Tears Fall at Night-The Blessed One Box Set (Praise Him Anyhow and Blessed and Highly Favored Series)

by Miller, Vanessa

  Joy gave him a close lipped smile and then turned back to her paperwork. She had tried two other cases against Lance in the short time that she had been an Assistant DA. Lance seemed like a good guy, but he sure picked some loser clients. He handled everything from assault to robbery, and always seemed to believe that his clients were as innocent as new born babes.

  “Oh, so it’s like that, huh? You not speaking today? Guess you’re still upset about that whuppin’ you took the last time.”

  She’d won the first case, but Lance had, indeed, won the second case. Joy was actually thankful that Lance won that case, because as it turned out, his client had been falsely accused. But he wasn’t about to win this case, not even close, nor was she about to deal with her father the entire week that it would take to wrap this case up.

  “All rise,” the bailiff said as Judge Nelson took his seat behind the bench.

  Joy’s fists instantly clenched as she watch her father sit in a chair he didn’t deserve to be in. She had tried her best to get him out of that seat during the last two elections, but the people of North Carolina just kept voting the adulterer back in. A few years back, Joy had delighted in telling her father that she had been the one to provide the media with information about his girlfriend and his divorce. He’d tried to apologize to her for what he had done to their family, but she wasn’t interested in hearing it.

  Judge Nelson shuffled a few papers around as he avoided looking in Joy’s direction. He then said, “All we are doing today is setting bail, so let’s get to it.”

  Joy said, “I am not prepared to have a bail hearing yet.”

  Nelson took his glasses off and glanced in his daughter’s direction. “What’s the problem, Counselor?”

  Joy smirked. Using the court in this manner could seriously damage her career, but she didn’t care. Every chance she got, she was going to let her father know what an awful human being he was, and if anyone had a problem with it, she would simply start her own law firm. “You are the problem, Your Honor.” As she said the words Your Honor, her eyes rolled and it was obvious to all present that she thought he was anything but honorable.

  Nelson Marshall seemed to shrink in his seat for a moment. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “This is not the time or place for this, Joy. You have a job to do and so do I. Let’s just get on with it, all right?”

  “No,” Joy said flippantly. “You should have recused yourself from this case the moment you saw that I was the attorney of record, but since you didn’t, I am now publicly asking that you recuse yourself.”

  “Am I missing something?” Lance asked as he looked from Judge Marshall to Joy. His client nudged him, and then whispered something in his ear.

  “I see no reason why I should recuse myself. I am more than able to be an impartial judge in the matter that is before the court.”

  “It is well known that I informed the media about your marital misconduct, so if you do not recuse yourself, I will request a judicial review.”

  Lance lifted his hand in order to get the judge’s attention. When Judge Marshall turned to him, Lance said, “If there is some sort of problem between you and the assistant DA, then I respectfully request that Attorney Joy Marshall recuse herself so that we can move forward with the case. My client is entitled to his day in court and he does not want to delay the process waiting for another judge to be assigned to the case.”

  Joy hadn’t seen that coming. The defendant was entitled to a speedy trial, so his wishes might outweigh hers. She turned to Lance and said, “If the defendant is concerned about being able to post bond today, I am more than willing to work out bail with this judge.”

  Lance took her up on the offer. Bail was set for ten thousand and then Joy got back to her mission. “Now that we’ve handled that bit of business, I would like to reiterate the fact that I would like you to recuse yourself,” she said to her father, the judge.

  The defendant nudged Lance again. Lance spoke up again, “Your honor, if one of you has to go, my client would prefer that it be the prosecutor. He does not like the idea that his case would be delayed while he waits to be put on another judge’s docket.”

  “What’s his problem?” Joy asked indignantly. “If he makes bail, he’ll be at home with his family and friends while he awaits a new trial date.”

  Lance turned back to Judge Marshall. “My client has a right to a speedy trial. His rights shouldn’t be tossed aside at the whim of the prosecution.”

  Nelson turned to his daughter and said, “Well, Counselor?”

  “Well what?” she snapped at her father, confused by the entire incident. Why on earth wouldn’t a criminal be happy to have his court appearance moved back? He’d have more time to spend with his family and fellow criminal buddies before he is proven guilty and spends the next ten years behind bars.

  “It looks like you’re the one who needs to recuse,” Nelson said to his daughter.

  Joy threw up her hands, grabbed her briefcase and shouted, “Fine. You win. You always win!” She grabbed her purse and rushed out of the courtroom before she made a bigger spectacle of herself.

  It just wasn’t right. Her father was an awful human being, but things kept coming up roses for him. She wanted Nelson Marshall to pay for leaving her mother and ruining the family unit that she, her mother and brother had held dear. She had been a Daddy’s girl, wanting to be just like Judge Nelson Marshall, for she had imagined that there was no greater human on earth than her dad. But that was before her father left her mother for Jasmine, her ex-friend, the skank. As a matter of fact, Jasmine had been Joy’s roommate and her father had met Jasmine when Joy brought her over to the house for Sunday dinner.

  As Joy reached the exit door, her head swiveled to the left as she spotted Jasmine seated in the last row of the courtroom. The woman had the audacity to roll her eyes at Joy as she looked her way. Joy wanted to reach across that aisle and go upside her head, the same way her mother had done to Jasmine years ago. But she reminded herself that she was in a courthouse and could get arrested for doing something like that.

  Joy pushed open the door and walked out of the courtroom, and had almost made it out of the building when she heard Lance hollering behind her.

  “Hey Joy, wait up.”

  She turned and waited for him to catch up. When he was standing in front of her she said, “Make it quick, Lance. I have a ton on my plate today.”

  “What happened in there? I’ve never seen you so frazzled.”

  Feeling foolish, she looked down at her feet and then glanced towards the wall behind Lance. She didn’t owe him an explanation for her behavior. He wanted her to recuse herself and she did. That’s it, end of story.

  When Joy didn’t respond he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Yeah,” she said, regaining her voice. “You can stay out of my business.” With that she turned and left the building.

  You’ve been reading an excerpt of Joy Comes in the Morning

  http://www.amazon.com/Joy-Comes-Morning-Book-Praise-ebook/dp/B00BZWWC8K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1387844141&sr=8-1&keywords=joy+comes+in+the+morning+by+vanessa+miller

  http://www.vanessamiller.com/ebooks

  Bonus Read...

  The Blessed One

  First book in the Blessed and Highly Favored Series

  by

  Bestselling author of the Praise Him Anyhow Series

  Vanessa Miller

  Prologue

  Joel Morrison was getting that same gut-wrenching feeling he had back in 1952 when his wife and three children died in a fire. He had been away on location filming another blockbuster, family friendly movie when the Kern County earthquake devastated parts of the Southern California region. Because of the earthquake, the power went out in Los Angeles. His wife and children lit candles so they could see, and must have forgotten to extinguish them when they went to bed. To this day Joel refused to allow anyone to bring a candle into his home.

  Seven years later, Joe
l married a sweet-natured woman named Beth. He and Beth had five children. He and his second wife enjoyed forty-two happy years of marriage before she went home to be with the Lord.

  His children were all grown now and had contributed a lot to the full head of gray hair he’d acquired in his eighty-three years on earth. But not since 1952 had Joel felt like destruction was darkening his door.

  He walked into his prayer room with a heavy heart. His knees ached so bad that he no longer bowed down on the ground. These days, Joel either sat in the comfortable La-Z-Boy chair he’d placed in the middle of the room or on the wooden bench that was in front of the altar he’d constructed by hand when he and Betty moved into this house twenty years ago. This was the only room in the house that he had not allowed his wife to have professionally decorated. Joel wanted this room to be personal. Pictures of his wife and children hung on the walls. Sometimes he touched each child’s picture as he prayed for them. Joel didn’t need much in this room, just his La-Z-Boy, bench, altar and the pictures of his family.

  Wanting to be close to the altar, Joel sat on the bench. He looked toward heaven, and thanked God for all that He had done for him. For in truth, Joel was a wealthy man. He was a millionaire six hundred times over. He owed everything he had to the Lord, so each morning he rose up early, came into his prayer room and thanked God for life, health and strength. Joel also sent up prayers for his children. They were each successful in their own right, and Joel knew that the Lord had made that possible also. But God must have been allowing his children free choice with their personal lives, because they were headed in the wrong direction.

  “Father, You know more about what’s going on with my children than I; but I have this feeling in my gut, and it’s telling me that trouble is on the way.” Worry lines etched Joel’s face as he continued. “I wasn’t around to save my first wife and children when they died senselessly. But Lord, please let me live long enough to see my children trusting in You.” He sat on the bench and waited patiently for the Lord to show him what to do.

  A thought struck Joel. He stood and paced the perimeter of his prayer room. Yes, he had been praying for his children since they were born. He’d read from the Bible to his children, telling them about some of the great stories within those sixty-six books: Joshua fighting the battle of Jericho; Daniel in the lion’s den; and Jonah in the belly of a whale. But he had obviously failed to teach his children the importance of living for God and trusting Him at all times. “Well, I’m not dead yet,” Joel proclaimed as he opened the door and walked out of his prayer room with an idea forming in his head.

  In this current economic downturn, Joel had witnessed so many people in need. It was now years after hurricane Katrina, Gustav and Ike, but people were still homeless and jobless. The country now had the highest unemployment rate in years, banks and businesses were closing in record numbers. Joel wanted to help those people.

  He went into his office, sat down behind his massive oak desk and pulled out his personalized envelopes and stationery. Joel was ready for a vacation, and he was going to invite his children to join him. He wasn’t sure if his children would enjoy this vacation once he disclosed part of his plan. No, they wouldn’t be happy, but if his plan worked, then before this was all over, his children would renew their relationship with the Lord.

  Joel wanted to shout, “Hallelujah!” and do a praise dance to the Lord, but he had five letters to write.

  Chapter One

  “Mr. Morrison, I really need to discuss something with you before you leave today.”

  Eric was leaning over his desk, putting some files in his briefcase so he could head home, when Karen, his assistant came into his office. He straightened up, revealing his full six feet 2 inches, 178-pound physique. He straightened his butter cream colored tie and looked at his watch. It was 7:30 pm. He’d promised Linda that he would be home by six. Well, he’d already broken that promise, so he might as well handle this business. He sat back down and said, “What can I do for you, Karen?”

  “I would just like to state for the record,” Karen began as she handed Eric the bills, “I had no clue that this much money was being spent since you put Mark in charge of marketing for your campaign.”

  That was the Corporate America motto: Cover yourself and blame the other guy. When in truth, Karen’s responsibilities included reviewing the finances of his campaign and letting him know if he wasn’t receiving enough campaign contributions to cover spending. He flipped through the bills. With a frustrated sigh, he laid the bills on his desk as he asked, “Why are all these bills past due?”

  Karen plopped down in the chair in front of Eric’s desk. She let out a long sigh as she confessed, “We haven’t received as much in contributions as I originally projected. The election is nine months away, and with nothing significant happening, we haven’t given the donors a reason to part with their money.”

  Here he was mayor of Cincinnati, Ohio, running for governor, with the full intention of making the White House his home within the next decade, but he didn’t even have enough money to run for the top job in Ohio? What did that say about his eventual chances of becoming president of the United States? Was he dead in the water before his presidential campaign even marinated in the delegates’ minds? Eric refused to believe that. His father had always told him that God was looking out for him and wanted to see him do well and prosper.

  Being the eldest child, Eric had always been called upon to solve problems. He could remember his brothers and sisters yelling things like, “Give it back. I had it first.” To break up the argument, Eric would simply suggest, “Why don’t you play with the truck first, Isaiah, and then in a little while you can let Shawn see it. Okay?” Or he would say, “Look Dee Dee, there’s a prettier doll on your bed, why don’t you let Elaine have this old doll, so you can play with the prettier one.”

  He’d been solving problems since he was a kid, so before Eric’s pity party could get started he decided to search for a solution. He grabbed his calculator and began adding up his debt. He turned to Karen. “It looks like we owe almost five million for various items, including my radio and television ads. How much money do we have right now?”

  Karen briefly glanced at the spreadsheet in her hand and responded, “We have about two million available for bills.”

  His father could cover these bills without even blinking an eye. But Eric hadn’t asked his father for anything since he'd graduated from college. Yeah, he gladly took the fifty thousand his father’s accountant sent to all his children each year. His father had also bought each of his children their first home. Everyone but Elaine that is; she was still too busy saving the world to plant roots anywhere. But he hadn’t asked his father for anything else since he’d bought the house for Linda and him. When their daughter was born, Eric sold that house and used the proceeds to buy the six-thousand-square-foot home they now shared. He wanted to be his own man and make his father proud of his accomplishments. The last thing Eric wanted to do as he was nearing forty, was to beg his father for money. Besides, his father knew that it took money to run for public office, so if he wasn’t offering, Eric wasn’t asking.

  A natural problem-solver, Eric said, “Okay then, call all of our creditors and offer them a third of what we owe, and then tell them we will pay the rest over the next three months.” Eric had no clue where the money would come from to pay the remaining balances. But you never knew in the political arena. A scandal could develop concerning his opponent, which would cause more voters to want to get the incumbent out of the governor’s seat. Then they would send in more money to his campaign. Eric hoped he wouldn’t have to hire investigators to dig up dirt on Governor McDaniel, but he wasn’t opposed to it.

  He finished his meeting and left for home. Linda was going to kill him. This was the third night this week that he’d arrived home after eight o’clock. Linda didn’t understand how much public service meant to him, how much joy he received from setting policies in place that would help com
munities for generations to come. Being in public service allowed him to use the peacemaker and problem-solver skills he’d developed as a child. But Linda was always complaining that he was more dedicated to the city of Cincinnati than to his own family.

  Eric didn’t understand Linda. She had everything a wife could want, and yet she was still unhappy. He had bought her a nice home; she had a hefty clothing allowance; and although he was late a lot, he still came home to his wife every night. Not every woman could say that. But Eric Morrison, the next governor of the great state of Ohio, didn’t cheat on his wife. All any politician had to hear was the name Bill Clinton and that was enough said about cheating. No sir. Eric wasn’t trying to build a legacy just to have it torn down by infidelity. His father had taught him that. Joel Morrison used to tell his sons every chance he got: A man’s name is only as good as his wife says it is.

  Eric met Linda after graduating from college, while he was a lieutenant in the United States Air Force. Linda’s father was a colonel in the army, so she grew up as an army brat.

  As Eric pulled into his driveway, he thought, Now she’s just a brat. She was never satisfied with anything he did for her, and had to have everything her way or she fell apart.

  When he walked into the house, he took off his hat and coat, put them in the closet and yelled, “I’m home.”

  No one answered back. He looked at his watch and walked out of the foyer in search of his wife. He found her in the living room. She was stretched out on their beige sofa with a half empty bottle of scotch by her side. Eric rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. Then he noticed a letter sitting on the coffee table that looked like it had been typed on his father’s stationery. He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the couch next to his wife, catching a whiff of Linda’s alcohol-laden breath as she snored.