The Believer

by Kym Davis Boyles

  Greg smiled. “That house had attacks from every direction but then something happens; Jesus says that it fell not.”

  Amens and claps rang out in the sanctuary like thunder.

  “I’m here to serve notice to those who have set themselves up to let the enemy use them to be the rain, the floods and the winds… you cannot win. You can come to beat down my house but you will not succeed and my house will not fall because it is built on the foundation that is Jesus Christ. I am covered, my wife and family are covered, and JMC is covered by the blood of Jesus Christ.”

  The congregation stood on their feet and began praising the Lord. Greg glanced over in James’ direction and saw him stand up and excuse himself. Greg looked back out at the congregation. “I’m not done yet, family.”

  Chapter 85

  Tears flowed down Charlotte’s face as she lay on her side facing the hospital wall unable to speak and not wanting to speak. Her baby was gone. A ginger-haired nurse walked in and touched her shoulder. Charlotte didn’t budge. The nurse rubbed her shoulder gently then looked at Charlotte’s intravenous bag.

  “Hi sweetie, I’m Becky and I’ll be your nurse for the remainder of the day.” Charlotte didn’t respond. Becky checked Charlotte’s IV. “You’re going to be okay, sweetie,” the nurse said. “I know it hurts but you’ll be able to try again.”

  Charlotte continued to stare at the wall; numb. That was her only chance to have Leon’s baby. She loved him and she wanted their baby more than anything. He wouldn’t want her now.

  The nurse refilled Charlotte’s water glass then pulled the sheet up to Charlotte’s neck. “Is there anybody I can call for you, sweetheart?”

  Charlotte wiped her face with her hands. “Where’s Jess?”

  The nurse looked baffled. “Who’s Jess, sweetie?”

  Charlotte swore she’d curse the woman out if she called her sweetie or sweetheart one more time. “My midwife. She came in with me.”

  The nurse stopped and looked at Charlotte. “Um, I didn’t see anybody come in with you.”

  Charlotte turned and looked at the nurse. “My midwife brought me here. Her name’s Jess. She was right with me when I came in. She’s in her early 30s, brown-skinned, long hair. She had on black rimmed glasses. She brought me in here.”

  The nurse had a look of pity on her rosy face. “I didn’t see anyone sweetie but let me ask the nurses at the nurses' station first and then I’ll find Dr. Richards because maybe somebody knows something. I’ll be right back.”

  Charlotte watched the nurse walk out of her hospital room. She reached over to the side table beside the bed to search for her cell phone but yelped in pain, realizing that she couldn’t make sudden moves like that right now. She began crying again, relaxing her head back on her pillow. The room door opened and a tall gray-haired man walked in with Becky behind him.

  “Charlotte hi,” Dr. Richards said, “Becky tells me that you had a midwife accompanying you.”

  “I did,” Charlotte said feeling angry that she had to keep repeating herself.

  The doctor folded his arms in front of him. “We asked around and no one remembers this woman. You were kind of out of it when you came so it’s possible that she dropped you off and was planning to come back later. Can we call her for you?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yes, her number is in my cell phone in my purse.”

  “Check her personal bag, Becky,” Dr. Richards instructed the nurse then sat down on the stool in front of Charlotte’s bed. “I’d like you to stay overnight and if everything looks fine tomorrow morning, you’ll be free to go. I’ll write you a prescription for some pain meds and you’ll be fine. I suggest you see your gynecologist for a follow up in about two weeks.”

  Becky looked through Charlotte’s purse. “Charlotte, do you mind me asking what this is?” The nurse held up a clear plastic bag.

  “Vitamin packets that Jess gave me to take instead of my prenatal vitamins.”

  Becky looked at the doctor then handed Charlotte the phone.

  “Do you mind if I take a packet with me?” Dr. Richards asked.

  “No,” Charlotte answered, looking through her contacts for Jess’ number. She dialed it. The number you’ve dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.

  Chapter 86

  Greg sat in his truck for about an hour with his eye on the old steel plant warehouse. It had been abandoned for years. Greg could remember when they closed the old steel plant—so many jobs were lost and soon other businesses around it followed. Now, it was a ghost town with boarded windows of once productive businesses and broken down vehicles on every corner.

  Greg had to make sure that there was no activity so he kept his distance until he was certain that no one followed him. Parked near a tree adjacent to the warehouse, he reached in his glove box and removed his revolver. He didn’t have it often but he didn’t know what he was walking into so he wanted it close by. He started his truck ignition and drove to the back entrance of the warehouse. He could see that there was a padlock on the door.

  He sat in his truck wondering about his next move. He had bolt cutters that would take that lock clean off but then again, he didn’t want to disturb anything. He had an idea, and it was a long shot, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. He reached in his glove box and removed a pick. The thin metal pick had worked wonders on locks before and he’d have to see if he still had it in him.

  Greg climbed out of truck and closed the door. The sun was high and except for the old creaking sounds of his truck door and the quiet whistle of the wind blowing Styrofoam cups and other pieces of trash around, there was only silence. Greg approached the warehouse door with his flashlight in his back pocket, the pick in his hand and the revolver on his side like the old days. He was giving himself a total of ten minutes to get in and out.

  Greg tugged on the lock, looked around and then knelt down and began picking it. After a few nervous moments, he kept watch praying that the lock would budge. Two minutes had passed already. He was beginning to sweat. Please Lord help me. He kept picking until he heard a tiny click. He exhaled and removed the padlock from the door.

  Greg opened the heavy door and turned on his flashlight. There were streaks of sunlight shining in from the high dusty windows at the top of the building. The smell of mildew and age hit his nostrils immediately. The sound of cracking linoleum beneath his feet was loud and although he knew he was alone, he took light steps to ease the sound. Greg saw the lopsided wooden table and gray fold up chairs that Tim spoke of. There was no way Tim knew this unless he was telling the truth.

  Greg continued to search the large hollow space, noticing nothing outside of the table and chairs until a black wool blanket in the corner caught his eye. He walked to the corner and pulled it up. Beneath was a weight, several small plastic baggies and a money-counting machine. Greg had busted plenty of drug houses before and immediately knew what the items were used for. He knelt and shined his flashlight to see what else was stacked beneath the blanket. He pulled his cell phone out and began snapping pictures.

  He covered the items back up and then looked at his watch. Time was up. Hurrying out of the warehouse, he locked back up and hopped in his truck. He took out his phone to call Ben to let him know what he found. Then he remembered…he couldn’t call Ben.

  Chapter 87

  Taylor walked through Elliot’s office building with her head held high and her dark shades on. She felt good and she knew that she looked good in her white suit. She walked through the already opened door and smiled. “Hello Elliot,” she said.

  Elliot stood up. “Taylor, come right on in.”

  Taylor removed her shades and gave Elliot a hug. “How are you today?”

  “I’m great and you seem like you’re doing great.”

  “I am marvelous,” Taylor said, sitting down in the chair in front of Elliot’s desk. “Well, I hope to be able to make you even more marvelous,” Elliot said handing Taylor the proof cop
y of her book.

  Taylor’s eyes grew wide as she took it. “Are you serious?”

  Elliot nodded. “I am; fresh off the printer. I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

  She stared at the book; it was like she had just won the lottery. A million dollars couldn’t have felt better. She ran her fingers over the beautiful bold black lettering on the white cover with splashes of red; just as she’d envisioned.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said flipping through.

  “We think so,” Elliot said. “We want you to be pleased with the product.”

  Taylor felt emotional seeing the finality of her hard work. “I’m beyond pleased.”

  Elliot slapped his hands together. “Good cause that’s your copy. The official release date won’t be for another couple of months but we’re going to do a pre-order and you‘re going to be making your publicity rounds immediately. So be ready.”

  “I’m ready,” Taylor said.

  “I have your copies in the box over there in the corner. I’ll have my intern take it down to your car.”

  Taylor continued to stare at the book and smile. “Okay, this is awesome,” she said.

  “Well, I’m hitting publicity hard. This is going to change the game for you as a journalist. This is now going to solidify you as an author.”

  Taylor threw her arms up in the air. “Finally! That’s what I want Elliot. But more importantly I just wanted to tell the truth. My husband shouldn’t have gone down alone. His First Lady was responsible for his demise.”

  “Here it is…you can tell the world what you and Leon believe the truth to be. That’s why we’re going to push, push, and push The Deception until it blows up.”

  “You’re right,” Taylor smiled looking at the book in her hand, “and it will.”

  Chapter 88

  Seducca never thought that she’d be sitting outside an office building feeding the parking meter from a roll of quarters and spying on anyone but it was what Taylor had reduced her to. She had never even followed a man like she was following this woman. She didn’t care what anyone said; there was something not right with the prophetess.

  After searching for a building permit for Light Miniseries or David Light’s new church which turned up nothing, Seducca used her computer, phone and local library to see if a Light Ministries existed in Vegas or if there was a David or Taylor Light that ever lived in Vegas. There was no trace of a church, ministry or business affiliation connected to these two, not even a disconnected phone number to turn up.

  Now she had followed her to the Andrew & Ross Publishing House office building. She did claim to be a journalist so maybe she was telling the truth about that part although Seducca was unable to find any of her published works. Seducca reached her hand into her potato chip bag and placed a few more chips in her mouth. Nothing was happening and Seducca groaned; detective work was definitely for the birds. She looked at the time on her dashboard; she had to pick up her kids in a couple of hours.

  Enough was enough, and Seducca put the potato chip bag on the seat and stepped out of her white Range Rover. She put on her shades and made sure her scarf was tied securely over her head as she walked inside the building. She hoped that she was inconspicuous enough because there was no way to explain being there if she just happened to run into Taylor. She looked around the huge elaborate office building where she could almost smell the aroma of deadlines among the office machinery and rushing workers. She hated the hustle of the “nine to five” business routine and was grateful that God delivered her from it. There was a plain looking girl sitting at the receptionist desk. Seducca couldn’t think of any good reason to be inside the building or what she’d even ask the girl so she turned around and stared at the flowing fountain in the middle of the vestibule.

  “Hello, may I help you?” the smiling girl with the stringy brown hair asked.

  Seducca tightened her scarf and cleared her throat, trying hard to think of something. “Can I get old newspapers here?” she asked, feeling stupid but unable to think of anything else.

  The young woman looked at her strangely. “No ma’am, we’re a publishing house for books. You could probably get old newspapers directly from the news distributor.”

  Books? Why would Taylor be here? “Okay, thank you.” Seducca walked off.

  That was pointless. Sed walked back outside and to her vehicle. Okay, she could take only a few more minutes of this. She picked up her potato chip bag and looked up just in time to see Taylor walking out of the door wearing a bright white suit and a big smile. Behind her was a young man carrying a box. It was obvious that he was with her as she held the door open for him and laughed as he followed her.

  Sed pushed her shades down on her face so she could get a clear unobstructed view as the two walked to her car and Taylor used her car remote to open the trunk of her Bentley. The young man placed the box inside and shut the hood. He stood chatting with her. She reached in her large bag, pulled out a thick book and showed the young man. Sed’s mouth dropped. Did she write a book? Sed watched the young man walk off and Taylor started her engine.

  Sed began drumming her fingers on her steering wheel hoping that Taylor drove off before the young man got back inside the building. She kept an eye on Taylor’s vehicle and one eye on the young man. Taylor pulled off and Seducca swung into action, opening her vehicle door and calling out to the young man. “Excuse me!” Sed called out.

  The young man kept walking toward the door so Sed called out again, louder. He stopped and turned around. Sed was out of breath by the time she reached him. “Hi, how are you?” Seducca asked, out of breath.

  The young man looked frightened so Sed reached out and touched his arm.

  “I apologize, I just saw someone that looked like one of my favorite authors. Was that her?”

  The young man’s harsh look softened. “Who? Mrs. Ladson?”

  Sed’s mouth dropped, his answer taking her completely by surprise. “Yes.” Sed looked confused. “Um, Taylor Ladson?”

  “Yes, ma’am that was her.”

  Sed had to think quickly. “Oh, I just love her work. I saw you taking a box to her car and I was too embarrassed to approach her.”

  “Exactly,” the young man smiled. “Those were copies of her book. She’s got a novel that’s going to be released soon.”

  Sed placed her hand to her chest. “Really? Wow, I’m a huge fan. What’s the name of her new book? Can I get a sneak peek of it?”

  “No, ma’am. But it’ll be on pre-order soon. Be on the lookout for The Deception by Taylor Ladson.” The young man opened the large glass door to the office building and disappeared inside.

  Chapter 89

  Greg left Ben’s room and walked outside of the hospital to meet Rick. Greg saw Rick parked near the picnic tables where hospital staff were taking their lunch and smoke breaks beneath the shade of trees. Rick got out of his black Expedition as Greg approached.

  “How ya doing Rick?” Greg asked patting Rick on the back.

  “Hey man, how’s Ben?” Rick asked.

  “There’s been no change,” Greg said. “Keep praying for him man. We believe that God is going to bring him out of this.”

  “Amen,” Rick said crossing his arms. “It’s awful; are there any leads on who did this?”

  “No, not yet but it’s only a matter of time.” Greg glanced at the papers in Rick’s hand. “Okay, so what did we find out?”

  Rick took a deep breath and handed Greg the audit report. “Take a look for yourself.”

  Greg took the report, leaned on Rick’s Expedition and crossed his legs. He read the summary then flipped through the actual findings of the report. “Rick, tithes and offerings increased by 53 percent since James became head trustee; how’s that possible?”

  Rick shook his head. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but the numbers don’t lie.”

  Greg looked at Rick then back at the report. “There’s no denying that in comparison to previous years during t
he same time period, the change in deposits is astounding.”

  “Right,” Rick agreed. “Now … look at the withdrawals. So, in actuality the tithes and offerings are within the normal range of JMC’s estimated growth for the same quarters in recent years. But deposits are now being made on non-church deposit days in giant amounts and you’ll notice that when those amounts are deposited, they’re almost always consistently withdrawn within days. As a matter of fact, those withdrawals are all checks made out to a William Kazinsky from JMC totaling tens of thousands of dollars with each withdrawal.”

  “Who is William Kazinsky?” Greg asked Rick.

  Rick shrugged. “I have no clue.”

  “I intend on finding out,” Greg said. Greg closed his eyes in disbelief. How could we have been so blind? “But no church money is actually missing?”

  Rick shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact, it seems that when those excess deposits are made, they always seem to leave easily about two thousand dollars every time.”

  Greg looked up at Rick, “Guilt money.”

  Rich shrugged. “Let the church keep two thousand dollars each time and all is well.”

  Greg continued to flip through the papers. “I was praying that we wouldn’t find anything.”

  “You suspect James?” Rick asked.

  Greg looked at Rick. “I’d like to say no, because I’m not sure who all is involved or why.”

  “Where do we go from here?” Rick asked.

  “First, we’ll definitely need to request an official audit so we can have concrete proof and take what we have to the police if necessary. We can always subpoena the bank transactions and video from the banks if it ever goes that far but right now, this is between the two of us,” Greg said.

  “Got it,” Rick concurred. “Keep me posted and let me know if you need me to do anything else. I’m going to go in and see Ben.”