by H. H. Fowler
“We will find out that information for ourselves. I don’t want to give Gregory or his men any ideas. For now, Gregory is considered to be one our key persons of interest, along with Anwar Daxon.”
“Fair enough.” Karissa pushed a big forkful of salad into her mouth and chewed slowly. “With a name like MsV Stoffin, she shouldn’t be hard to track down. I will interview her and then report back to you.”
“And what will I be doing?” Richard joked.
“Tons of other fun stuff.”
“Like?”
“Try talking to Mrs. Beaufort again. It would be good to hear her side of the story of what happened at the art gallery.”
“I don’t know what good that will do,” Richard said. “She still hasn’t regained her memory of the last two months. The only thing she has confirmed is what her husband had said of Chazz.”
“That he was hired as a gardener and that it had been three years since they’d seen him.”
“Exactly.” Richard dug into his conch salad for the first time. “Now, whether she will ever admit to having an affair with Chazz is a different story.”
“It would definitely be a motive for the bishop to want to exact revenge.”
“That’s if he ever found out about it.”
“Oh I think he knew,” Karissa smiled. “I could see the disgust in his eyes when we were asking him questions about Chazz.”
“The circumstantial evidence is promising, but not enough to make any drastic move.”
“It’s your call, big guy. Are you going to eat the rest of that salad?”
Richard grinned. “I knew you were plotting for it as soon as it arrived.” He pushed it toward her. “Have it. I’m not in the mood to eat it anyway.”
Chapter Seventeen
Three weeks flew by like a windstorm and Dana couldn’t believe she was finally saying good-bye to her hospital bed. She had been released to go home with her family that afternoon. Her vitals were strong and although she had only been able to stand on her feet for minutes at a time, her progress to a full recovery was on schedule. She leaned on Gregory as he gently helped her into a wheelchair. He then bent to push her bedroom slippers over her cold feet. All the while Gregory was silent, his listless thoughts filling his expression.
As Dana observed him, she was still trying to come to terms with her husband’s sudden change in behavior. For three years Gregory had treated her with disdain and had forced her to sleep in a different bed. She hadn’t recovered the last two months of her memory, but she remembered how painful it felt to be shut out of Gregory’s life. Now, she didn’t know how to embrace this gentler side of her husband. He had visited her at the hospital every day and made sure she was comfortable. Her biggest fear was that Gregory would slip back into his old ways once she was fully back on her feet.
“I read in the papers that Chazz’s funeral was two days ago,” Dana said, destroying the silence between her and her husband.
Gregory let out a small grunt, his body language portraying to Dana that he did not wish to talk about it.
“I’m trying to understand the reason Chazz was at my art gallery when those shots were fired, but no one is talking to me and it is making me insane.”
“I think you should focus on getting better,” Gregory offered.
“I am getting better. Don’t patronize me, Gregory. Why didn’t you tell me about this before? I had to read about it in the papers.”
Gregory scoffed silently. In all his attempts to keep his wife in the dark about Chazz and what he’d revealed to her about the organization had been blown apart by a stupid little news article. Should he even dare believe that his wife would never recover the last two months of her memory? It was wishing thinking. Dana was an indomitable woman and would try everything in her power to connect the missing pieces of her life.
“I should have known that you wouldn’t care how this would make me feel,” Dana snapped.
“What do you want me to say? I hadn’t any idea you and Chazz were communicating again.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it…it’s nothing.”
“No, tell me, Gregory,” Dana pushed, “because I don’t recall mending bridges with Chazz. It’d been almost three years the last I’d heard from him. So, you can imagine my surprise when I read that article, reporting the reason I’m still alive is because Chazz had jumped in front of the bullets to save my life. You should not have kept that from me.”
Gregory stared at his wife, but struggled to keep his suspicion in check. “You really don’t remember what happened to you at the gallery?” he asked her.
“I don’t have a clue,” Dana admitted. “And the only reason I believe any of it is because I’m recovering from a gunshot wound. But I really want to know the reason why Chazz was at my gallery. Do you think he was trying to get away from someone and somehow ended up running to me for help?”
“Well, if you believe he would intentionally endanger your life, then of course, it is a possibility.”
Dana sighed at her husband. “You expressing your disgust for Chazz, is not helping at all. There had to be a reason why Chazz showed up at the gallery that day.”
And I pray to God that you will never remember, Gregory said to himself, but to Dana he replied, “Give your brain some time to adjust. It will do no good whipping yourself into a frenzy.”
On the heels of Gregory’s advice, the doctor came in with release papers for Dana to sign. He then gave Gregory a long speech about tending to Dana’s needs, as she would require continuous care during the next several weeks. As the doctor took Dana aside to check her bandages, Gregory walked into the hall to answer his cell phone, which had been buzzing in his pocket for the last twenty minutes. He was not pleased to see who it was.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Ms. V spat into his ear.
“I’m not avoiding you, Viola. What the hell do you want?”
“For you to ditch that surly attitude, to begin with. And since when did you start asking me questions like that? I made you. Remember that when you’re down on knees, kissing your wife’s big feet.”
Gregory took in a deep breath to pull back his icy comeback. The nerve of these people to threaten his family and expect him to remain unaffected by it. Within three weeks, he had almost lost both his wife and daughter – due to the organization’s insatiable desire to keep their secrets intact. And it seemed as if they didn’t care who they hurt in the process. Why should he stay obligated to them when they had unceremoniously broken their side of the agreement?
“Have you heard from Anwar?” Ms. V was asking.
Gregory looked around to see if anyone was within earshot of the conversation. He saw no one, but he lowered his voice anyway and parroted, “What do you mean have I heard from Anwar? I thought your men caught him that day when he ran out of your suite.”
“He got away,” Ms. V grumbled, “thanks to you. You should be blamed for his disappearance.”
“Viola, don’t start.”
“We’ve been looking for that fool for almost a week! Why do you always recruit these boys who are unsure of themselves and of what they want? Now the organization has to find a way to remedy this situation.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Such a silly question, Gregory. The boy knows too much to remain alive! You are the one who messed up. You should find him and shoot him in the head.”
Gregory saw the doctor coming out of the room with Dana in a wheelchair. He immediately disconnected from Ms. V and furtively pushed the phone into his pocket. He could imagine a slew of expletives exploding out of Viola’s mouth, but he didn’t give two pence. Right now, his only concerns were to protect his family and groom Izaiah to take over as the next leader of St. Donovan’s Chapel.
“You ready?” he asked his wife.
“Yes, I’m ready. I’m actually dying for you to take me out of this place.”
Gregory smiled, which was the f
irst genuine smile he’d given his wife in a long time. But Dana had trouble returning the gesture, because she couldn’t downplay her confusion over Gregory’s disposition. He was not fussing, or giving her any of his usual mean attitude, which she’d grown accustomed in recent years. She found it so hard to believe. Maybe her being shot had something to do with her husband’s change.
Whatever the reason, Dana prayed it wasn’t temporary, because if her husband could get over the mistakes she’d made in the past, their marriage stood an excellent chance of bouncing back from the grave. There was no doubt that she still cared very deeply for her husband.
Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against Thee
- Psalms 119:11
Chapter Eighteen
This particular Sunday morning St. Donovan’s Chapel was packed to capacity, as the news spread on the social feeds that Izaiah Cahoon was bringing the sermon in Bishop Beaufort’s stead. Never in the chapel’s history, since Gregory took over as presiding bishop, had something like this happened. Izaiah had only been in Bliss Haven for two months and his name was already causing a stir. While most of the congregants were in favor of the ecclesiastical shift, there were a handful of sanctimonious cynics grumbling in their seats.
The loudest were a category of elders who simply did not feel as if Izaiah had had enough experience to fill Gregory’s shoes. Moreover, they had been there since the inception and Gregory had never once looked in their direction. How else did Gregory expect them to react? But with Gregory showing his full support by sitting in a seat behind Izaiah, it was useless making a scene, as Gregory had been known to publicly disgrace any disorderly conduct.
In the front seat Candi sat with her legs crossed – the only one present of the Beaufort sisters. Asia and Dallis had opted to stay home with Dana, even though Miss Rose was well able to carry out Gregory’s instructions. But it was exactly the way Candi preferred things anyway. Any time Asia was around, Izaiah tended to go stupid in the head. He would ignore her and focus on Asia. That was a huge stumbling block for Candi. So whenever she got Izaiah all to herself, she made certain that she left a lasting impression on him.
A smile of support pulled Candi’s lips apart as she watched Izaiah nervously mount the pulpit. He looked as if he was trying to hide a limp and she could only assume that he was sore from their excursion experiences at the Bliss Haven Adventure Park. The first time she’d taken him had been a week ago and then they’d revisited yesterday afternoon. Izaiah had actually fallen in love with kayaking and now wanted to turn it into a weekly exercise.
In spite of her being one of the bishop’s daughters, Candi was not a faithful churchgoer. But anywhere Izaiah lodged, she would do her best to lodge also. She knew one of the subtle ways of winning a man’s heart was to show unwavering support for his dreams and aspirations. Izaiah was already enjoying spending time with her and she wanted to keep things that way. That was why she was always imagining the next fun thing that they could do together. While Asia was stuck in her little world, nursing a broken heart, she and Izaiah would be building a deeper bond that could lead to something more serious – like marriage.
“Good morning, church,” Izaiah began steadily.
“Good morning!” The congregation shouted together.
Izaiah smiled appreciatively at the wide reception of the people. “Wow… that was awesome! Makes me wonder why I was nervous in the first place.”
Those words elicited a coterie of muted laughter from the pews. The congregation sensed Izaiah’s genuineness and his love for the people of God. They noticed that he gave good eye-contact, as if trying to establish a connection. But that wasn’t all that was being noticed about Izaiah. His haircut and neatly-trimmed beard made him look like he’d stepped out of GQ magazine. And although fashion was never at the top of Izaiah’s list, he couldn’t help but look dapper in anything he put on. The ladies in the front pew were swooning over the way his black Perry Ellis suit hugged his body.
The attention was distracting, but Izaiah had an amazing ability to keep focused and stay the course. He gave a small smile and then continued with his salutations. “First, allow me to thank the man who has given me this opportunity to stand before you today and for trusting me to carry out such an awesome responsibility of standing here in his stead. This is unheard of where I came from and I want Bishop Gregory Beaufort to know that I am humbled and that I appreciate his confidence in me. With the help of God, I will endeavor to serve Bishop Beaufort and the fine people of St. Donovan’s Chapel to the best of my ability. Please stand and help me salute Bishop Gregory Beaufort!”
The congregation stood and applauded, but soon sat with anticipation of the next set of words coming out of Izaiah’s mouth. Candi gave him a wink to let him know that she was all in favor of what her father had done. She had been telling her father that he hogged the pulpit too much. Having a young man of Izaiah’s stature stand before the congregation was certainly a welcoming change.
“Today, I am going to speak to you about the power of the mind,” Izaiah said, jumping right into the introduction of his sermon. “Please turn your Bibles to Proverbs chapter twenty-three, verse seven. Together we will read the first portion of that verse. You ready? Let’s go…For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he…let us repeat it to ourselves and then say it to the person sitting next to you…Now, let us turn to Romans chapter twelve, and begin at verse two…And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable and perfect will of God.”
For the next half hour, Izaiah challenged the congregation with soul-searching words, as he drew on references from James Allen’s book. Nuggets of wisdom that Izaiah tried to incorporate into his own life. ‘A man is literally what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts. As a plant springs from, and could not be without the seed, so every act of a man springs from the hidden seeds of thought, and could not have appeared without them. This applies equally to those acts that are spontaneous and unpremeditated.’
Izaiah continued, his confidence building, along with the modulation of his voice. “James Allen said that a noble and Godlike character is not a thing of favor or chance, but is the natural result of continued effort in right thinking…I agree wholeheartedly. Have you ever heard the saying, we are what we eat? Well, guess what? If we spend our entire life focusing on the wrong things, we will become a casualty in this thing called life. Galatians 6:8 in an amplified version says, those who keep sowing in the field of their old nature, in order to meet its demands will eventually reap ruin, but those who keep sowing in the field of the Spirit will reap from the Spirit everlasting life.”
Gregory shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Like in the case of Frank Dubbin’s passionate pleas, Izaiah’s words forced Gregory to examine his inner man. He asked himself the question: Is my character really the complete sum of my thoughts? I find that hard to believe… I am more than my thoughts. Aren’t I? What a bold thing to say, Izaiah. You made me sound so one-dimensional. But Gregory knew truth was mixed up in there somewhere. Maybe he’d been doing wrong for so long that he nitpicked at anything that made him consider his sins.
Like how he’d hired Chazz to seduce his wife. What was he thinking of at the time? Greed? Lust? Power? To Gregory, it eclipsed every other evil thing he’d ever done in his life. Dana didn’t deserve what he’d done to her when all she’d ever done was loved him and taken care of their daughters. What a pity it took Dana almost losing her life for Gregory to recognize that.
He realized all the promises that Viola had made were nothing but deception wrapped in sheep’s clothing. He’d had twenty years of what? Immorality and distortion of the truth? At fifty-one years old, Gregory seriously considered returning to his righteous roots. Yeah, right. He scoffed so loudly, he thought the congregation heard it. How easy would that be with Viola still pulling his strings?
When Izaiah finally sat down
, the congregation was still sitting at the edge of their seats. Were they impressed or insulted? Izaiah couldn’t tell. Their expressions depicted those who’d been drawn out of their comfort zones and placed in the middle of a firing squad. On the other hand, Gregory seemed pleased, though it stung to receive such a heavy exhort from a man who was half his age. He stared at Izaiah, who now had dropped his head between his knees in prayer. For one, Gregory couldn’t believe all of that information had come out of that young man. The only thing left for him to do was to dismiss the people and send them home.
After the benediction, Candi made a beeline to the pulpit. Her goal was to get to Izaiah before any of the other women had the chance to sink their claws into his arms. To her dismay, she still had to wait in line, as some of the senior ministers had begun forming a circle around Izaiah, congratulating him on a job well done. Once the coast had been cleared, Candi wasted no time in walking up to Izaiah and giving him a tight hug.
“I am so proud of you,” she told him. “You made me cry in my seat.”
Izaiah gently removed himself out of Candi’s embrace. Her perfume had nearly knocked him backwards. “Thank you – I guess. I’ve never been so nervous in my life.”
“If you didn’t say, I would have never known. You were excellent and I’m sure I can speak for ninety-five percent of the people in here.”
“What happened to the other five percent?” Izaiah joked.
“Old heads who are set in their ways,” Candi grinned. “They will never get with the program – no matter who stands behind that pulpit. Forget them, they are two steps from the grave anyway.”
Izaiah chuckled.
“So…” Candi droned, as she rested her fingers on Izaiah’s arm. “Why don’t we get out of here and find something to eat? I’m famished. What about you?”
“We left Miss Rose preparing a spread. Do you really want to disappoint her by sitting down at some restaurant whose food isn’t half as good?”