Shadow of Death (5 page)

“Let's pay for him to get extra lives,” suggested Aneetra after Nate's tantrum about the game became infectious and rubbed off on the twins.

“Let's not.” It didn't matter that she could acquire a new set of five lives for only ninety-nine cents. It was still a waste of money. Though Aneetra offered to give her “a freakin' dollar,” Natalie would not give in. “No. He needs to know that acting crazy won't get him what he wants. It's time for them to go to bed anyhow.”

Natalie took the screaming twosome and left Nate in the care of Aneetra. Of course, there was nothing really wrong with Ean or Ebony. They were out almost as soon as they were laid in their cribs. Nate was a little more uncooperative and Natalie figured out why. In addition to being sleepy, he was acting out because he missed his father. When Aneetra offered to read him a story from one of his Spider-Man books, Nate cried that he wanted his daddy to do it. The poor child lay in his bed and literally cried himself to sleep.

“I didn't know Candy Crush was that serious,” said Aneetra.

“It wasn't Candy Crush. It's Troy. Earlier Troy promised to play a game with him when he got home.” Remembering this, Natalie started to wonder again if something bad had happened to her husband. He wasn't one to make promises to Nate and not keep them. Troy's role as a father and his word were too important to him. When she and Aneetra went back downstairs, Natalie was about to call CPD headquarters and grabbed her phone only to see that she had a text from Troy.

T
he blaring noise brought Troy to full consciousness as he awoke in a pitch-black room trying to make sense of his surroundings. The red light flashed on the ringing phone that sat on the nightstand next to the bed. Without giving it much thought, he answered it, if for no other reason than to stop the noise.

“Hi, Mr. Evans, this is the front desk with the wakeup call that you had requested.”

“Huh?”

“I have a note here that you asked for a six a.m. wakeup call this morning. When you're ready to check out, leave your key on the dresser. We'll charge the room to the credit card on file unless you have changes.”

Troy begrudgingly thanked the lady, trying to comprehend everything. If it wasn't for the sticker posted on the telephone, he wouldn't have even known what motel he was in. What day was it?
Friday
. No, that was yesterday. He tried to piece together how he'd gotten there. It was all coming back to him now. The phone call with Natalie…the gym…Naughty's Uzi tats…Will's BMW. The last thing Troy remembered was getting in his truck and her surprising him by sitting up in the backseat, holding a gun to his head.

“Get off at the next exit,” she'd ordered.

If he hadn't known her voice, he would not have immediately recognized her. The last time he'd seen her was about a year and a half ago when Natalie was about six months pregnant with the twins. Her hair was short then. It was long now; much longer than it had been when they dated. “Cheryl, what are you doing?”

“Do as I said or I'll pull the trigger. Get off!”

He obliged, more annoyed than scared. Once he pulled over and she stopped pointing that thing at him, his plan was to overpower her. It would be easy. She was almost an entire foot shorter than him and Troy was certain he could bench press her weight and then some. Taking that gun from her would be like snatching a pacifier from a baby. He simply had to get her and the gun from behind his driver's seat.

Troy never got the chance to enact his plan. He pulled over on the side of the street and all of a sudden, she pricked a needle in his shoulder. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the motel room with a major headache.

Troy jumped out of bed, thinking she could be lying beside him. She wasn't. He could see clearly into the bathroom. It was empty. Troy was angry and alone. When she called his cell phone only seconds later, he, in a not-so-Christian manner, asked what she'd done to him.

“That's no way to start off the morning, my dear. Did you get a good night's sleep?”

He opened the window to let natural light into the room and peeked out, wondering if he'd see her car nearby. His keys were on the dresser, underneath a black thong, which he carefully laid to the side with disgust.
“What did you do to me!”

“Not nearly as much as I wanted to.” She laughed and hung up.

Troy left the room, ignoring the “do not disturb” sign hanging outside on the door and deeply praying that he had not been violated. As he mashed the alarm on his key chain, trying to find his truck, he wondered about Natalie and how he would explain this to her. He could kill Cheryl right now. He was so mad that he would find joy in strangling her and watching the last breath of air leave her body. He'd resuscitate her only to repeat the process of choking her until she could no longer be brought back to life. When he was sure that her heart had been permanently stopped, he'd empty his gun into her chest simply for fun. The thought of murder became so appealing to the sworn officer of the law that he literally had to fight to clear his mind. Thoughts preceded actions, and such an action, for him, came with severe consequences. He was able to get a little help controlling his thoughts by recalling the New King James Version of Romans 12:2:
[D]o not be conformed
to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.
He wasn't convinced that God's perfect will was for him to take Cheryl's life. But, if there was the slightest possibility…

Finally!
Troy found his truck parked in front of the motel lobby. Before entering, he made sure to check the back seats. Empty. He really had to get his alarm fixed to keep Cheryl or anyone else from unauthorized access to his vehicle. Right now getting home to his wife and children took precedence and Troy raced through the city as fast as he could. When he arrived, he stayed parked in the garage for a while, trying to figure out the words to explain to Natalie about what had transpired. He was supposed to watch the kids while she went to the meeting. He'd told her that he was on his way home. Sure enough, she'd tried to call him. Troy saw the missed calls, but he didn't bother listening to the voice messages that he was certain were words of discontentment.

Troy walked in the house, glad that Natalie had secured the alarm. Sometimes she forgot and that worried him. He didn't want them in the house unprotected. Their home was eerily quiet. He wondered if Natalie had turned on the monitoring system so she could hear him come in. He expected her to charge down the stairs at any moment to rip him up one way and down another. He stood still, waiting for the confrontation. She didn't come.

Troy didn't know whether he should be relieved or worried. He held on to the granite island for strength for a few minutes before going upstairs. His head was pounding. What happened to him last night? How did Cheryl get him from the truck into that room? Did the drug she'd given him knock him out or merely inebriate him so that he'd be more cooperative? Had something sexual taken place between them? He had so many questions and frustratingly, no answers.

The thought of cheating on his wife, even unwillingly, made Troy sick. The walk up the stairs seemed to take forever. He felt like a dead man walking. In a way, he did feel like he was headed to his execution. Before entering his bedroom, he checked on all the kids as was his custom. Nate's room was decked out in Spider-Man and li'l man was still in a deep sleep. Ebony and Ean shared a room for now. When they got older, the plan was to move one of them into the fourth bedroom, which was currently more of a storage facility than anything else. Their nursery had a Disney theme, half Mickey Mouse, half Minnie. They looked so peaceful. Actually, all of his children did. Troy hated that he'd missed the chance to play with Nate last night. He'd been looking forward to spending that time with him. Cheryl had robbed him of that opportunity!

Troy took a deep breath and braced himself for the storm that was brewing inside his bedroom. To his surprise, Natalie lay asleep like a log. There was a note on his side pillow.

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my husband to keep

I pray the Lord my husband to protect

May he come home unharmed without any defects

When he finally lays down to rest

May he arise again and be at his best

—Love Always, Nat

Troy didn't understand. He knew Natalie well enough to know that she was livid last night when he didn't come home. Was this poem a trick? Was her goal to be so sickeningly nice to him that he would forever be burdened with guilt? He was at least comforted that it wasn't an angry letter waiting for him though he was sure there was still damage control to do. Her being fast asleep bought him some time to think about how to make amends for last night.

Troy needed to take a shower before getting into bed. He wasn't sleepy, but he wanted to lie next to and hold Natalie. Before stripping off his clothes, Troy plugged in his phone charger as the low battery alert had sounded. That's when he noticed the text message icon. There were two messages waiting on him. One was from Cheryl who wrote, “You're welcome.”

For what?
Troy thought, but didn't dare reply.

The other was from Natalie to say that she understood and that she loved him. It didn't make sense until he scrolled up and saw a message that he'd supposedly written to her.
Hey, babe. I'm soooooo sorry. I got called to a triple homicide on the way home.

So that explained why Natalie wasn't upset with him and left a nice poem. Was Cheryl's message her way of saying that he should be grateful that she made up a story to appease his wife? Unbelievable! Troy put down his phone and headed to the bathroom to shower. Before doing so, he inspected himself of any signs of sexual activity. There was no residue that he could see. Anxious to wash the stench of whatever had gone on last night off of his body, Troy jumped in the hot water, determined that the first chance he got, he was going to Cheryl's superior. When Troy finally got in the bed, his movement stirred Natalie.

“I'm glad you're home. I love you,” she said in a still-half-asleep voice.

“I love you, too, babe,” he responded and held her close.

L
ater that Saturday afternoon, Troy and Natalie took their children downtown to Columbus Commons, the community nine-acre park located on the site that once housed the City Center mall before it was demolished. It was a nice open area with various family activities, featuring a twenty-seat carousel, café, free fitness classes, special concert events, and a reading room, which was a section of tables covered with umbrellas. It was Natalie's idea to go there. Troy's head still hurt so he wasn't feeling up to par. He'd speculated about the type of drug Cheryl had injected him with to cause such a side effect. In light of the recent incident with her, Troy didn't want to take his family anywhere until he made a visit to the local FBI office, but Natalie was in such a good mood. He didn't want to ruin her day by disclosing all the secrets he'd kept from her about Cheryl the last two years. Besides, either way, Troy's visit to the FBI would have to wait until Monday morning.

It was a little known secret that Columbus even had an FBI office. It was termed a residency agency rather than a field office. This meant that it wasn't listed on the national website and unfortunately, for Troy, it wasn't open twenty-four-seven. He would have gladly found an excuse to delay this family outing if it meant being able to get Cheryl off his back for good.

Troy had mixed feelings about how populated the park was. On one hand, he felt safe with the crowd. Cheryl would be beyond stupid to target him or his family in such an open space. On the other hand, a lot of people meant too many uncontrollable elements. What if Cheryl was hiding somewhere in the midst of all these people? It would be like her to pop up unexpectedly and engage Natalie in a conversation simply to put him on edge.

At first, Troy thought that a young, middle-aged Caucasian gentleman was being polite when he spoke to them, until Troy continued to see the man gazing at him and his family. He sat at a table with a black baseball hat pulled down to the middle of his forehead. He held a newspaper as though he was reading, but Troy caught the man several times intensely staring at them. The guy looked away every time. Troy bore his eyes into him so intensely that the man finally got up and left.

After that incident, Troy was having a hard time holding it together. He swore that everyone was staring at his family. In addition, he thought he'd seen a glimpse of Cheryl in every direction he turned, but when he'd blink and look again, she would be gone. It wasn't humanly possible for Cheryl to go from the north side of the Commons to the south side in the short time it took him to turn his head from one end to the other. His paranoia was starting to get the best of him and Troy wanted nothing more than to get his family home to safety. What made things even creepier was that some kid walked by with old school rap music blaring through his headphones. It was the song “My Mind's Playing Tricks on Me” by the Geto Boys.

“Here comes your friend.”

At the prompting of his wife's voice, Troy looked and saw Will walking toward them.

“Hey, man! What's going on?” The two bumped fists and Will said hello to Natalie and the kids. Troy was not surprised to see Will in tight workout gear showing off his tats. On one arm, Will had a tattoo of a black panther and on the other, he had a tiger. Troy never cared enough to ask him the meanings. Will seemed to love wearing things that accentuated his muscles and brought attention from the ladies, something he and Fudago had in common. Troy refused to look at Natalie for fear that she might be staring harder than he would feel comfortable with. He kept his focus on Will, whose glossy eyes indicated that he'd spent some quality time with herb recently.