A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7)

by Brenda Barrett

  Vanley nodded. "I know."

  Carol grinned. "I doubt you do know. Anyway, Anita was a teacher then. She had just finished her first degree. She was twenty, young, gorgeous, ambitious, and troubled."

  "Troubled?" Vanley jumped on that bit of information.

  "Yup, but at the time I didn't care," Carol said. "I ignored her disquiet and unhappiness and just loved her."

  "You were a good friend," Vanley said.

  Carol looked at him, the far away look still in her eyes. "I am sorry, what did you say?"

  "You said you loved her..." Vanley said slowly.

  "Yes, yes, I did, and we were together for a full year while she suppressed her real self because I wanted her to be somebody she was not. She would have done what she wanted to do but I was in her way."

  Vanley shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Carol, you are speaking in parables."

  Carol snapped out of her trance-like state. "Sorry. I just realized that I was a bad... er... friend to Anita."

  Vanley glanced at his watch and groaned, "I have a three-day young ministers’ camp to go to."

  "You guys sure do camp out a lot," Carol said.

  "This camp is for people who are young in the ministry," Vanley said. "It's the beginning of the year; they tend to have these things regularly as a way to lay a solid foundation for the year. Could you tell Anita that I stopped by? I will call her later to check up on her. If she's asleep, maybe you can answer her phone and let me know how she is doing?"

  Carol nodded. "Sure thing. Nice to meet you, Vanley. I am happy that you are one of the good ones. Keep it up."

  *****

  Vanley spent all three days of the young ministers’ camp in an uncomfortable mode. What did everybody know about Anita that was such a big deal? If someone would just tell him what it was, then it would not be such a big deal. First, Anita made it out to be some kind of huge event and then his uncle practically begged him to stay away from her.

  In his head, he ran through the conversation he had with Carol, hoping to make sense of her cryptic statement. It was making him feel increasingly curious, and to be honest, apprehensive. What could be so bad? What had made Anita so down and troubled as Carol had implied?

  He had business to attend to at Mount Faith University the day after the camp: it was a counseling session with a young man he was working with from his days as an intern pastor at the university. He had talked him out of committing suicide a year ago, and he made it a point of duty to stay in touch with him.

  He parked his car in the spot reserved for the pastor and entered the spacious church vestry. He saw Pastor Peterson, his half-gray head bent over a computer at his secretary's desk.

  "What's wrong?" he asked Pastor Peterson, "Geneva not in today?"

  "Hey, Vanley," Pastor Peterson looked up at him and smiled. "Geneva is sick with the flu, and I am trying to find a letter that she has on here."

  "Flu seems to be going around," he said sitting down in a chair across from his friend and mentor.

  Pastor Peterson nodded. "It's that time of the year, when the Mount Faith Campus gets it badly." He tapped his finger at the side of his cheek. "I am forgetting something. Oh, your appointment called." He looked down at some post-it notes that he had in front of him. "He couldn't make it today."

  Vanley nodded. "I hope he doesn't have the flu as well."

  Pastor Peterson finally found the email and then he looked up at Vanley. "I can sense that something is wrong; you look troubled. You are even twiddling your thumbs…want to have a counseling session instead of conducting one?"

  "No," Vanley said. "I am just mulling over something about Anita."

  Peterson shook his head. "Vanley, you fasted and prayed about her and a possible relationship. You remember?"

  Vanley nodded. "Of course I remember."

  "You asked God that if she was the one then let her soften toward you."

  "And she is softening now," Vanley said, feeling slightly frustrated. Was she really or was she playing with him?

  "That prayer and fasting was three years ago." The pastor shook his head. "I think you got your answer then."

  "But," Vanley sighed. "I just can't let it go."

  "The Bible says ‘Lean not unto your own understanding,’" Peterson said, putting on his glasses, which were at the side of the computer.

  Vanley sighed. "Easier said than done." He got up. "Now that my lunch time is free, I should go to lunch."

  "Take that girl. What's her name?" Pastor Peterson was peering closely at the computer screen.

  "Davia," Vanley said, regretting that he had entered into that stupid deal with his uncle, and regretting that he told Pastor Peterson about Davia. Why couldn't he hear the secret about Anita without having to stretch himself into pretending to care for Davia?

  He hadn't seen her in two weeks. He had been visiting other churches because of his commitments to preach elsewhere and had not gone to the Sunday and Wednesday night meetings. He didn't miss her and hadn't thought about her. He had been so caught up in all of the cloak and dagger stuff regarding Anita that he hadn't even spared a thought for Davia. He walked to the president's building intending to ask his uncle, once again, about the big secret.

  When he reached the steps, he saw a girl coming down, her long hair waving in the breeze while she walked. She was in a black suit that fitted her well, and red high-heeled shoes. She looked familiar to him. When she drew near and smiled, he realized that it was Davia.

  "Davia!" he ran his eyes over her in dazed appreciation. She had almost sauntered past him in that model glide of hers. When had she developed a model glide?

  Davia looked at Vanley, feigning a detachment she was far from feeling. She watched as his eyes ran over her appreciatively and smiled inwardly.

  "Oh, hello, Pastor Vanley. How are you doing?" Did that sound bored enough for him? She fretted in her head. It obviously did, because Vanley looked taken aback by the nonchalance he heard in her voice.

  "I've been great. Going out for lunch?"

  Davia nodded. "Yes, and I am going to take a long one, no boss to report to today."

  "Want some company?" Vanley asked. His uncle and the secret could wait for another day. This change in Davia needed to be explored.

  "Why not?" Davia asked in her new nonchalant voice.

  Vanley raised his lips in a half-smile. To him she sounded militant, and looked so different—more sophisticated. What had she done in the past two weeks? He looked her over as he walked beside her on the way to the cafeteria. Her hair was different: it was straighter. Her nails were manicured. Her clothes were different as well: they emphasized her figure.

  "What happened to you?" he blurted out as they walked towards the cafeteria.

  Davia smiled. "I decided to look my age."

  Vanley grinned. "Well, you certainly have made that point. You look great."

  Davia looked in his direction and gave him a half-smile. Her hair rippled with the movement. It caught his eye and had him looking at it with admiration. He liked this new Davia. She appeared more mature and obviously gorgeous.

  "Do you like my new hair?" Davia asked softly. "Anita wears hers relaxed."

  Vanley looked at her curiously. "You are trying to copy Anita?"

  "Yes," Davia said simply. She has you wrapped around her little finger why shouldn't I? Of course, she didn't say that aloud.

  "Why?" Vanley asked, looking Davia in the eyes. In heels, they were almost the same height.

  He liked that. He didn't realize it before, but he enjoyed looking at a woman eyeball to eyeball. Davia had nice eyes: dark, brown, almost black. She was also wearing eye shadow, which gave her eyes the appearance of being larger than they were.

  "Because," Davia said swallowing, "she is a good woman to emulate. She has loads of confidence and all of that." No way was she going to tell him that she wanted to emulate Anita to make him notice her.

  Vanley accepted her explanation without further argument and the
y walked into the cafeteria and ordered their food.

  "Hey, Davia," a guy in a yellow shirt called to her before they could find an empty table. He was waving in a frenzy.

  "You don't mind if we eat with him, do you?" Davia asked Vanley. "That's Raul. I've been having lunch with him for the past week."

  Vanley shook his head and watched as she walked toward Raul. She had a lovely shape. Why hadn't he noticed that before? She had all the curves in the right places and was well proportioned.

  Raul looked put out when he sat down with Davia, and he made his displeasure known as he directed the conversation at Davia after grunting a greeting to Vanley when they were introduced.

  Vanley found himself in the unenviable position of being a third wheel. Usually this would not bother him because he was not supposed to have feelings for Davia, but today it bothered him. He felt a bit of jealousy. Why he would be jealous over Davia was anybody's guess. He loved Anita. He always had. He had been patiently waiting for her to make up her mind about him and tell him her dratted secret, but here he was, jealous over Davia.

  "Isn't that right, Vanley?" Davia asked him, intruding on his self-examination.

  "Huh?" he asked, looking between her and Raul.

  "Sorry," he said, apologetically. "You two seemed to be having a very involved conversation; I zoned out."

  Davia winced. Maybe she had encouraged Raul a bit too much. She wanted Vanley to see that someone else was interested in her, but she didn't want for him to zone out.

  "I was just remarking to Raul that President Bancroft has been at the school here for close to fifteen years."

  "Yes, it's about that long," Vanley said vaguely.

  He watched her mouth as she smiled with Raul, and then he looked away. What was the matter with him? Obviously there was a crack in his impenetrable Anita barrier that he had encased his heart in to dissuade all new comers.

  Chapter Seven

  Davia felt a tiny bit of guilt about the fact that she enjoyed one whole week in the office without Anita. She had gotten the chance to go home earlier than usual and took leisurely lunch breaks. Most importantly, she had had lunch with Vanley once. She had also seen him at church again, and he had offered to drop her home. He kept staring at her contemplatively.

  That was a good thing; he had never looked at her that way before, like he was seeing her for the first time and he couldn't figure her out.

  She felt vindicated concerning her makeover; though it had cost her almost all of her savings, and now she had to start going to a hairdresser to do whatever it was people who had relaxed hair did.

  Anita marched into the office promptly at eight the next morning.

  "Good morning, Davia. You look different," Anita said hoping to sound brisk and chirpy, but she still had a stuffy nose and a cough that would not go away, so she didn't quite pull it off.

  She sighed when she looked at the pile of correspondence on Davia's desk.

  "Okay, bring them in," she said hoarsely. "We can work flat out till lunch time. After that I have a faculty meeting."

  Davia grimaced and took up her in-and-out tray. "Yes boss, nice to have you back."

  Anita sat at her desk, and Davia handed her the correspondences one by one.

  She made notes occasionally as Anita dictated. They paused their frantic working pace when Anita's cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, sighed, and then answered the phone.

  Davia was stapling two documents together when Anita growled into her phone. "No, don't you dare give Chudney bones to eat! It will puncture his delicate stomach."

  Davia was trying hard not to listen to the conversation, but she had never heard Anita sound so passionate and bothered. Usually she was so in control.

  "He is my dog," Anita said. "I don't need a lecture. I don't care if you gave your dogs bones; Chudney is not an ordinary dog. I am in the middle of something, don't call me again."

  She hung up the phone and looked at Davia, sheepishly sorry. "It's just that she brings out the worst in me."

  Davia nodded. She wanted to ask who brought out the worst in Anita, but she had been practicing professional restraint. So she dutifully continued her task.

  When they broke for lunch and she was sitting at her desk contemplating a soggy cheese sandwich, she wondered about the conversation. First, she didn't know that Anita had a dog, and secondly, she didn't know that she lived with someone. The person sounded like a teenager.

  She didn't know whether Anita had a child living with her, but then again, she didn't know a lot about Anita. She was super-private and generally kept conversations about her personal life out of the office, until now.

  She looked at the soggy parts of the sandwich where the tomato made a mush of the bread and closed her eyes before she bit into it. She didn't like to see the soggy mess, but she couldn't afford to leave her desk to get something from the cafeteria.

  "Looks yummy."

  When she opened her eyes in mid chew, a slim guy in a brown suit was leaning on the doorpost.

  "Is Miss Parkinson in?"

  Davia shook her head and hurriedly swallowed, "No, she's not in."

  She put down her sandwich and glared at it; it really looked awful. "May I ask who is asking?"

  "Harry Campbell," he flashed a badge at her, "detective."

  "Is Anita in trouble?" Davia asked, genuinely concerned.

  "No," Harry said. "I just need to ask her a few questions."

  "I have no idea when she'll be out of that faculty meeting that she's gone to. The top brass of the university can take ages and ages when they meet."

  "Have you seen any unusual person coming to visit Miss Parkinson?" Harry asked casually, sitting in front of Davia's desk and making himself at home.

  "Define unusual," Davia said playfully, "because this university has quite a few unusual characters."

  "Just anybody out of the ordinary," Harry said. "Somebody looking desperate."

  "No," Davia frowned. Desperate. How does someone look desperate?

  "Has Miss Parkinson been acting herself lately?" Harry asked again.

  Davia shook her head. "No she hasn't; she was sick with the flu for a couple of days and she still sounds like she should be in bed."

  "Not that," Harry said impatiently. "Has she been getting secret phone calls, acting shifty."

  Davia thought of this morning when she found out that Anita had a dog and had somebody living at her house. She had been talking low on the phone. That was unusual. She had looked at Davia cagily before she spoke.

  However, that was not enough to report on her. Besides, she would never do that, even though Vanley had a thing for Anita and a part of her was jealous of her boss. She would not inform on her.

  Davia shrugged. "No detective. I am not aware of anything out of the ordinary."

  Harry slipped his card on her desk. "Miss Parkinson is suspected of harboring a fugitive, somebody who escaped a murder charge."

  Davia gasped.

  "If you hear anything or see anything out of the ordinary, call me," Harry said to her, tapping his finger on the business card. "Do it for her: This person maybe armed and dangerous."

  Davia nodded and took up the business card gingerly.

  When Harry left she wondered about the conversation she heard this morning. Anita definitely had somebody staying with her; was it the fugitive who was armed and dangerous? She doubted that. Anita sounded like she was scolding a child, not a fugitive. They had been arguing about her dog, for crying out loud.

  She looked at the business card again. Something was definitely up with Anita. She was going to be watching her very closely.

  *****

  Tuesday, Davia flipped the mini calendar on her desk. It was February 1, thirteen days to Valentine’s Day and day one of her campaign to watch Anita more closely. It was also the day when she planned to pursue Vanley. She did not go through a makeover for nothing.

  She was tired of being Miss Country Bumpkin. Anita may not know it, or
even care, but she had competition for Vanley's affections.

  She arranged her stationary supplies in an orderly manner on the desk to give herself a sense of order before she started the workday. Anita was not in yet, but usually came in at eight o'clock on the dot. Davia glanced at her desk clock and got up quickly; it was quarter to eight. Anita had a file cabinet where she kept top-secret information, but she kept it locked. Davia was never allowed to go in there and she had not been curious to see what was in there until now.

  Anita usually had the key on a bunch with her car and house keys. She took them with her everywhere. Now that Anita's life had gotten so interesting and mysterious, Davia was dying to know what she had locked in the file cabinet.

  She looked around the office. The school had a clean desk policy. Everything had to be packed up and locked away in the evenings.

  Davia pulled out the drawers around Anita's desk. She couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. She glanced at Anita's personal work diary and flipped through it quickly. There was an entry there from two weeks ago: singles retreat. Her heart jerked with jealously. So, she had gone to the singles retreat. No coincidence there, she must have gone with Vanley.

  "I didn't expect to see you in here," Vanley said from the door.

  Davia's head snapped up guiltily. "I work here." Her high-pitched laugh sounded fake, even to her ears.

  "I know," Vanley said shrugging. "I expected to see Anita...how are you?"

  "Fine," Davia said, smiling brightly. Even though she felt a little let down after what he said.

  "You have lipstick on your teeth," Vanley said pointing to her mouth.

  Davia groaned and exited the office, pulling out a mirror from her desk and peering into it.

  She looked up at Vanley, who had followed her. "Better?"

  Vanley nodded. He was looking at her intently now. She was in a dark brown suit, and her hair was in sleek black bun. She looked pretty and sophisticated. She had on way too much lipstick, but it highlighted the fact that she had an adorable pout. He dragged his eyes from her lip's tempting glisten and crossed his arms.