The Believer

by Kym Davis Boyles

  “You’re so beautiful and that has never changed,” he said, walking over to her and running his fingers through her blonde hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch.

  “You’re the only woman that I’ll ever love. We’re a team, Victoria Mason.”

  His cell phone rang, causing her to open her eyes and him to remove his fingers abruptly from her hair. “Hello?” he answered it, walking toward the bedroom door. “Right on schedule.”

  Victoria sat down on the chaise, watching him and listening.

  “It was one of my officers, I’ve got to go,” he said.

  She looked for any signs of dishonesty in his eyes. James paused. “Vicki, it was one of my officers,” he repeated putting his phone back in its clip.

  “Okay,” she smiled, “I know. Come home as soon as you can.”

  James leaned in and kissed her. “It’s going to be sometime tonight and you’ll probably be asleep.”

  “I’ll try to stay awake,” she said. Victoria watched him leave then walked to the bathroom to start her bath.

  Chapter 108

  Police swarmed the church parking lot securing the crime scene from the crowd of neighborhood onlookers that were gathering. News vans were already gathered, searching for information on the comeback church that seemed to have had it all back together for the past few years. Now it was in the news again. With the police providing them no information, news reporters proceeded to interview onlookers who weren’t able to provide any information either but wanted to be seen on television.

  Evan sat in the sanctuary with her wet face in her hands, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears from flowing so she could be of some use to the officers who informed her that she would soon be questioned. Two officers were questioning Ms. Tingly who could be heard wailing in the back of the church, making it even harder for Evan to stop her tears.

  Mimi sat on one side of her, her mother sat on the other and Rick sat in the pew directly behind them while the sounds of police radios, chatter and heavy feet combing the aisles overwhelmed the sanctuary. She lifted her wet face and Evelyn handed her more Kleenex while rubbing her back and praying quietly.

  “Has Ben pulled the security tape yet?” Evelyn asked.

  “He’s working on it Momma,” Evan said.

  “It shouldn’t take this long Evan, the church really needs a full-time security staff,” Evelyn said.

  Evan didn’t feel like debating with Evelyn about a security staff; now wasn’t the time. An olive- skinned female detective with a dark ponytail walked up to where they all sat. “Mrs. Pharell, my name is Officer Floros; may I ask you some questions?”

  Rick stood up from behind them. “Evan, I’ll be close so let me know if you need anything,” he said, placing his hand on Evan’s shoulder.

  “Thanks, Rick,” Evan said. Evan looked over at her mother. “Mom, I’m okay, go check on Daddy.”

  “I did a little bit ago and the EMTs are trying to check him out but he hates all the fuss,” Evelyn said.

  “Momma, he’s almost seventy; they threw him on asphalt and almost ran him over. It doesn’t matter what he wants at this point,” Evan said feeling frustrated. “So please.”

  Evelyn nodded, stood up and headed toward her husband in the hallway. Evan needed Evelyn to step away for just a bit since Evelyn had been attached to her hip since the incident with Taylor. Right now, her over-protection was smothering and Evan needed to be able to breathe. Evan looked at the officer. “What do you need to know?”

  The young female detective in a tan pants suit looked down at her notepad. “Does your husband have any enemies that you’re aware of?”

  Evan almost laughed. Is this some kind of joke? Evan wiped her wet eyes. “Yes.”

  The officer’s dark eyebrows rose. “Who?”

  Evan dabbed her eyes with a piece of tissue. “My ex-husband,” she said.

  “What’s the story?” the woman asked.

  Evan looked at the officer and then at Mimi. As Evan relayed an overview of their history, the officer was intrigued although she said little as she took notes. Officer Floros took a seat in the pew in front of her. “So your ex-husband is currently in jail but you think that he may have had something to do with this?”

  “Yes,” Evan answered.

  Officer Floros looked down at her notepad; she was skeptical. “Anyone else that you can think of that might hold a grudge?”

  “His wife, Taylor Ladson,” Mimi said before Evan could.

  A young male uniformed officer walked up. “Excuse me, Officer Floros; Detective Donati and Agents Harding and Soto would like to see you.”

  Officer Floros looked at Evan. “Thank you Mrs. Pharell, for the information. Give me just a moment please.” Evan nodded.

  Mimi turned around to get a look at the two tall gentlemen standing next to Ben in the back of the church and said, “Who are the agents with Ben?”

  Evan turned around to get a look. “I don’t know,” she said, staring out at the chaos in the church.

  Evan had been at the center when she received the call about Greg. When she realized she was talking with the FBI, her laughter turned to shock. She called Greg’s cell phone repeatedly, so badly did she want him to answer. Then she was told that it had fallen on the asphalt and broken during the abduction. The police immediately went to her home to check on Gracie and Evelyn bringing them both to the church where she and her dad were.

  Although badly bruised, her dad flat out refused to go to the hospital, insisting that he was fine. But seeing the bandages on several parts of his body made Evan realize that this was all true—Greg was gone. Now, sitting and waiting, she wavered between faith and fear. In all of the turmoil, the one conversation that she needed to have, she hadn't.

  Evan stood up. “Mimi, I’ll be right back,” she said leaving her friend with a shocked look on her face. Evan walked out of the pew, passing police officers and investigators until she reached the front of the church away from the distractions and noise.

  She walked up the stairs and through the back door to the church offices. She stopped and listened; there was only silence. After the police interviewed staff, everyone was allowed to leave and now it was quiet, such a change from the hustle in the sanctuary. Evan opened her office door, turned on the lamp, closed the office door and fell on her knees before the Lord.

  Chapter 109

  Greg could feel the car slowing down. He lifted his head to see if he could hear anything unusual. The car stopped. He heard voices, then he heard two car doors open and then two car doors close, causing the car to shake and he knew the kidnappers had gotten out of the vehicle. The trunk locked popped open and was lifted. He heard another vehicle drive up and park. Lord, I trust you and I believe you. He could see the illumination of sunlight although he could make out nothing more than that through the fabric of the hood on his head.

  “Get him out.” The man’s voice was deep and it wasn’t familiar. Multiple hands grabbed at him and pain shot through his body from the multiple kicks he had suffered before having been forced into the cramped space in the trunk. Removing him from the trunk proved harder for the men than throwing him inside had been. He could feel their struggle. One of them swore loudly and then he heard laughter from far off.

  Once out, they threw him on the ground and he hit the dirt hard, knocking the wind from his chest.

  “Remove the tape from his legs and make him walk, I’m not carrying his big behind in there,” another man could be heard saying.

  While lying on his side on top of a cold rocky surface, he heard the stripping of the tape and he felt his legs freed. Someone pulled him up by his shirt. His legs felt weak as he tried to stand up. Someone kicked the back of one causing it to buckle beneath him as he fell onto the floor.

  “Get up punk,” someone said, as the thugs laughed.

  As Greg struggled to get up without the use of his hands, someone pulled him up by his shirt. Standing on his feet, Greg could hear the loud creaki
ng of the door opening as a heavy hand pushed him in the middle of back.

  “Keep moving,” the man ordered.

  Greg took light steps as he walked cautiously. The place felt very familiar: the smell, the stench of age and rust…the warehouse. Suddenly, he felt a push in the center of his chest that caused him to fall backward. Not realizing that a chair was positioned to catch him, he stumbled.

  I will live and not die.

  Chapter 110

  Charlotte had been crying all night. Finding out that Leon was being transferred had ruined all of the plans that she had for the two of them. Waking up, she didn’t want to get out of bed. The phone rang, startling her; it was Leon, calling to tell her that he’d been thinking. His voice was low as he whispered how they would try again for another baby before he was transferred. She would then quit her job at the prison and move to California, where they would be married.

  “Charlotte, do you hear me?” Leon whispered.

  “Yes,” she responded emotionally.

  “I’ve got to do something before I leave so I need to get out of here today. Make it happen for me.”

  She sat up from her bed, “I don’t know about today, Leon,” she said.

  “It has to be today,” he said.

  Charlotte had to think quickly, as Franklin, who could be counted on to help her, was off today.

  “Leon, let’s do it another day, I can’t come up with anybody today.”

  “Tomorrow isn’t an option; only today. I need you to make it happen,” he said.

  She felt guilty that she was disappointing him again. “I’ll work something out. You’re going to have to get yourself to the nurse’s station at one o’clock. That’ll be the only way I can get you out.” Leon hung up and Charlotte took a deep breath. She was willing to make any sacrifice for the man because he was the only one willing to make sacrifices for her. She looked around her bedroom. She was going to leave all of this behind and although she’d worked so hard for her furniture and flat screen television, none of it mattered anymore if Leon was gone. The phone rang. She answered it without looking at the caller ID assuming that it was Leon again. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Johnson?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte answered.

  “This is Dr. Richards from Carter Medical Center,” the caller identified himself.

  Charlotte remembered; Dr. Richards had performed her D&C. She wanted to forget him, the hospital and that day.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “We performed an analysis of the vitamin packet that you provided to us when you were admitted that was given to you by your midwife.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte sat down on the edge of her bed wondering why this man was calling her.

  “The analysis confirmed that there was a combination of sodium hydrochlorite, diphacinone, bromadiolone, with a minute amount of vitamin D.”

  Charlotte sighed and scratched her head. Why is this man acting like I am supposed to know what he’s talking about? “What does that mean?”

  “Whoever gave that to you was trying to kill your baby and as a matter of fact, you’re pretty lucky to be alive yourself,” Dr. Richards said.

  Chapter 111

  Victoria started her bubble bath then turned Frederic Chopin on her surround sound audio system. Classical piano always calmed her and she knew each piece by heart. While her bath ran, Victoria walked into her closet for her slippers and robe. She looked around, realizing that she really did need to reorganize and now that she thought about it, she might need to go through all of this stuff and donate some of it to charity.

  Victoria took off her pink sweats before sitting on her cushioned bench in the middle of the closet. She threw them to the side and yawned. She glanced over at her shoes and tilted her head to the side. She never placed her black Christian Dior stilettos next to her cream-colored sling backs. She never placed shoes so different so close together. Curious, Victoria stood up and walked over to the shoes to remove the black stilettos. She held them up and checked the bottom of them. Nothing unusual. Looking for their original placement, she found a pair of wedge heels in its space. She snatched the wedges from the shelf.

  Victoria stood in her underwear looking around her closet. Her heart began to race; she threw both pairs of shoes on the floor and walked to the section of the closet where she kept her clothes. Victoria rummaged through the rows of shirts, skirts and dresses. Like a wild woman, she turned around and looked at her accessory table. She pawed furiously through her accessories. Realizing that she was losing control, she fell to the floor, closed her eyes and dropped her head. As she attempted to gain her composure, she opened her eyes and out of her left peripheral vision she saw a broken Cameo necklace on the carpet. She picked it up.

  Chapter 112

  Greg heard footsteps walking around him as he sat in the chair. He tensed up every time the steps seemed close, bracing himself for what could be a hit to the head or face at any time. He listened closely for any distinction in the laughter or voices in their conversations. He couldn’t be sure how many there were but he guessed maybe three or four men.

  Greg heard footsteps approach his chair then a pause, the smell of a freshly smoked cigarette made him aware that someone was in front of him. He tightened his fists and closed his eyes, expecting a hit at any moment. Instead, hands tugged at the bag over his head as he heard scissors cutting through the thick duct tape, loosening the bag around his neck.

  Nothing was said as the tape and bag were removed. As if seeing light for the first time, Greg blinked repeatedly to adjust his eyesight.

  “Are you okay?” James asked, sitting in full police uniform on the edge of the table staring in his face.

  Greg stared at the man he thought he knew in front of him but didn’t reply; his stunned silence said enough.

  James smiled. “Ben really should have kept his nose out of this situation with Devon. He opened a can of worms and it’s just caused so many problems.”

  “Greg, this is William Kazinsky,” James pointed to an older man wearing slacks, expensive Italian shoes and rolled up sleeves.

  The man walked up to Greg and held out his hand. Greg stared down at it with a clenched jaw. William laughed and withdrew the gesture realizing that Greg’s hands were still tied behind his back. “It’s nice to meet you Pastor; I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Greg eyed his surroundings then looked over at the two uniformed police officers standing on either side of him.

  “And these are my Officers Hernandez and White,” James said.

  Greg sat up straight and lifted his chin as he glared at James. “Is this how your plan went when you killed Devon?”

  James smiled. “You’re actually sitting in the exact chair that Devon sat in. You should have seen him, looking like a scared little boy about to cry for his mother. And Tim. That skinny thing almost crapped his pants.” James stuck out his lips pouting; mocking Tim. Everyone in the room laughed at James' imitation.

  “You know, Greg, I actually liked Devon,” James said, walking around in his police uniform with his state issued piece on his side. “I don’t like killing people, I only do what I have to do. It’s never personal.”

  Greg shifted in his seat as a sharp pain ran up and down his arms from being tied behind his back so long.

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this. I actually like you. You were a great cop and a good preacher. I don’t necessarily believe what you believe but I don’t knock anybody’s beliefs if it works for them,” James said.

  “You have sold your soul to the devil and for what, money?” Greg asked, staring James in his eyes.

  The sounds of heavy clapping drew everyone’s attention to the back of the warehouse where a dark figure emerged from the shadows with slow steady claps. “Bravo to the fake Pastor of JMC,” Leon said with a smile on his face, coming into the light to be seen by everyone.

  Except for looking aged and slightly bulkier in his unusual gray prison uniform, Leon was as Greg rem
embered. He walked over to where Greg sat in the middle of the room.

  “Assistant Pastor Greg Pharell, it’s good to see you again.”

  Greg’s heart throbbed in his chest from the anxiety of helplessly looking at the man who took pleasure in harassing him, his wife and his church.

  “You look surprised,” Leon laughed. “I thought that we should both satisfy our curiosity of the other before I was transferred to California and before you were placed in your box in that hole six feet under.”

  “If you're assuming that death scares me then you're assuming wrong. I’m not like you Leon, for me to live is Christ but to die is gain,” Greg said, sitting erect in the chair.

  Leon stared at Greg with frozen contempt. He looked over at one of the officers. “Give me a chair.” White dragged the other gray fold-up chair over to Leon who placed the chair directly in front of Greg and sat down. After looking at Greg a little while longer, he laughed. “I’ll say that you have plenty of heart. You’re tied up and you’re still bucking up like a champ. William, do you see this?” Leon turned around to look at William.

  “I see it,” William answered.

  Greg squirmed in his seat uncomfortably; his arms and wrists were racked with pain.

  Leon snapped his fingers. “Somebody free his hands. He’s about to die so at least let him be comfortable.”

  Officer Hernandez walked up to Greg and cut the tape around his wrists. Greg felt instant relief almost sighing audibly as he rubbed his wrists and shoulders.

  “Does that feel better?” Leon asked.

  Greg relaxed in his chair. “Did you ever believe what you preached because I believed that you did and that lit a fire in me.”

  “Spare me your holy rhetoric.” Leon leaned in closer to Greg. “Are you stupid or something? Look around, this is where being a holy roller has gotten you,” he said, causing the other men to laugh.