When Perfection Fails (9 page)

Visions of the man with the pale eyes from the funeral disturbed her as she slept. Lenora shot up in the bed, trying to grasp the man's identity and at the same time shake away the dream. Jonathan stirred next to her. She tried to control her breathing by gulping in air. Her husband turned on to his back without waking up. Lenora focused on Jonathan's broad chest rising up and down until she felt her own body calm down from the dream.

She had fallen asleep easily, not hearing when Jonathan slipped into bed. Lenora hated to push him away last night. Everything in her wanted to talk to him, but how could she explain that she was involved in a hit-and-run accident? No, she wasn't the driver, but she certainly didn't insist on finding help or a way to come forward either.

After Charmayne left yesterday, it was hard for Lenora to concentrate on her brides as her guilt rose back to the surface. She was always the one who kept order, but her life was slowly unraveling from a past transgression.

It occurred to her last night as she lay wrapped in the blanket how visible both she and Charmayne were to the public. When Jonathan took over as interim pastor, the role shot their family into the spotlight. Over the past few years, local, state, and even national media had featured stories about the growing church.

It dawned on Lenora that Charmayne was right. They needed to figure out who was behind this. She wouldn't let something she did or didn't do affect her family and the church.

Lenora looked at the clock which read six o'clock. She quietly peeled herself from the bedsheets so she could get herself together. By the time Lenora had taken a shower, she decided she would assign her afternoon appointments to her other consultants. After yesterday, she needed to touch base with Charmayne as soon as possible.

She went downstairs and grabbed her phone from her purse and started to dial Charmayne's phone number, but then she thought it was best to wait. There was no way Charmayne would be up this time of morning. Really, Lenora wasn't ready to be emotionally charged by her friend. She was still trying to process.

About an hour later, Lenora sat at the table with her cup of coffee when Jonathan entered the kitchen. Their eyes met. She said, “Good morning.”

Jonathan grabbed a cup. “Is it a good morning, Lenora?”

“Yes, it's a good morning. It will be a good day. Today, I'm taking Candace cake tasting.”

“Sounds like fun.” Jonathan poured some coffee.

Lenora smiled slightly. “I'm looking forward to something fun.” Her husband had no idea how much she needed to distract herself from the thoughts running through her mind.

Jonathan drank from his cup and observed her as if something was on his mind. He finally revealed his thoughts. “Mother thought it might be time for her to go home. I thought you might need some help around the house, especially with Keith getting rest for his rib cage. That boy certainly doesn't know how to stay still.”

“He never did. Keith was always into something,” Lenora replied. “Even I know the boys are old enough to take care of themselves, but I know it does Eliza some good to be around them.” Lenora couldn't believe those words had come out of her mouth.

“Good. I told her she could stay as long as she needed to, and that we were all here for her.” Jonathan took a swallow of his coffee.

“Of course.” Lenora didn't have the energy to argue with Jonathan's statement. It sounded like he'd already made up his mind about his mother's extended stay. “I'm going to check on Keith and get Michael off to school.”

Jonathan drained his coffee and placed it in the sink. Then he grabbed his keys. “All right, well, I hope we can talk later.” He turned and went out the door leading to the garage.

Lenora stood still and listened to Jonathan start the car. When did they stop doing their morning ritual of kissing each other good-bye before leaving the house? They barely touched each other, and both were guilty of sleeping someplace else in the house other than their shared bed. And when they were lying next to each other, there was a gap of space between them.

Lenora shook herself into motion and began preparing breakfast for the boys. She whipped up some oatmeal, adding cinnamon, walnuts, and cranberries to the lumping mixture. Lenora poured orange juice and placed it next to the bowl of steaming oatmeal. She had grabbed the tray and headed upstairs when she heard her cell phone ring. Trying to figure out if she should take the plate to Keith or answer the phone, she opted to leave the phone.

She balanced the tray and knocked on her oldest son's bedroom door. After she heard him call out, she entered. “Here you go, young man.”

“Breakfast in bed. Thanks, Mom. I appreciate this.”

“Enjoy! You know the wedding season is about to pounce on me. I wanted to be able to make sure you were set before I left.”

Keith winced as he sat up in bed. “I'm good. Yeah, I talked to Rachel. She said her mom and the other women were trying on dresses yesterday. It's cool her mom is getting married again.”

“Yes, it is nice to be able to find love again. Rachel and her family have been through a lot, and she really likes Detective Darnell. You are going to love how Rachel looks in her bridesmaid dress. Beautiful!”

Keith grinned. “I bet. I'm looking forward to wearing the tux.”

Candace and Angel had shown concern for Lenora after Charmayne left yesterday. She hated that she was so visibly shaken to her clients and friends. Lenora asked Keith, “Did you and Rachel talk about anything else?”

Keith frowned. “No. Why?”

Lenora shook her head “Nothing. Look, I need to get your brother up so he won't be late. You know Grandma Eliza will be here if you need something. She will be glad to help, but don't get too used to this maid service, young man.”

Keith grinned. “I don't know. I'm liking this.”

Lenora laughed and swatted him.

She left and walked toward Michael's bedroom door. “Michael, are you up?” Lenora listened for a grunt. She opened the door and saw her youngest son still in the bed. She could barely see his head. “Michael, get up so I can get you dropped off on time. I have breakfast downstairs waiting on you.”

Michael pulled the comforter all the way over his head.

“Don't let me come over there and have to pull you out of the bed. You are way too old for that. If you intend to drive more, you need to prove responsibility.”

Lenora heard a muffled, “All right.”

She headed back to the kitchen remembering she needed to check her phone. A Missed Call displayed on the phone alongside a notification that a voice mail had been left. Lenora looked at the number. It belonged to Charmayne. She had wanted to call Charmayne earlier. They needed to talk and figure out what to do together.

She pressed Play on the voice mail, but Charmayne didn't leave a message.
That figures!
She dialed Charmayne's number. The phone rang and rang.

After the voice mail greeting kicked in, Lenora said, “Charmayne, it's me, Lenora. I saw you just called, and I guess we're on the same page. I've been thinking you're right. We need to put our heads together and figure this out. To tell you the truth, and I know you don't want to hear this, but I think we need to let others know. This could have ramifications that we can't control. I'll swing by later this afternoon, so hopefully, you've pulled yourself together after yesterday. Bye.”

As she ended the call, Michael entered the kitchen. His jeans were slung just a little too low for Lenora's taste.

“Do you have a belt for those pants? Let me fix you a bowl of oatmeal. You have some time to eat.”

“Naw, Ma! I'm good. It would be nice to drive myself.”

Lenora frowned. “We have two cars, and your dad is still thinking about getting you a car, but you have to show a little bit more responsibility. Like getting up without me having to practically push you out of the bed. Are you sure you aren't hungry?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I'm good. Let's go.”

She eyed him. “Okay. Why don't I let you drive to school, and we'll switch seats when I drop you off?”

Michael nodded and held out his hands for the car keys. Lenora placed her keys in his hands, and then they exited through the kitchen door leading to the garage.

As Michael drove, Lenora would have normally watched his every move, but was distracted with how her meeting with Charmayne would go later. It still felt like Charmayne wasn't telling her something. In fact, Lenora was pretty sure Bishop Hudson was a shrewd man and would have gotten all the details he needed from Charmayne. It was only a month before their high school graduation when the parties and celebrations were plentiful. The Charmayne who would sneak out of the house didn't attend not one party after the accident.

Her car being in the shop wasn't a reason, because Charmayne was known to get around and show up in places she had no business being at long before she had her own car. Lenora remembered Charmayne had the car back in time for graduation. She drove up in the parking lot not too long after Lenora and her mother arrived in time to line up for the graduation march.

Lenora blinked away the memories to focus on Michael as he turned on the right signal. North Valley High School came into view. Her son pulled into the drop-off lane and shifted the gears to park, but he didn't make a move to leave the car.

She touched her son's shoulder. “Mikey, what's wrong?” She knew he didn't really like being called by his nickname, but she glimpsed her little boy in her son's intense brown eyes.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Lenora removed her hand from Michael's shoulders and placed her hands in her lap. “Yes. I just have a lot going on, but you know I'm here for you. What's bothering you?”

“Are you and Dad good?”

Lenora waited a moment before responding. She certainly wasn't expecting that question. Tears appeared in her eyes as she watched her son's face droop. He was waiting for her to say something. Both of her sons had features from their father, but Michael really was the spitting image of Jonathan. She cleared her throat. “Your father and I are fine. Why would you ask that, honey?”

“Something is different, and it's been different for a while.”

“It's been an adjustment with Dad taking over the church for Granddaddy, but we are going to be okay. Don't worry about us. Your father and I will be here for you and your brother. Now go inside before you're late for your first class.”

Michael took another look at his mom, and then grabbed his bag before exiting the car. Lenora walked around the car and watched her son enter the building. She didn't think her heart could sink any deeper. Her sensitive young son knew something was off with his parents. She could only hope with Keith being away at college, that he hadn't noticed anything either.

Lenora got inside the car and wiped her tears away. She would talk to Michael later. Maybe it was time for her and Jonathan to have a family sit-down. Before she could work on her marriage or ease her son's fear, she had to deal with a situation that could change the way the men in her life viewed her forever.

Serena placed her bag on the floor by her desk. “It's about time.” She reached for the envelope on her desk. It shouldn't have taken this long to get documents that were public record. She thought about returning to Charmayne Hudson's office yesterday to make demands. Serena had no problem stirring up trouble, if needed.

She looked around the newsroom before opening the envelope. If what she thought was in here, she was going to pitch the story to Alan James, her news producer. This was the kind of story Serena would enjoy for many months of investigation and right up to the finale. Would this story lead to someone's arrest, trial, and possible jail time?

The folder that Lance Ryan had given her on Monday was in a locked file drawer. She unlocked the drawer and placed his documents alongside the reports she pulled out of the envelope. With a pencil and ruler, Serena marked both pages to record matching donation amounts.

“Well, I'll be.” Her eyes went back and forth from one document to the other. There were some considerable differences. Almost a three hundred fifty thousand-dollar difference on what was publicly reported.
Where did the money go?

Serena grabbed the papers and stuffed them in a folder. She headed over to an office in the corner of the newsroom and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Alan said. Her news producer looked up from his monitor and leaned back in his chair. As he rubbed his eyes, Alan asked, “What's up with the Cheshire grin on your face, Serena? This better be good.”

“Good enough to set a fire under my feet. Take a look at these.” She handed him the documents. “Look at my markings and let me know what you see.”

Alan picked up his reading glasses from the desk and placed them on the tip of his nose.

Serena sat and tried to keep from tapping her fingers on the side of the chair while Alan digested the figures.

After a few minutes, he eyed her over his narrow glasses. “Are these documents both supposed to represent the funds raised for the Hudson Housing Development Project?”

“Uh-huh.” She raised her eyebrow. “Not quite adding up, huh?”

“Is your source to be trusted? Is he saying his report is the original? How did he get it?”

Good question!
Serena pondered how to describe Lance Ryan to her news producer. She opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Should she admit that she had some reservations about the guy? If she did, Alan wouldn't let her run with this story. Serena was almost sure there was an underlying reason as to why Lance sought her out to take on this story.

Alan took his glasses off. “Serena, you're taking too long to answer my question. You don't know anything about him, do you?”

She closed her eyes. “He's a bit . . . weird. You have to admit he solidified some suspicions about this widely publicized project. I mean, you saw earlier this week, Mayor Carrington doesn't want to touch this project. He dodged my questions at the press conference like his life depended on it, but he was very supportive of this project until Bishop Hudson's death. I mean, come on, the mayor pulled back for some reason. Suppose something came up after the bishop's death, like some mishandling of funds?”

A thought jolted Serena as she talked. She expressed her thoughts out loud. “You know, the bishop had a sudden heart attack. He was working out deals to move the development forward up until the day he died.”

Alan rocked back in his seat. “Whoa, Serena, let's slow down. You jumped to a whole other scenario. I agree about getting to the bottom of why the city council is battling over this hot-button topic right now. That's the real story. We need to be good journalists.”

Serena snapped. “What? I pride myself on delivering the facts, Alan. We do have to ask the hard questions.”

“Yes, but don't go into conspiracy mode. We have to alert the public to our findings. Do you know how wide and deep the love is for Bishop Hudson in this state, even outside of this state? We need to know more about your source. Not that you will reveal him. But we need to know how he obtained these documents. I mean, what if your source fudged this report, and we shared this with the public? Our heads will be on a platter for reporting erroneous information. You know better, Serena.”

Serena did her best to keep her face looking natural, but she wasn't too happy with Alan calling her out as if she was some rookie. She smiled sweetly. “What do you suggest, Alan?”

“I suggest you either get with your source again or if you think you can do this without sparking a hailstorm, visit council member Charmayne Hudson. Ask her questions.”

“I met with Ms. Hudson on Monday. She sent me this report four days later.”

“So what do you think? She fudged the numbers?”

“I don't know. When I talked to her, she seemed convinced that taxpayer dollars were needed for this development to move forward. She could be oblivious to this report with the drastically higher number of donations.”

Alan interjected. “You can't tell with politicians. They want to protect their image. It's an election year, and we know how fun those can be when stories like this become public. See what else you can dig up. If you have something more solid, let's prepare to hit the airwaves with our findings.”

Serena stood. “No worries. I got this story.”

Alan pointed to her, “Keep me posted and don't get in trouble on this one. You've had a few too many close calls in the past, Serena. By the way, the mayor sent in a complaint about you.”

“A complaint?”

“Yes, we'll let Wes cover the mayor's press conferences for a while.”

Serena opened her mouth to protest, but Alan held up his hand. “Get to your story, Serena. Bring us something we can actually put on the air.”

She grimaced and closed Alan's door behind her. Did she really need him to remind her of her past transgressions? She was known to take a story a bit too far, but she had felt each of those times that it was necessary to push toward the edge. Wes was a really good reporter, but she wasn't too pleased about being pushed out of covering city hall. I guess she finally pushed the mayor over the edge.

Serena headed back to her desk. She was exhilarated by the possibilities of this story, but Alan did mirror the fears she already had. This Lance Ryan fellow could be a problem. Serena thought back to the other day. Lance was lingering around city hall and observed as she entered the elevator with Charmayne. Then there was the creepy elevator ride with him. What was the man's agenda?

She had two choices to move forward with this story. She could either contact Lance to get him to come clean or touch base with Charmayne again.

Charmayne was a big risk. She didn't want to go to the councilwoman with the discrepancies. It could backfire badly. Did Charmayne strike her as the kind of person who would be cocky enough to hide the real financial records? She was the daughter of a prominent bishop. Then again, that same prominent bishop was responsible for generating these fund-raisers. What role did the now-deceased Bishop Hudson play in this scenario?

Serena pulled out her phone and looked for Lance Ryan's number. She found it and dialed.

“What?” Serena pulled the phone away from her ear. She ended the call and dialed again. The same out of service message played. Serena stared at her phone. “Unbelievable.”

It didn't take long to figure out which direction to pursue first. Her number-one priority was to locate her missing-in-action source, Mr. Lance Ryan.