by H. H. Fowler
She reached for her cell and was about to start her search, but was inconveniently interrupted by a call coming in from Officer Steve Mitchell. Yasmine rolled her eyes, but she was also curious to know what he had to say concerning Ronnie and his upcoming trial.
“It sounds like you’re adjusting to Tampa quite nicely,” Mitchell greeted.
“Do I have a choice?” Yasmine retorted.
“Don’t complain, because you could have been in prison for perjury.”
“But I have agreed to testify in court against Ronnie, haven’t I? So, it seems to me we both got what we wanted.”
“Not exactly,” Mitchell said.
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Dewey’s lawyer has assisted him with posting a cash bond of fifty thousand dollars.” Those words sounded as if they were a strain for Mitchell to say. After a month of dead ends and seeming to fight a losing battle against Dewey’s artfulness, Mitchell was almost ready to give up. They’d turned Dewey’s house upside down, took his electronic devices apart only to discover that there was nothing connecting him to that fire. Dewey had said that he would become Mitchell’s worst nightmare and Mitchell was beginning to believe it.
Mitchell continued in a discouraged tone. “Dewey’s lawyer has also managed to push the trial back another three months, claiming that he needs more time to prepare his case and could not properly represent his client based on the initial date given.”
“And the judge agreed to that? That means I could be in Tampa for six months.” Yasmine didn’t want to panic, but she couldn’t help it. “That also means Ronnie is back on the streets and will be looking for me. Might as well say I’m dead!”
“Don’t go having a heart attack on me,” Mitchell said. “As long as you remain in the witness protection program, it will be difficult for Mr. Dewey and his men to track you down.”
“So you believe me now? Because I’ve been telling you that Ronnie is an extremely dangerous man. He always gets his way.”
“Well…” Mitchell sounded as if he was shuffling some papers in front of him. “According to what we’ve gleaned over the last month, it is enough to say that we will be keeping a close watch on him. Are you aware of his former affiliation with the Island Bloods?”
“Yes, but I did not know how deep he was into it. However, he supposedly walked away from it when he became a Christian at one of Rev. Henderson’s tent revival meetings. As I’d explained to you, my mother was responsible for training new converts and Ronnie ended up in our front room two nights a week, his visits increasing every week. Seven months later, he and my mother were talking about marriage. And as they say, the rest is history. But why should I be acquainted with the Island Bloods?”
“You should, because they are very much alive – even after twenty-five years in operation. And from my experience in law enforcement, Ms. Strummer, it is very rare for gang members to walk away without some form of retaliation from the group. The survival of such gangs thrives on acquiring new recruits. My guess is: Mr. Dewey never really abandoned the Island Bloods…”
“The strange way Ronnie had been acting over the last seventeen years of my life,” Yasmine said, “I could believe you.”
“In some way,” Mitchell continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Dewey is still controlling the group’s movements, however subtle they are. I don’t have proof yet, but I’m convinced that he is behind that fire at El Shaddai Ministries.”
“Wait…” Yasmine slid to her feet. “There has been a fire? How come I’m just hearing about this? El Shaddai Ministries was Ronnie’s life. He told me himself that he would destroy anyone who tried to get in the way of him succeeding Rev. Henderson as the next bishop. You saw what he drove me to do to get rid of Drake. So I can tell you right now, your suspicions about him are spot on. Ronnie started that fire to send a message.”
“And what message is that?”
“That he’s still in charge.”
“Ms. Strummer, I would be pretty ticked off if Mr. Dewey had ended up killing four hundred people just to prove such a silly point.”
“Look how many people lost their lives when terrorists drove two huge jets into the Twin Towers. People kill for all sorts of silly reasons.”
“You have a point –” Mitchell’s response was disturbed by Drake Beckford, pushing open the door of his office. How coincidental, Mitchell thought to see the man whose name Yasmine had not too long ago mentioned in her rant. “Ms. Strummer, I have to cut this conversation short,” he said. “But please, do me a favor. Even though I’m confident you will be safe in the witness protection program, be vigilant when you leave the apartment. Survey your surroundings and always carry your cell phone along with you. In any event, I will beef up the security measures around your movements. You are our main weapon against Mr. Dewey, who will help us put him away for a long time, possibly for good.”
Yasmine disconnected from Mitchell with a dampened spirit. Suddenly, all of her plans of enjoying her newfound freedom came crashing to the ground. How in the hell was Ronnie able to post a cash bond of fifty thousand dollars when he was only paid twelve hundred dollars a month as one of El Shaddai’s senior leaders? Coming up with all of that money in such a short time was proof that Ronnie still actively ran along with that ruthless gang of sharks. At the rate things were going, she would never be free of that monster.
Yasmine walked over to the mirror and stared at her growing baby bump. If the forensics examiner was correct about how far along she was, she would be entering into the second trimester by the end of the month. Still time for her to get an abortion. How could she even think about bringing this baby to full-term, much less having to raise it on her own? She did not even want to put it up for adoption because it was possible that the child would grow up and decide to come looking for her. Soon, Yasmine slipped back into her old rut of thinking.
Please, Kevin, don’t reject me – not now. I need you to take me away from all of this craziness. We were good together and I’m hoping that you remember your promises to me. I was supposed to be your wife and the mother of your four kids. You must still feel something for me, if only an ounce of regret for the way things ended between us. I have to make you see that we belong together…
****
“What can I do for you, Mr. Beckford?” Mitchell asked, gesturing for Drake to sit.
Drake walked briskly to the chair and sat. For a man who’d experienced first and second degree burns to his lower back and legs, his mobility was impressive and he was certainly doing much better than the doctors had expected. But what was more prominent about Drake was the beam in his expression. He didn’t appear discouraged about the thousands of dollars in damages the fire had caused the church or that his life and that of his wife could still be in danger. He seemed completely relaxed and now that Mitchell was able to observe him more closely, Mitchell wondered if the young preacher was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
“I understand that Elder John has posted bond,” Drake said.
“I’m surprised that you still refer to him as an ‘elder’ of the church.”
“Well, I’m inclined to believe that no man is beyond the reach of God.”
“Even though this man has been sexually abusing his stepdaughter since she was fourteen years old?”
“I am quite saddened by that, but yes, it is possible for such men to be regenerated through the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ.”
Blood? What the heck is this man talking about? Mitchell was doing a poor job of hiding his incredulity. “He’s quite a dangerous criminal, you know – this John Dewey. He is a veteran gang leader of one of the most ruthless gangs on the island. We ran his fingerprints through our system and were shocked to stumble upon a lengthy list of misdemeanors, including multiple instances of shoplifting and drug trafficking. Now he is suspected of even greater crimes, as in sending those men to burn down your church with four hundred people in it. We have yet to find out who those men are, or
who made that call to your wife at six thirty that morning.”
Drake remembered the call and he knew Mitchell was hoping that the cell phone Sasha had lost in the fire would reveal the person in question, but somehow the phone went ‘missing’ from the crime scene and brought their efforts to a grinding halt. The fact of the matter was: They weren’t getting anywhere in this investigation. At this point, it was more productive to put complete faith in God, because only He had the wisdom and the power to bring Elder John crumbling to his knees.
“I hear what you’re saying to me, Officer Mitchell,” Drake said. “I get it, believe me, I really do get it. However, the past month has been a month of reflection and introspection for me. As I lay in my bed, recovering from the burns I had gotten in the fire, a passage of scripture comforted me, reminding me that God is still very much in control. And I quote from memory, ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose.’ I trust that God knows what He is doing.”
Mitchell sniggered. “What good is there in four hundred people being trapped in a burning building? Or dangerous criminals like Mr. Dewey finding ways to wiggle their way out of police custody? You’re not making any sense.”
“Put it this way,” Drake said. “Those four hundred people could have turned out to be four hundred lifeless corpses, burnt beyond recognition. We all are alive to testify of the divine protection of the Lord. How feasible is it for that number of people, only having three exits to escape, to have made it to safety with non-life threatening injuries? Those arsonists, whomever they may be, didn’t expect their plans to fall through. As far as they were concerned, we all are supposed to be dead. Now I’m not saying that every situation will have a happy ending, but what I am saying is that God owns the show and He alone says what will happen on His watch.”
Mitchell had nothing to offer, except to allow Drake’s words to go unchallenged. “Well, I still advise that you protect yourself and your loved ones as best you can. What is your stance on a Christian purchasing a licensed gun?” Mitchell spread his hands in a way to say how serious the matter was. “It would be used simply for protection.”
Drake chuckled. “Even if I had a glove compartment filled with the most sophisticated weapons, that wouldn’t help me one bit if I’m caught off guard. Besides, my ultimate trust is in God. If He sees fit for my life to end by a bullet to the head, then so be it. But my wife and I and the fine people of El Shaddai Ministries will not live in fear. We will proceed with having services at another location until the damages to the church have been repaired.”
Mitchell leaned back in his chair, still not understanding why Drake had come to see him. “So, this introspection or reflection of yours – whatever you wish to call it, by the way – is your way to intrude upon my busy schedule?”
Drake smiled, as he stood to his feet. “Yes, my dear friend. I have been led by the Holy Spirit to sit with you for a few minutes, especially to let you know that I hold no grudges against you. You did what you did to me because at the time, you were convinced that I was guilty of raping Yasmine Strummer. You were only doing your job and although at the time I was extremely afraid for my life, I must commend you for being very good at what you do. This island needs more ardent men like you on the police force.” Drake stood up to leave. “Be encouraged, Officer Mitchell, the Lord will help us win this battle against Elder John Dewey – just as He helped you bring justice against the man who raped your daughter.”
When Drake walked out of Mitchell’s office, Mitchell scratched his head in confusion. What had he just experienced? The hypnotic babblings of a crazy preacher? A man close to death, who knew it would only be a matter of time before Dewey caught up with him? Whatever it was, Mitchell couldn’t deny the warmth suddenly flowing through his body. He was near tears and if he wasn’t so careful of how he displayed his emotions in public, he would let the tears roll.
There was something remarkably peculiar about Drake Beckford and Mitchell could understand why Drake’s brother had believed so strongly in Drake’s innocence. The boy had an excellent spirit, one that could not be ruined by lies and deception or by the crazy antics of Mr. John Dewey. With a renewed focus, Mitchell opened Dewey’s files on his desk and began to meticulously comb through the information – just in case he may have missed something.
Epilogue
Tampa, Florida – Two Days Later
Hunter pulled the rental car in front of a high-rise building, which seemed to extend a good forty-something stories toward the sky. She studied the name of the building that was embossed on a strip of marble in huge gold letters, “Ridgeland House.” She’d gotten the name and the directions from Drake and was told that Kevin and his partners occupied the entire space on the ninth and tenth floors. She was awe-struck at the sheer immensity of the building, which gave her a distinct impression of power and wealth.
Hunter had to pinch herself several times to believe her good fortune. Who would have thought that a white girl like her would be dating such a distinguished African American man like Kevin? She was truly proud of Kevin’s accomplishments. And to think she almost gave up on their long-distance relationship. It would have been her loss and someone else’s gain. Susan Elizabeth Phillips said it best, ‘Anything worth having is worth fighting for.’ Certainly, considering how hard it was to find a good man these days, Hunter had taken those words to heart.
Looking in the rearview mirror one last time to touch up her makeup, Hunter stepped out of the rental car and made her way toward the entrance. She was attired in a curve-skimming navy dress, just an inch above her knees. It was the kind of dress that could be worn in the office or during an evening out on the town. To add to the look, Hunter’s feet were comfortably snug in a pair of fancy heels, with a cute clutch at her side. Her bouncy blond hair whipped against her back as she walked, turning the heads of two male executives who had passed her on her way into the grand foyer. Hunter kept her head straight, because there was only one man she was interesting in seeing at the moment.
Although Hunter and Kevin had been communicating every other day, she hadn’t mentioned to him that she would be coming to Tampa. Her jewelry business in Lakeland, which was only forty-five minutes away, was preparing for its annual showcase in less than two days. However, she thought it would be a great opportunity to take a few hours from her busy schedule and spend some quality time with Kevin. In her clutch was a special piece of jewelry she’d designed for Kevin’s wrist. She was hoping that he would wear it when he accompanied her to the showcase. Of course, she would have to get him to agree first. It seemed as if Kevin didn’t fancy crowds.
Not wanting to be any more intrusive than she already was, Hunter decided to call Kevin at his desk, rather than asking the receptionist to assist her. She was happy she did, because she always got butterflies in her stomach when she heard that velvety ‘hello,’ coming through to her ear.
“Hunter, my favorite woman in the world.”
“Hi, handsome…” Hunter gushed, something she was not used to doing. But Kevin was pulling all kinds of wonderful emotions out of her. “I hope I’m not intruding on any of your meetings.”
“It wouldn’t matter; I would want to talk to you anyway.”
“Wow, you certainly know how to make a woman feel special.”
“It’s because you are special, an incredible woman I’m thrilled to be with…” Kevin paused briefly, realizing Hunter had never called him so early in the day. “Is everything okay?”
“It would be, if you’d agree to come downstairs and meet me in the lobby.”
“Which lobby, girl?”
Hunter grinned. “Your lobby, silly. You remember a month ago I told you that I have a surprise for you?”
“Yeah…”
“Well…surprise! I’m down here waiting to see you and boy, don’t I have a day of fun planned for you.”
“Why are you messing with me like this?”
&nbs
p; “I’m serious. I drove up from Lakeland to surprise you.”
It sounded as if Kevin was already making his way toward the elevator. “Then stay right where you are. I’m coming to you, girl.”
Two minutes later, the doors of the elevator ‘binged’ open. Kevin stepped out and immediately went in search for his woman. He found her sitting down in the waiting area. Everything about her appeared more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. Her curves, her smile, her hair, her skin…everything. He wanted to hold off from kissing her but he couldn’t help it. She was in his arms before he knew what was happening.
About fifteen feet away, this scene would have won huge points for those dreamy-eyed romantics, but not for Yasmine Strummer who stood frozen at the receptionist desk. Were her eyes seeing correctly? Kevin locking lips with a blonde? It was preposterous to see that the woman was white, but equally disheartening to know that Kevin had moved on with his life. He actually looked happy, which sent a clear message to Yasmine that she no longer mattered to Kevin and that she had only been wasting her time fantasizing about their happy reunion.
She recovered enough to stumble out of the building before Kevin got the chance to see her. All of her hard work of tracking down Kevin through Facebook and risking her life in the process, suddenly seemed so stupid. Her self-esteem took a dive to the bottom of her feet, having to experience yet another disappointment. Something had to be wrong with her. Why couldn’t she find happiness with a man like Kevin, instead of having to waste her years with sexual abusers, kidnappers – scums of the earth that didn’t value her worth as a person? She pulled out her cell phone in search of the one person she knew would listen to her emotional rant.
“Levi, I want to kill myself.”
“Please, stop staying you want to kill yourself. Just tell me what’s wrong.”