great lengths of hiding Victoria's car keys, making her more than an hour late for the event. When Victoria finally showed up, she was greeted by police cars and yellow tape because two men had gotten into a scuffle that had escalated into gunshots and resulted in the shooting of several innocent bystanders, who caught stray bullets inside the restaurant where her party was taking place.

But the incident that had frightened her parents, as well as Alexandria herself, happened when Alexandria was eleven years old.

Victoria's best friend, Tyler Jacobs, had stopped by one evening to introduce the family to Samantha, his new fiancée, who'd come to visit from out of town. After an hour of chatting and laughter, the two were about to leave. Then Alexandria unknowingly brought the happy time to a screeching halt. She walked up to Samantha, took her by the hand, and said, “Ms. Samantha, I'm sorry about your sister.”

When Samantha asked Alexandria what she meant, Alexandria explained that she was sorry that Samantha's younger sister had died. Everyone stood around, looking bewildered by the shocking statement, especially given the fact that Samantha didn't have a sister. Two months later, Tyler delivered news that the woman who'd been carrying Samantha's father's baby had suffered a miscarriage, and that it had been a girl.

“Sweetie,” Victoria had said gently, looking into Alexandria's eyes after hearing that news, “how did you know about Samantha's sister?”

Alexandria glanced over at her father, who was sitting on the couch beside her mother. She took a deep breath before returning her mother's stare. “A voice told me.”

Victoria and Ted tried not to look disturbed by their daughter's revelation, but Alexandria could see that they were. And, more important, she could look into their eyes and actually read what lay behind them—fear.

Alexandria barely knew what to make of all the mysterious things she frequently saw and heard. Once she knew she'd frightened her parents, she didn't want to have any parts of her special gift. From that day forward, she stopped talking about the voices that spoke to her.

Over the next few weeks her mother tried to engage her in conversation about the premonition she'd had involving Samantha, but all Alexandria would say was “I don't want to talk about it.”

When Alexandria reached high school, her mother could sense that she was struggling with something. But whenever Victoria asked what was wrong, Alexandria dodged her questions by changing the subject and pretending things were fine. Now, years later, she could no longer deny or avoid the voices she heard, especially the one that had been whispering words into her ear for the past month.

 

Victoria looked at her daughter, removed her decorative apron, and laid it on the counter. “So you're hearing voices, huh?”

Alexandria nodded.

“Thank goodness you're finally opening up to me. C'mon, let's talk.”