Careless Rapture

by Dara Girard

Nicolas ignored her, his blue eyes on Jackie. “Did she tell you about Tyrone Davis?”

  “Who?” Jackie asked.

  “The crazed drug addict who shot her parents while he was high. Isn’t that correct?”

  Faye stared, but said nothing.

  “Her parents had been helping his wife and two daughters when he entered the apartment demanding money,” Clay explained. “When they tried to talk to him, he shot them point blank, then took the thirty dollars they had between them. He went to prison to serve a life sentence, but that couldn’t compensate for the loss of your parents. It’s something you never truly heal from.” He nodded. “I understand that kind of loss.”

  Faye met his eyes. “I know you do,” she said quietly.

  “But you went on with your life. You had to. With the loving guidance of your grandparents you were determined to continue your parents’ work. You honestly take pleasure in helping others. I’m not sure how you met Lamont, but you did—as a college student, perhaps? You fell for his charms and his message. He had reinvented his ministry so you became his only wife under your particular religious order.”

  She raised her chin. “We’ve been married longer than most traditional couples.”

  “You are to be congratulated,” Mack said dryly.

  “But life wasn’t easy because of the constant travel, and you were running out of money,” Clay said. “You’re the one who suggested your hometown of D.C. With your degree you were lucky enough to get established positions in nonprofit organizations, while he continued his work. Unfortunately, the marriage began to hit a rough patch when you discovered Emmerick had other uses for his new recruits.”

  “It was disgusting, the hours he would spend online with young men and women. Bringing them home. But he is a genius and sees the world through different eyes.”

  “You didn’t worry about him too much because you’d received a lucky break. HOPE Services needed a new president and you were hastily hired through a friend of Latisha. The same friend who made sure Winstead got rid of her. The same friend who was involved in your ministry. She made a very good administrative assistant.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened. “Patty?”

  “Yes, Patty,” Clay said. “Together you knew a program like HOPE Services could suit you, since it had been established for a while and the grant funder didn’t look too closely at how things were run. So you were able to create two financial books and siphon money from some of the phony clients you created. Ah, but there was one problem. You needed a vice president.

  “Enter Jackie Henson, a deceptively harmless young woman who had a passion to help the disadvantaged. You underestimated the depths of her passion, so you hired her. And immediately knew your mistake. Yes, she was ambitious like yourself, but she was also very involved with the clients. Fortunately, at the time she couldn’t meet with them all since you kept her busy with proposals, various fund-raisers, and handling day-to-day operations.”

  Faye leaned back and smiled coldly. “You’re a very good storyteller.”

  “Since you’re enjoying this so much, let me finish.”

  She nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Everything was fine until you met Althea Williams and Claudia Meeks. You couldn’t believe it when they came to your office. They looked so similar. You discovered they were sisters. And you had a niggling feeling that you had met them before. That you knew them.”

  “You did,” Mack said. “You knew them and you also knew their father. Would you like to take a wild guess who that might be?”

  Faye blinked.

  “Tyrone Davis. The sight of them angered you. They had done nothing with their lives, making your parents’ sacrifice a complete waste. You couldn’t bear it. And that’s when you snapped.”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t snap,” Clay said. “You put your mind to better use. You started a plan. It all began with Melanie. Poor, lost Melanie. She was the key.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It always bothered me that Melanie was the only link to Careless Rapture. That she was the only one who mentioned an adviser. Why hadn’t anyone else? Of course, now it makes sense. It was because she was the only one connected to it. She was to be your explanation for the deaths of the others.

  “Manipulating Melanie wasn’t hard. She was an eager follower and suffered from a paralyzing depression and lupus. Your deep, husky voice easily fooled Melanie to thinking you were a man. You didn’t have to meet her, you used the phone as your tool. It was easy to get her to do as you pleased. She hungered for a message that told her, her suffering would end, that the universe would be kind. So, in addition to Patty, you had another follower.

  “You sent Patty the bag of cards, knowing she would harmlessly set them on her desk. That was to shift the blame once Jackie began to look into things. Now with Melanie involved in Careless Rapture, you had to focus on your true victims—Althea and Claudia. You tell them of a get-rich-quick scheme you want them to be a part of. They listen, ready to do as you say. Now here comes the next puzzle piece: the clients canceling service. You convince Melanie to cancel service to prove her loyalty to the ministry while you convince Althea and Claudia to do so because you can’t tell them about the scheme as president of HOPE Services—it would be a conflict of interest. You’d give them all the information once they canceled their services. They did.”

  “Enter stage two,” Nicolas said. “Chaos. Clients are suddenly canceling service for no reason. Five in three weeks? Why? You knew why, but you wouldn’t tell anyone. Jackie wasn’t to know that only three of the five were real clients anyway. But she had fallen for your initial ploy anyway. She was worried about Melanie and her involvement with an adviser. With Jackie focused on Melanie you could focus on the others. Then you had a stroke of luck—Mr. Hamlick died.

  “Your source of funding was in jeopardy. So you had Jackie look for funding to divert her attention. Althea was already dead, but since she’d already canceled services, she’d fallen off the radar and no one would notice.”

  “But how?” Jackie asked.

  “Poison. They trusted Faye so she slipped something in their food or drink. All three women were found with a bottle of pills to make it look like a suicide. However, Melanie was the only true suicide. You knew exactly when she was going to do it, which was why you called Jackie to complete the story. To believe in the danger of the Careless Rapture Ministry.

  “You were fine with Althea. But you made a mistake with Claudia. You didn’t know she had family. You didn’t know she had an aunt she spoke to, which would refute the Careless Rapture theory. But still you didn’t have to worry. No one would suspect you. And yet you were nervous about Patty’s big mouth and Jackie wasn’t as convinced about Claudia’s suicide as you’d hoped. You saw that at the restaurant.”

  “This is all so ridiculous,” Faye interrupted.

  “But you knew another way to distract her,” Mack said. “Bertha. You didn’t know she wasn’t a relative of Jackie’s, but you had spoken to her about the ministry one time and she was another perfect foil. You scheduled a meeting with her and Emmerick. And they hit it off. But you were used to his extramarital activities and didn’t take much notice. So when Jackie began to doubt, you made that last taunting phone call about having a family member to send her in a panic.”

  “It worked,” Clay said. “And we were all set to bring Emmerick down.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, you did.” She clapped her hands. “Good job.”

  “But something bothered me. And it began with the phone calls. It wasn’t Emmerick’s style. Then Jackie and Mum talked about how different he sounded on the phone. Which made me think that the man on the phone and the man in life were not one and the same.

  “But who would want to imitate him? Who would know so much about him? Who would know his habits, his speech patterns, his schedule? I remember asking my brother-in-law if wives were really powerful. I can see that they are.” Clay leaned a
gainst the desk, his eyes piercing her cold stare. “I understand revenge—”

  Faye leaped to her feet, her words like ice. “You don’t have the balls for revenge; you don’t have the brains for it.” She came around the desk and stared at them with contempt. “So are you going to arrest me?” she said to Nicolas.

  “But why?” Jackie asked.

  Faye saw the look of pain on Jackie’s face and her mask of disdain briefly crumbled. “I didn’t know innocents like you still existed. I don’t know how you can live so hopeful when your life has been as cruel as mine. I tried to live life and forgive, but I couldn’t.”

  “But he’s serving his time.”

  Faye looked as though she wanted to spit. “Serving his time? Do you consider getting a master’s degree serving time? Do you call three square meals, an exercise facility, and library, plus the ability to remarry suffering? He has a better life in prison than he had on the streets.” She toyed with her necklace. “When I saw his daughters walk into this office like the same useless and disgusting trash he is, I couldn’t bare it.”

  “And you hate trash,” Mack said, glancing around the pristine office.

  “Yes, I do,” she said simply. “Especially the type that breathes. The type that fills the city streets and ghettos of this city. Some move forward. But others continue to live off the backs of others like parasites. Althea and Claudia were like their parents—they would have died eventually. Claudia from cirrhosis of the liver; Althea would be shot by an angry boyfriend. I couldn’t wait that long.” She turned to Jackie. “You wanted to help them, but you couldn’t have. You didn’t know what they were really about. They were greedy and disobedient. They wouldn’t show up for sessions and if they did they would have attitudes. As though society owed them something.”

  She sat. “So these were the two precious girls my parents had gone to visit.” A cold smile spread on her face. “I enjoyed killing them. Taking pictures of their bodies was the best. I think I spent around four rolls of film. Every week I sent a picture to him. I wish I could have seen that bastard’s face when he saw them. His dear dead daughters. I hope the images haunt his mind.”

  Nobody spoke.

  Nicolas came toward her.

  “I never trusted you,” she said.

  His blue eyes pierced hers. “The feeling was mutual.” He handcuffed her. “You’re under arrest for the deaths of Althea Williams and Claudia Meeks. You have the right to remain silent...”

  ***

  Jackie sat alone in the office. She could hear the phone on the front desk ringing. There was no one there to answer it; Patty had been taken away for questioning. Instead of her dreams of expanding HOPE Services, she faced two empty offices and the likelihood that all funding would be cut. Two women she’d come to see as allies in this struggle against poverty and degradation were in fact enemies. Why hadn’t she seen it? Was she really that foolish?

  She remembered Winstead’s words that nobody cared about helping derelicts. If the very people who set out to help them used funding for their own purposes, perhaps he was right. Perhaps nobody really did.

  Clay came into the room. “Jackie?”

  She looked up at him, but didn’t really see him He walked toward her troubled by the sadness in her eyes. It looked too much like hopelessness, as though the realities of life had finally shattered the light of her soul.

  “Did you know about Faye all along?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. The dinner with Kevin gave me suspicions of her involvement, but I never thought Faye would intentionally hurt anyone. I didn’t realize the extent of her involvement until Mum mentioned how different “Emmerick” sounded on the phone. I also could never get over why Emmerick was acting out of character by harassing you. Things didn’t seem to fit, then I saw Mack and his daughter. Suddenly, I thought about how the past affects the present and how things can be connected. At that moment things began to click.”

  “Oh,” she said with little interest.

  He sighed.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let me take you home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Jackie woke up just as the sun began to spread across the city. She sat by the window in Clay’s apartment, wrapped in a blanket. For two days now she’d been huddled like a broken animal. She didn’t speak or eat or sleep, either sitting on the couch or by the window. She knew she had not been good company, but she didn’t care. She only wanted to hide.

  She felt as though she could no longer trust anyone. She was afraid to. Afraid that her judgment would be wrong, again. So deadly wrong. How could the face of evil appear as a friend? Despite the beauty of the coming day, she could only see shadows, the danger. She wanted to hide forever. Life held no joy—it was a soup that offered no sustenance. A meal only enjoyed by the simple, those who could not differentiate between water and wine. She’d tasted life’s bitterness and could consume no more.

  What hope was there when such cruelty existed? How could she run a program promising something she no longer believed in? She knew there was no ultimate sanctuary and there would always be pain. Jackie closed her eyes.

  She opened them when she heard tapping on the window. She glanced to see what it was and gasped. “It can’t be.” She raced to the sleeping figure in the bed and shook him. “Clay, wake up.”

  “No,” he grumbled.

  She shook him harder. “Please! This is important.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  He reluctantly sat up. “What is it?”

  She pointed to the window. “Look.”

  He squinted at the window and saw a yellow and blue budgie. He jumped out of bed. “I don’t believe it.” He opened the window. “Laura?”

  The bird flew onto his shoulder and chirped.

  Clay removed Laura from his shoulder and sat on the bed, staring at the bird in wonder. “This has to be a dream.”

  Jackie clasped her hands together, the sight of the bird edging away the fears and doubts she’d started to cling to. But it wasn’t Laura that removed them. It was the gentleness with which Clay held Laura, the way he stroked her head despite the slight tremor of his hand. How she trusted him; Jackie understood, for he treated her with the same tenderness. With him she always felt safe and cherished. She laughed to think how she’d once thought him so cold and unfeeling.

  Jackie rested her cheek against Clay’s bare back and closed her eyes. At that moment she felt one with him. There was no difference in age, no difference in height, no difference in experience, no difference at all. She felt the depth of her love for him and it filled her heart with courage. The courage to live and trust and dream. Jackie sat up and stared at the bird, thankful for its return. “I knew she would come back.”

  Clay turned to her and an unknown tension eased. He’d been afraid he’d lost her to the sadness that had haunted him all his life. But no . . . she was free. They both were. “You knew it, huh?” He smirked. “Is that because that’s how fairy tales end?”

  “Yes.” She smiled with such unmitigated joy, he felt his heart move. He knew then that he loved her. He loved her in a way that gave him strength, that made him feel fully alive. It replaced the pain he’d long carried with him—a once trusted companion. Now he felt hope. He shook his head. He’d never felt that before. He’d been searching for it and seeing it out of reach. Now it was here in this room, in his heart.

  He no longer had to sit in a church to find a quiet sanctuary. He had only to look at Jackie to find safety and peace in her bright gaze. His mischief maker had completely bewitched him, and he felt no shame or fear in that knowledge, just a firm belief that that was how it was supposed to be.

  He set Laura on his dresser drawer, then grabbed his clothes. He began to whistle.

  “I’ve never heard you whistle before.”

  “I’m talking to Laura.”

  Jackie stared at him. “You’re acting strange.”

  He stood and opened the door. “It
’s probably because I’m in love with you.”

  She leaped out of bed and followed him into the kitchen. “What?”

  He searched inside the fridge. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  She tugged on his arm, wanting him to look at her. “Who cares? What did you just say?”

  Clay put a finger to his lips. “Quiet or you’ll wake Mum.”

  She threw up her hands. “I don’t care. She doesn’t get up until noon anyway.” Jackie stood in front of him, blocking his access to the fridge. “Did you say you loved me?”

  He gently pushed her to the side. “I said I’m in love with you. It’s an ongoing sickness.”

  “I have it, too.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it’s very important to love yourself.”

  “Clay,” she said, exasperated with this playful mood. “I’m in love with you.”

  He waved a hand as though fending her off. “I know.” He turned to the sink.

  She wrapped her hands around his waist, again resting her cheek against his back. “What are you going to do about it?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She took a step back and frowned. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  He looked at her a moment, then handed her his keys.

  She stared at them, confused. “Do you want me to go somewhere?”

  “They’re the keys to everything I own. My place, my car, my job, the safety deposit box where I keep my girlie magazines—collector’s editions.”

  “Why are you giving them to me?”

  “They’re yours.”

  Jackie grasped them to her chest, feeling the grooves bite into her palm. “They’re mine?” she said breathlessly.

  He trapped her against the fridge, his heart reflecting in his eyes. “They’re yours. Which means all that I have is yours. It means you taught me how to live, how to breathe, how to feel. You taught me that being a man isn’t about being alone, it’s about risking being wrong, trusting. It is about knowing when you’re weak, knowing when you need help, and asking for it. It means I want to wake up to you every morning and go to bed with you every night. It means I’ll never run away again because with you I’m always home.”