After reading and rereading the note, Evan contemplated calling Greg and demanding that he come home. And when he walked through the door, his bags would be waiting for him and she’d throw the note in his face. But she didn’t, because the Holy Spirit wouldn’t allow her to. With Gracie asleep, she walked upstairs to her bedroom where she fell on her knees and cried out to God.
Afterwards, Evan got up, checked on Gracie, got dressed, checked her hair and set the table for dinner. She didn’t know moment by moment what she was going to do when she saw Greg. All of the emotions in her screamed to slam the dishes on the floor and tear up the house; instead she acted as though nothing had happened. She heard Greg outside and placed the dinner on the table. Nervous flutters filled her stomach hearing the front door open and close.
“Baby, I’m home,” he called out to her. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” Evan said flatly. The note was in her pocket but she decided to wait to shove it in his face.
“Hey gorgeous,” Greg said walking up and wrapping his arms around her. “I couldn’t wait to get home to you and Gracie. How was being home today?” he asked, walking over to Gracie to give her a kiss.
“It was busy,” she said. “How were things at church?”
“I don’t know,” Greg said, washing his hands in the kitchen sink. He took a deep breath as he dried his hands on a paper towel. “I feel like I’m back in cop mode instead of pastor mode.”
Evan leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms waiting for the perfect time to pull the note from her pocket. With her heart aching, she continued to listen to him. “Oh yeah?”
“I got a letter from Timothy Nunn.”
“Timothy Nunn that was arrested for Devon’s murder?”
Greg nodded. “He asked that I come see him because he needs my help. Now, nothing seems to be making sense. I don’t know what God wants from me: to be a pastor or be a cop cause I can’t be both.”
Evan locked eyes with her husband. “You love them both so he’s using you to do both.”
Greg looked at Evan and smiled. “Thank you, baby.” He walked over and held her. “Sometimes it gets overwhelming but you remind me that it’s not about me.”
Evan closed her eyes and held onto him, leaving the note right where it was, in her pocket.
Chapter 48
Greg didn’t know what to expect from the visit with Tim as he and Ben sat in the quiet room waiting for the prisoner to be brought in. Feeling compelled by the Holy Spirit to visit the young man, Greg asked Ben to tag along, unsure of what he was up against. And after reading the letter on the ride over, Ben had lots of questions, none of which Greg could answer.
“He’s innocent, huh?” Ben grinned resting his elbows on the wood table as they sat waiting. “Exactly 100 percent of everybody I arrested said the same thing.”
“I agree,” Greg said. “But I’m not willing to make any assumptions until I hear him out.”
“Do you know this kid?”
“No and I’m not even sure how he knows me,” Greg said looking down at his watch.
He and Ben had been waiting exactly thirty minutes in the dreary gray room but they couldn't complain; they were being given special permission to meet with Tim there anyway.
The door finally opened and a large male guard stepped in first with a thin, frightened and sleep deprived teenager trailing slowly behind him with heavy chains around his wrists and ankles. The young man was tall and lanky with an outgrown curly mass of thick hair on his head. Ben immediately looked over at Greg. Greg knew exactly what his best friend was thinking; this kid won’t survive prison.
Tim glanced over at the two of them before being forced to adhere to the barked orders of the guard as the guard unlocked his shackles. Timothy rubbed his wrists as the guard picked up the chains and walked out of the door. Timothy held out his hand to Greg who stood up from his seat and shook the young man’s hand.
“Hello Pastor Greg, thank you for coming,” Tim said, shaking Greg’s hand then looking uncertainly over at Ben.
The young man had plenty of manners and a firm handshake. In spite of where he was, someone had taken the time to ensure that he was respectful. “Tim, this is my friend and former partner, Ben Donati,” Greg said, noticing the uncertainty in Tim’s eyes as he glanced over at Ben.
Nevertheless, Tim politely extended his hand to Ben. “I’m Tim.”
Ben stood up from his seat and shook Tim’s hand. “Nice to meet you; I’m a friend of Pastor Greg’s and an officer in criminal investigations.”
A look of fear swept over Tim’s face when Ben identified himself. He looked worriedly in Greg’s direction. “Oh no, I can’t trust any cops, Pastor.” He began walking back toward the door to exit in a panic.
“Tim, Ben is a close friend of mine and I assure you that you can trust him completely. He’s here to help,” Greg said.
Tim stopped and looked back hesitantly. “I feel like I can’t trust anybody, Pastor Greg.”
“You can trust us, I make that promise to you,” Greg said. “I came because you asked me to and I invited Ben because he’s an excellent officer and he may be able to help you. Please sit down.”
With his shoulders slightly slumped, Tim walked reluctantly back over to the table where he sat down. He looked at Greg, glancing over at Ben. “Thank you…both for coming.”
“I was surprised to get your letter. Do you know me from JMC?”
“No sir, I just remembered Devon saying that he went to your church before and he liked you even though you were a preacher.” Tim ran his hand through his thick hair. “So that’s why I wrote you. He said you were different so I took a chance because I need someone to believe me when I say that I didn’t kill him.”
Greg sighed, resting his elbows on the table. He stared at the young man who looked as if he hadn’t slept or eaten in a while. “Tim, I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances. I know Devon’s mom very well and she’s devastated over the loss of her son,” Greg said, “and I’m told that you confessed to his murder.”
“I didn’t do it, Pastor Greg,” Timothy said with tired eyes. “Devon was my best friend, my brother and Ms. Delilah is like a mother to me. I swear that I didn’t kill him. How in the world could I make Devon overdose? That’s crazy, man.”
Ben stared at Tim and scooted his chair close to him as if interrogating a suspect. “If you didn’t kill Devon then why is there a signed confession on file?”
Tim dropped his head sorrowfully. “I know this is crazy and I don’t expect nobody to believe me but they made me say I did it and if I ever talked that they’d kill me,” Tim paused, “but if I stay in here, I’m gonna die anyway.”
“Who’s they?” Ben asked.
Tim looked at Ben then looked over at Greg. “Who are you talking about, Tim?” Greg asked.
Tim closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “Y’all don’t understand. These cops are more powerful than you even know.”
“Humans are only so powerful Tim,” Greg assured him, “even cops.”
“Not these cops.” Tim shook his head. “They’re dirty, man.”
Ben cut his eyes at Greg then over at Tim. “Are you saying that cops made you confess?”
Tim nodded. “They picked me up at my grand momma’s house after class one day and they took me to this spot in the woods.” Tim closed his eyes then opened them back up and sat up straight as if not to appear weak. “They jumped me then made me confess. After that, they took me down to the station and made me sign my name saying I did it.”
Greg groaned; Tim’s story seemed to be growing bigger the more he spoke. “Do you know anything about Devon’s death?” Greg asked. Tim nodded.
“Well,” Ben said, looking annoyed at his attempts to get information from Tim. “What do you know?”
Tim looked around the empty room as if frightened that the walls were listening. He nodded. “Those cops killed Devon,” Tim whispered. Greg and Ben both fell
silent and the three of them sat around the table in silence.
“Tim, you need to tell us the exact truth because you’re making some serious allegations here, man,” Ben said staring Tim in the eye.
Tim stared down at the table then at Greg. “I know it sounds crazy.” He paused and his eyes began to water. “I was there when they did it but I didn’t see it. I was running out, I heard him screaming.”
“Tim, did you tell your attorney any of this?”
“Who? That clown that the court assigned to represent me?” Tim laughed sarcastically for a moment. “I did but there was no need. He just ignored me and told me to take the plea deal but I ain’t copping no plea and going to jail for the rest of my life for something I didn’t do.”
Greg prayed silently; he had not prepared himself for something so big.
“Pastor Greg, I don’t go to church or nothing but I take God seriously and I wouldn’t bring you into this and make this up.”
Ben closed his eyes and took a breath as if trying to digest what he was hearing. “Tim, you’re saying that cops killed Devon?”
“Yes.” Tim dropped his head. “It’s true. I swear.”
Greg looked at Ben. It was a lot to take in and if Tim was telling the truth then they were up against more than they ever could have imagined. Greg and Ben hated dirty cops and even knew of a few but even this was beyond what they could imagine anyone doing. “Why would they target you and Devon?” Greg asked.
Tim began drumming his fingers on the table. “We were on the street hustling.”
“They targeted you because you were hustling? They could have just arrested you,” Ben said.
Tim shrugged then leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know why they didn’t arrest us. They wanted Devon for some reason. I don’t even know why.”
“Tim, if I was to even believe this, how do you know that these are real police officers?” Ben asked.
“They were in patrol cars. They had badges. There were always two of them, a white guy and a Puerto Rican guy and the day Devon died, they took us to this warehouse. They had money machines, weights and they sat us in these gray fold-up chairs at this wooden table. Then the chief came.”
Greg looked confused. “The Chief of Police?”
“Yes, I think so,” Tim answered.
Ben’s green eyes stretched as he looked over at Greg. “How do you know he was the Chief of Police?”
“I seen him on TV before and he looked like him. He was in a different uniform than the other two.”
Ben looked over at Greg. Greg’s heart began to thump if what Tim was insinuating was actually true. Ben shifted in his chair. “Tim, do you know how far-fetched this sounds?”
“I know,” Tim said with a groan. “But I have to tell the truth because I don’t want to be here and I need my grandma and Ms. Delilah to know that I didn’t do it.”
“And why should anybody take you seriously?” Ben asked.
Tim shrugged. “Because it’s true. They’ll probably kill me in here if they find out that I talked to the two of y’all but I want everybody to know the truth. I can’t eat and I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see Devon’s face in my dreams and I hear him screaming every night. I’m living a nightmare that I can’t even wake up from.”
Ben leaned back in his chair and looked over at Greg. “Okay Tim, say we do believe you; but it’s not that easy. They have a signed confession on file and they’re going to want to make an example of you.”
Tim looked away from the men as his eyes watered up. “But I didn’t do anything,” he said, his lips quivering.
“Tim, this isn’t going to be over just like that because you’re telling the truth. We’re talking cops here and some strong accusations.”
Tim nodded. “Just like I said before, they’re powerful.”
“And just like I said, humans are only so powerful but God is all powerful,” Greg said.
Ben reached in his jacket and took out a small notepad and pen. “Start from the beginning, Tim, and don’t leave anything out.”
Chapter 49
The cool breeze swept across Evan’s face sitting outside on the patio of Dave’s Bistro. She enjoyed patio dining; she loved the freeing atmosphere and the ability to people watch. Sipping on her hot tea, Evan picked up her cell phone that she kept on the table beside her empty plate to check the time. Maybe she had missed a message from Taylor that she was canceling. As soon as she turned the cell phone screen off and took another sip, the young waiter appeared escorting Taylor to the table. Evan smiled.
“Hi sweetie,” Taylor said, putting her arms around Evan. “I apologize but as you can see, I’m always late. I need to do better.”
“I’m guilty of that sometimes myself,” Evan said, noticing how beautiful Taylor looked in a black jumpsuit and red accessories. She self-consciously pulled at her cream blouse, wishing that she’d chosen something a little more sophisticated than blue jeans.
“You look gorgeous,” Taylor said as she pulled out her chair to sit across from Evan.
Is she trying to be funny? She didn’t want to think like that since she had overthought everything with this woman since their first meeting. “Thank you, so do you but you always do,” Evan said noticing yet another one of Taylor’s expensive bags that matched her heels. It was getting to the point that Evan looked forward to seeing what Taylor would be wearing next. “I love your bag.”
“This old thing?” Taylor smiled, holding it up. “Thank you.”
Evan’s left brow rose. Since when is Prada considered an old thing? “I hope you don’t mind eating outside; I love the fresh air,” Evan said.
“I don’t mind at all,” Taylor said. “I’m really glad that we’re finally able to get together for lunch.”
“Me too.”
Taylor reached inside her purse and pulled out a notepad and pen. Evan’s eyes widened. Taylor noticed. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind but I was hoping that you’d share some wisdom that might help me with my article.”
“Um,” Evan stuttered at Taylor’s unexpected move.
Taylor laughed. “It’s not that serious, Evan, and it’s not why I wanted to have lunch. But if it makes you uncomfortable then I can put them away.”
“I guess I’m curious why they’re out,” Evan said.
“Honestly, I want to get to know you but I don’t want to squander any time that I have with you. I did tell you about my ministry so I’m hoping that if you do happen to drop a nugget of wisdom during our conversation that I can write it down since my memory is awful.”
Evan fiddled with her crystal teardrop earring. “I don’t know about dropping any nuggets of wisdom but I know how important the domestic abuse platform is and although I don’t know how much I can help, I just ask that you don’t use my name or notate anything without telling me before you do it,” Evan said.
“Oh, of course,” Taylor said, picking up her menu. “What’s good here?”
The waiter walked up and placed glasses of ice water in front of both women. “Ladies, are you ready to order?”
Taylor kept a close eye on Evan who was pointing out her lunch selection to the waiter. Taylor held her menu up with one hand while trying to put the other hand on the digital recorder inside her bag. With Evan still talking, Taylor glanced down in her purse and turned it on before positioning her bag on the table. The waiter looked to Taylor and she handed him the menu. “The grilled chicken salad, no almonds and no cheese.”
“Yes ma’am,” the waiter said.
“And a basket of croissants,” Evan added.
“I would have never guessed that you ate like that.”
“Everything in moderation,” Evan said, looking at the Prada purse on the table. “You’re just going to rub that beautiful bag in my face, aren’t you?”
“Just so you can get a closer look at it. It was a birthday gift from my husband a couple of years back.”
“He’s got good tast
e,” Evan said.
“No actually, I picked it out and he paid for it,” Taylor said, closing her eyes and taking in the breeze. “I love this weather. It reminds me of the cool breezes in California.”
“Is that where you’re from?” Evan asked.
“No, we moved to San Diego when I was two. But by the time I was ten, we’d moved about eight times,” Taylor said.
Evan grimaced. “That’s a lot for a child,” she said.
“My mom was running from her boyfriend, Roger. It was nothing for me and my brother to be awakened in the middle of the night to leave our apartment and move to another state. But he always found her; always.”
Evan sighed. “That’s an awful life to have to live.”
Taylor nodded. “It is. David and I started our domestic abuse ministry in Vegas when we saw that women needed deliverance. I’m sure that you probably see it at Sundi’s Courage also.”
“Yes, unfortunately. I can spot it,” Evan said.
“How did you and Leon meet?”
Evan took a sip of her tea and sat the cup down with her fingertip rubbing the rim of the cup. “Off the record,” Evan said.
“Not exactly nuggets of wisdom,” Taylor laughed, “We’re just talking.”
Evan nodded. “Leon was a youth pastor at my dad’s church when I was a teenager and he was the most handsome man that I had ever seen and all the girls liked him. But for some reason, he liked me and kept pursuing me.”
“Not for some reason, you’re obviously beautiful and kindhearted,” Taylor said with a smile.
“Thank you. I was so naïve that I didn’t recognize the abuse until I was too far in it.”
Taylor reached for her glass of ice water, brushing her hand against her purse and causing it to move an inch closer in Evan’s direction. “When did it start?” Taylor asked.
Evan’s eyes looked upward in thought. “I don’t really remember. The emotional and verbal abuse started early and then one day, he hit me. My life changed. But when you’re in it, sometimes you don’t really see it.”
The Believer Page 18