"With pornography?" Natasha asked.
Anne nodded. "Among other things. One day I came into the office late to pick up something and caught him..." she cleared her throat, "on the coach with our sixteen year old student worker."
Natasha asked faintly, "was the student male or female?"
Anne hung her head and shook it. "For you to ask means you know he was bisexual."
Natasha nodded.
"This time it was a girl. However, on a number of occasions I've seen him leave the office with men. They looked too chummy to be just friends."
"What about his wife?" Natasha asked. "Did she know about this?"
Anne shrugged. "There are always rumors about his sexual exploits. So many of them I don't know if she knew about it or she just dismissed them as rumors. He propositioned one pastor in training late last year and they were arguing loudly in his office. The pastor in training said he was going to expose him and Edward threatened him."
Anne cleared her throat and paused for a long time. "Shortly after I saw him driving a brand new BMW. Could be that he rethought his threat?"
"Isn't he friends with your husband?" Natasha asked seriously. "Were you comfortable with that?"
Anne laughed. "They played golf with a group. They were not bosom buddies."
"But someone wants both of them dead," Natasha said, "that to me shows that there is some common denominator."
Anne frowned. "I have no idea who would want them both dead. I can understand Edward having enemies, but not D.M."
Natasha frowned. "Tell me about Ryan Bancroft."
"He's a pig of the lowest order," Anne said without heat.
"Why?" Natasha asked.
Anne looked at her solemnly. "You know, we grew up in the same district."
"You and Bancroft?" Natasha asked alarmed.
Anne nodded. "The whole Bancroft family left before you were born."
"Fishing village." Natasha said recalling Micah Bancroft's reciting of his family history and then Harriet's background to Taj's adoption.
"You are Net! Oh my gosh," she looked at Anne in horror. "You are Taj's birth mother and Bancroft is the father!"
She looked up because she heard a gasp at the entrance to the waiting room.
Taj was walking toward them. He froze in mid-walk and gazed at Anne's guilty face in consternation.
Chapter Twelve
Taj was happy that it was the weekend. He went to the university church like a zombie and barely registered the sermon. He remembered that his phone was vibrating throughout the service though, but he hadn't as much as glanced at it.
Bancroft had been sitting at the front with his wife Celeste and Taj hadn't been able to take his eyes off him. His thought processes since he heard Anne's confession were just not the same. It had been a shock to him that Anne Carter was his mother. He had suspected that he and Bancroft were related in some way but to hear that Bancroft was his biological father was a bit of a shocker—jolting, if he was to be honest with himself.
He had spent the day in bed after the service and then had reluctantly gotten up and looked at his phone.
He had twenty missed calls from Natasha, three from Anne, and one from the only father he had ever known, Gersham Jackson.
He called his father first, making it a brief one—he was not yet ready to tell him the drama that was unfolding in his life. Next, he called back Natasha.
"Hey," Natasha answered on the first ring. She sounded cautious. "Are you okay? I couldn't hear from you, I was about to panic."
"I was at church," Taj said lazily.
Natasha cleared her throat. "D.M. Carter is awake. He got stuck with the needle from behind and he collapsed shortly after so he can't tell us a thing about his attacker. He is pretty vague about the reason why this would happen. His doctor says he will be fine, but I couldn't get to grill him the way I wanted to because he's still weak."
Taj walked out to his patio in the back. "I am happy that he's going to be fine. At least Anne won't be a widow."
"Er...about that," Natasha cleared her throat, "I spoke to Anne and she said your parentage was not meant to be a secret she had been biding her time to tell you."
Taj squeezed his eyes shut. "I have not really processed all of that yet. I don't think I am ready to talk about it."
"Want to go somewhere…" Natasha asked, "take a break from this school?"
Taj shrugged and then realized that she could not see him. "A change of scenery would be good. I was thinking of going to see my friends April and Shemar and spend the rest of the weekend with them."
"Good idea," Natasha said.
"But," Taj said quickly, "since you are asking me on a date. I will go wherever you take me."
Natasha laughed, "A date huh? I have to deliver a package to my mother in Parotee. Want to come?"
Taj stiffened. "Is that the place where, he cleared his throat where er..."
"You were conceived. Yes." Natasha finished for him sympathetically. "This must be a shock for you."
"Not really, but a shock where my biological father is concerned," Taj said, "I just never thought that Anne Carter was my mother. My gosh, she's so young looking."
"She had you when she was seventeen." Natasha said. "Today when I visited D.M. Carter she said she wanted to talk to you—to explain."
"What time are you leaving?" Taj asked after a pause. He was not sure he wanted to hear about his biological parents right now.
"Pick you up at five. We'll stop at my apartment in Santa Cruz and then drive over to Parottee."
When Natasha picked up Taj she realized that he wasn't really in the mood to talk. His brown eyes, which usually had an inquiring spark, were now flat even a little sad.
She drove down from Mount Faith and instantly felt the difference in temperature when she reached the foot of the hill. The difference in temperature made it hard for her to believe that she was in the same country.
The plains of Santa Cruz were humid and hot, while the hills of Malvern, especially at Mount Faith, were cool, almost cold. She turned on the AC when they hit the town, and glanced over at Taj.
"That's the office over there," she pointed to the police station.
Taj looked over politely. "Nice yard."
Natasha grinned. "Hardly, but we get used to it."
She drove further and turned into a residential area with several large houses and apartments. Her three-story apartment building was on a slight incline. She was on the second floor at the very end of the building. The garden was well kept with bougainvilleas in various colors.
Taj pushed his hand in his pocket and gazed at the bougainvilleas absentmindedly, as if he wasn't really seeing anything.
Natasha was gazing at him worriedly. She opened her door and stood there for a while. "Want to come inside?"
Taj turned around and half smiled. "Sorry to be such a wet blanket."
"I totally understand," Natasha said, heading into her spacious apartment. "It's so good to be home."
She threw down her car keys on the center table in her living room and inhaled. "It smells like home."
Taj sniffed the air. "It smells like potpourri."
Natasha giggled. "So here is where I live when I have the chance to. I bought it. Still paying mortgage on it, but it's mine."
Taj looked around. "Nice."
There was an open area divided by an archway, which led to the kitchen and a small dining nook. He could see all the way to her balcony outside. He went outside and looked out. It was a nice enough view of mountains and what looked like farmlands.
Natasha went into her room and then came out with the package that she had gotten from her aunt for her mother. "Harry left this here for me on Thursday…left it on my bed."
"You and Harry are pretty close," Taj said jealously, "he even goes into your bedroom."
Natasha nodded. "Only when told to. He has one of my spare keys. I would trust him with my life, I have to."
Taj raked his eyes o
ver her. She was in black jeans pants that fitted her slender curves like a glove and a tight t-shirt that had a cat face in the middle.
Which red-blooded heterosexual male in their right minds would not find her desirable? He thought.
"I know what you are thinking," Natasha said cheekily, "but trust me, Harry does not find me remotely attractive."
Taj shook his head. "Not a chance. He's a man."
She laughed. "That's because you have not met Kim. She is totally the sweetest, prettiest, funniest, person you have ever met. Besides, Harry is offended by my slimness. He loves women with a little meat on their bones."
Taj crooked his finger at her. "Come here. I need a hug."
Natasha's eyes softened. "Oh Taj, I understand."
"No you don't." Taj said hugging her, "I haven't even processed it myself." He molded her slim curves to his. "I can't believe that I am in competition for the presidency of the university with my own father and my mother is my secretary. What a weird twisted scenario this is."
"Added to that," Natasha said, hugging him tighter, "is that both of them are our top suspects in the murder investigation at this point."
Taj inhaled and then eased away from her. "I remember when I let myself imagine who my biological parents were this was not it—potential murderers did not figure into the equation."
"What were they like in your imagination?" Natasha asked, looking at him warmly.
"My mother was a desperate housewife and my father a working man. Maybe a medical doctor," Taj said, "Not this." He sighed. "Do you realize that all of those siblings that Micah was talking about I am related to? I have brothers and sisters." His voice took on a feverish excitement. "I have always wanted siblings. Hell Micah is my brother and I like him."
Natasha shook her head. "Sorry to tell you this Taj but siblings are not always that great to have."
Taj leaned back against the wall. "I know, but it is still exciting to think about, at least for the moment."
Natasha frowned. "Do you think Bancroft knows about you?"
Taj shook his head ruefully. "No, I am sure of that. He is very sure that he doesn't have any skeletons in his closet, and here I am, a skeleton."
"I am sure all will be revealed when you talk to Anne. Ready?" she walked back into the living room area. "I don't want to get to Parottee too late. I want you to see the most glorious sunset in Jamaica."
"Really?" Taj asked, "I thought Negril had the most glorious sunset."
"That's tourist talk," Natasha said, "let’s go."
They reached the community just in time. It was located along a five-mile strip of land between a pond on one side and the sea on the other.
Taj got out of the car just when the sky exploded in a visual feast of reds and oranges, and the sun was slowly making its way down toward the sea.
"This is spectacular," he breathed. "Nature speaks of her creator like nothing else can."
Natasha got out of the vehicle slower than he had—a man on a bicycle passed them with a bunch of bananas on his head and a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.
The man waved. "Bugsy, long time no see!"
Natasha waved back. "Work and stress Maas Tim, work and stress."
He nodded. "Take care of yourself yah Bugsy, and don't let Babylon stress yuh out."
"Bugsy?" Taj asked incredulously. Then he started to laugh.
"You better get used to it." Natasha said squinting at him. "I am about to go to my mother's house. That means, you will be hearing Bugsy this and Bugsy that for the whole evening. Try to keep a straight face."
"But why Bugsy?" Taj asked.
"Apparently, I used to play with bugs when I was younger," Natasha said grinning, "it was a hobby."
Taj laughed even harder and leaned up on the car. " And Babylon? Why would that ancient city stress you out?"
"Babylon is Jamaican code word for the police. Are you sure you grew up here?"
They drove slowly through the streets of Parottee. The night air was mild with a gentle wind blowing from the sea, you could hear the sea lapping on the seashore.
Taj felt a curious peace, as if Parottee had slowed down his mind somewhat and was massaging his brain. He actually felt lighter.
Natasha slowed to a crawl at a run down shack and pointed. "That's where Annette Fowler used to live."
The place was overgrown with weeds and looked sad as if the experiences there were too much for the building to bear.
"You mean Anne Carter?"
Natasha nodded and drove a bit faster. "Yes, when she lived here she was Annette Fowler, the main singer in the church choir."
She then slowed down again. "From Anne's descriptions, that's where the Bancrofts used to live."
Taj stared at the place curiously; it was a bigger place with a well-kept lawn.
He pulled back in his head. "So Annette was the poor girl, and Ryan the better off guy."
Natasha shrugged. "I guess."
Taj felt his mind ticking over, wanting to hear the background to their story. They had almost been neighbors. He hardly saw the landmarks that Natasha pointed out, or heard her chatter.
They drove up at a modest dwelling, an old style Jamaican structure with a donkey tied up at the front yard.
He met her mother—a large woman who had a husky voice and her sister Pauline who lived at the house with her husband—a very slim fisherman who did not say much.
They were happy to see Natasha. They turned on the television to the nightly news and insisted on speaking above the noise. Her mother inquired about her spiritual life and warned her about losing her soul to the devil.
Her sister gave him a thorough once over and declared him acceptable. They pushed food on him until he couldn't eat anymore. They laughed and chatted until Natasha got up to go.
They drove off after much hugging and fussing. Taj looked over at Bugsy and smiled...he mentally corrected himself, Natasha.
"This seemed like a nice place to grow up."
"It was," Natasha said, "we spent more time on the beach than inside. We watched for the fishermen when they would come in from sea and got the choicest fishes. We cried whenever we lost a fisherman. We are a close-knit community. Births, deaths, and marriages are always a big deal around here. I honestly don't know if there is anyone who can call himself or herself lonely in this part of Jamaica. We still have the community spirit."
"And this is where I was conceived," Taj said heavily, "by people from this community who gave me up for adoption and then forgot about me."
Natasha looked at him, her eyes glistening, "I doubt Anne Carter forgot you or else she would not have looked for you and found some way to bring you back. That doesn't sound like willful abandonment to me."
"You think she's the one who worked it out for me to be here don't you?"
Natasha nodded and cleared her throat. "And since the recent revelations, Harry and I have theorized that this may be the reason why she killed Edward Carlisle. She needed to create a space for you on the university campus."
"No," Taj whispered. "Anne Carter is no killer."
"Yes," Natasha said, " unfortunately, this is the motive we have been looking for."
"So explain to me why she would try to kill her own husband then?" Taj asked. "And don't forget I was approached to set up a psychiatry center before the whole presidency thing."
Natasha shrugged. "Maybe she wanted to get him out of the way as well. I don't know. We are going to question him soon and when we do, if we don't get some concrete answers your family reunion is going to be taking an ugly turn."
Taj sighed.
They drove in silence to the Mount Faith University campus. Natasha let out a very mentally tired Taj who had kissed her on her forehead.
She headed toward her dorm and sat in the car for a few minutes thinking. She liked Taj a lot more than was professionally acceptable. Indeed, she had passed that stage long ago when she had to convince herself that she didn't have feelings for him. She w
ished she could help him now and in the process solve her case. Hopefully, life could go back to some semblance of normality.
Chapter Thirteen
Taj woke up Sunday morning and threw his racket and his towel into his gym bag. He would shower at the gym this time. He was looking forward to a particularly hard day of squash where he could unleash his frustration on the court walls.
He had not played with Bancroft since that first game. He entered the squash court and was surprised to see Bancroft on court, especially since it was Sunday and because Bancroft had said that he only played on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday. What was he doing here?
Bancroft barely glanced at him. Taj was getting used to Bancroft's ill-mannered ways by now and so Taj barely nodded at him. It seemed as if Bancroft had been at the courts for a while, seeing that he was sweating profusely.
"Bad morning?" Taj asked tongue in cheek as he walked on the court.
Bancroft growled, "I am concerned."
"About what?" Taj asked, surprised that Bancroft would want to confess something to him.
"That Edward Carlisle was murdered." he said shortly. "And all is not what it seems."
He handed the ball to Taj. "You serve."
The ball almost fell out of Taj's nerveless fingers. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," Bancroft said abruptly. "And yes it's a bad morning. Thanks for asking."
Taj smirked. "Why do you think Carlisle was murdered?"
"I wasn't sure," Bancroft swatted the ball on the wall, huffing a little, "but then I heard that Carter was in hospital with a near heart attack and then I got really curious. I also heard that you suggested that the doctors should look into a potassium overdose."
He shook his head. "That was a good call."
He glanced at Taj, a light of respect in his eye as he swerved his arm. "I have a Masters in Bio Chemistry you know."
Taj shrugged. "Good for you."
"Something is just not right," Bancroft said. "I am now concerned that all is not what it seems."
Taj nodded. "I thought you didn't like Carter."
"I don't," Bancroft said. "Didn't much care for Carlisle either."
Saving Face (Mount Faith Series: Book 1) Page 10