Without Faith

by Leslie J. Sherrod

  The files I’d found in the office must have been his, I realized.

  Jenellis chuckled. “You’re so smart, huh?” She kept smiling. “You think all I’ve been after is money? Let me explain something to you. The first man I married terrorized me. He beat me and I suffered every single day I was with him. I decided that I wasn’t going to take it from him or anyone else and that changed the whole purpose of my life. As far as me having his money—he owed me for what he did to me and my girls. And as far as murder? That’s something you’re going to have to prove.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything. From what I understand, your own daughter is ready to rat you out. It’s a shame she has to be hidden from you, her own mother.”

  I was taking notes as their conversation bounced back and forth. I also was creeping unnoticed closer to the door. David was in my way, but he appeared to be too engrossed in the heated dialogue to really pay me any mind.

  “There is absolutely no way that I would ever hurt either of my daughters.” Jenellis spoke evenly, pointedly to Brayden.

  “And yet, one is already dead. Shot to death two months ago, burned beyond recognition. And the other has been in hiding, staging her own kidnapping just to stay out of your view.”

  “If that is what you want to believe, I can’t help you. I’m sorry it’s come to this. I really liked you, but I can’t let you hurt me or my daughters. And I liked you too, David.” She smiled sadly at the younger man.

  She’d said “daughters.” I did not miss that. Impossible. The other one was dead, right? I wanted something to make sense. I wanted to get out of there.

  Before anyone could say another word or move, both men suddenly dropped lifeless to the floor and I screamed.

  “What . . . what happened?” I ducked, I ran, I kept screaming.

  “Oh, hush, Ms. St. James.” Jenellis rolled her eyes. “They’ll be okay. Just a little tranquilized until we decide what to do with them.”

  “We?” I gasped, still trying to understand how Jenellis had even shot them. Her hands were empty.

  “Don’t be silly. You would never last as my partner. Would she?”

  “Never.” A voice came from behind me.

  Silver.

  A sophisticated-looking tranquilizer gun hung from her right hand.

  “I . . . I don’t understand.” I tried to speak quickly because I didn’t think a pair of scissors was any match for that thing in Silver’s hand, and I didn’t know if they had yet decided on a plan for me.

  “That fool thought I was an idiot. I figured out his game a long time ago. I only wanted to see how much he thought he knew, and he just told me. I do actually like him, but, unfortunately, he is messing with my mission.”

  “Mission?”

  “Ms. St. James, you and I really are on the same side. We just go about getting results in two very different ways. See, all Brayden saw was that the men I’ve been with are wealthy; what he did not realize is that they all—all of them—had a history of abusing women. After my experience with Sheldon, I decided to do something about it. Whereas you advocate talking it through and ‘therapitizing’ these creatures, if that’s even a word, I just get straight to the point. I make sure these dirt bags know what it means to suffer, that they know what it means to be at the painful mercy of someone bigger and stronger than them.”

  “But only rich dirt bags, right?”

  “Hey, teaching these bastards a lesson isn’t free. And the way I see it, those pigs didn’t deserve their wealth. For what I’ve been through, I deserve every last penny they have.”

  “You and you alone. You have become the representative and the sole compensated victim of abused women everywhere.”

  “If I’m the one brave enough to step up, why shouldn’t I be the one to live it up? Come on, sister, I’m sure that, as a therapist, you see firsthand the hurt, the pain, the suffering that so many women endure because of domestic abuse. Am I really wrong for what I do?”

  “Yes, I do see the hurt, the pain, and the suffering and I recognize the devastation abuse of any nature can cause.” I glanced over at Silver, who quickly looked away. “But there are ways to address it that bring healing and real help, and not simply revenge. Think about it, Ms. Walker, we’re standing here with two men down—two innocent men, mind you—and a trail of other bodies over the past, what, ten years? And are you really healed and whole?”

  “I’m winning.”

  “So, basically, you’re admitting to murder and calling yourself righteous?” Even as I asked her, RiChard flashed through my mind. The social revolutionary who accepted any cost for the sake of freedom as he defined it.

  Roman.

  He was still out there and I was still here.

  God, don’t let my son be the ultimate cost for RiChard’s self-directed quest for justice and my willingness not to question him. There were principles, spiritual and otherwise, that were surfacing in my well of thoughts and feelings, but I did not have time to draw them up, to examine them.

  I just needed to get out of there.

  Alive.

  As if reading my mind, Jenellis gave me a large smile. “You really are a nice person. I am so sorry that you had to get in the middle of this. I must admit, I guess there is some value in therapy. Now that I’ve gotten all this out, I do feel better about myself. Silver, can you please see Ms. St. James out while I tend to these two? The tranquilizer should be wearing off soon, and I’m still deciding how to end this painlessly for both of them after I find out the last thing I need to know.”

  Silver immediately pointed the tranquilizer gun at me. “Let’s go.” When I didn’t immediately move, she added, “You can walk out or I can drag you out. Your choice. Let’s go.”

  The scissors in my waistband would do me no good if I was sedated, I decided. I needed the right moment to move, and this wasn’t it; though I was not sure what that moment would be—or even what I would do if and when the moment came.

  Survive, I reminded myself. For the sake of my son, I convinced myself, trying to brace for possible action that would involve stepping out way beyond anything I’d ever come close to doing.

  Chapter 41

  I shook as I walked ahead of her, the tranquilizer gun brushing my ear.

  “What else does your mother need to know? I might be able to help.” I was reaching for anything at this point that could prolong my survival.

  “To the car,” she demanded, nudging me toward an old, battered Buick.

  “Whose car is this?” I asked.

  “Detective Fields,” she answered as we both crunched through the gravel lot.

  “Detective Fields?” I felt hope rise. “Where is he?” And then everything in me collapsed. The window. The back seat. I could see his lifeless body.

  “He’s sedated?” I asked, hopeful.

  “I don’t know.” Silver’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I shot him twice with the tranquilizer gun and it was too much. He hasn’t woken up yet and I haven’t touched him.”

  I realized in that moment that she was shaking as much as I was.

  But her nerves weren’t stopping her from action.

  “Hands,” she demanded. When I hesitated, she pushed the tip of the tranquilizer gun to my neck. There was nothing I would be able to do unconscious—or worse. I looked over at the detective crumpled in the back seat, hoping, praying that the man was okay. I held out my hands and she put handcuffs around them, led me to the back seat, pushed me down next to the unmoving detective. The scissors fell to the floor of the car. She picked them up, looked at me, and threw them as far away as she could.

  No! I wanted to scream, watching the shears, my sole escape plan, go sailing through the wind. She then got out a second pair of cuffs and wrapped them around my ankles.

  “You don’t have to do this, Silver. I need to get to my son, please! He’s missing and I cannot be any later in my search to find him!”

  “It’s too late for me.” She used the seat belts t
o secure me. “I tried to get away from her, my mother, but she found me anyway. She was the one who had Ms. Mona’s house firebombed to get me out of there. Paid off one of the dope boys on her street to do it. Could have killed that poor, sweet old lady. And David, too, even though he apparently was helping my mother this whole time. See what I’m working with here?”

  She shook her head, quivering all over. “And that office building where I was hiding? She came up to the security camera late last night and smiled in it. Smiled in it, ’cause she knew I was watching those monitors in the janitor’s closet. Smiled and then walked away. I can’t hide from her, so I’ve got no choice but to join her once again.”

  I made a quick decision to go into therapy mode. Maybe if I encouraged her to talk and showed her compassion, she would have compassion on me. “How did she find you?”

  “By following you.” She started the car and slammed down on the accelerator. We began moving down a long driveway.

  “I am so sorry.” So much for showing compassion. The girl probably hated my presence in her life.

  “It’s not your fault. If it wasn’t you, she would have found another way. But you’re good at what you do. You’re brave. You get answers. That’s why they picked you.”

  I raised an eyebrow and she noticed.

  “I thought it was a random Google search that brought us all together?” Google was how I’d been getting my directions lately, so why wouldn’t I have believed otherwise?

  “After what you did a couple of years ago, not giving up until you found out whether there really was a little girl named Hope? You’re a legend in your field. You came recommended to them, my mother and Brayden, though they had different reasons for coming to you.”

  I had no idea that people knew about my adventures from two years ago and were talking about it now—enough that Jenellis and Brayden landed on my doorstep. I was not sure whether to feel honored or petrified, scared that other people would start coming to me for help beyond what I was really there to do—assuming I even survived this horror.

  Survive!

  It wasn’t an option.

  It made sense in a way now, that Jenellis had privately approached me about finding out Brayden’s relationship background. She thought I would be willing to dig.

  But I only dug for answers when I really needed them.

  I’d been doing my best not to look at the man crumpled over next to me. It was all too disturbing. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I did not know what Silver’s intents for me were, if she was even telling a lick of truth. I was surprised that I even had sane thoughts still floating in my head, questions that were keeping me going; but I knew that survival instincts will kick in when needed. When this entire nightmare was over and both my son and I were back home, I’d have time to address the trauma of the past few days. Shoot, I was going to need a therapist myself.

  “Silver, how do you know all this?”

  She looked at me through the rearview mirror, and lowered her voice even more. “Brayden. He was trying to help me—me and my sister. He was the one who got the detective involved. He agreed to hide us, help us get new identities eventually if we helped bring down my mom. It’s a hard thing to do, but she needs to be stopped for what she is doing to everyone, for how she is trying to control us, what she was making my sister and me do to help her, and we both obeyed out of fear for our own lives. You haven’t seen my mom in action.” She looked at me in the rearview mirror. “She’s ruthless.”

  “Your sister, Contessa.” I spoke quickly, a revelation coming to me. “Also known as Gold. She was killed a couple of months ago, supposedly, but it was a front, right? She really wasn’t murdered, but your mom needed to think she was dead. And you were supposed to be kidnapped earlier this week so you could have an exit, and escape from her, but the plan fell apart when Gold, and not you, was accidentally targeted for the fake kidnapping.”

  Silver slammed on the brakes. All that was around us were trees and more trees. Where in the world are we?

  “How did you know my sister was still alive?” She turned to face me. Anger, sorrow, and fear were all peeking through in her skillfully crafted facial features.

  “The butterfly tattoo,” I asserted. “I pulled up the surveillance video that the news was showing of her being pushed into a car. I saw the tattoo on her neck when I zoomed in on a still shot.”

  Silver closed her eyes and shook her head. “My sister and that tattoo. I told her when she got it right after her fake killing that it would do more harm than good, but she insisted on doing it anyway to celebrate her transformation.”

  “Transforming to a new life away from your mom?”

  “Not only in that way. My sister was like you, talking about faith and God and how she believed that despite our pasts and our mother and her men, that she could have a new life and be free just by believing. To her, the butterfly was a symbol of her personal change. She called herself a new creation in Christ and was trying to get me to buy into it. She gave me that necklace I gave you, and then she held on to the other half of the broken butterfly on her own chain, saying that once I was on the other side of freedom with her, we would be whole together, like the charm. But I told you how I feel about God and all that, and look at what’s happened now. What’s changed? Ain’t nothing new.”

  “Faith is believing even when you can’t see it, otherwise it wouldn’t be called faith.” I exhaled, trying to absorb my own words. “Where is Contessa now?”

  “That’s the million dollar question. The police and the media put it out there that it was me who was being looked for to try to keep my mother off her trail, but nobody really seems to know where Contessa is.”

  “Who arranged everything?”

  “Brayden and David, but they claim that they don’t know what happened.”

  “You think your mother was a step ahead of everyone and did something to her?”

  “No. That’s why you’re still alive. She thinks you can somehow help find her.”

  Things make more sense now, I considered. Brayden came here looking for Silver and Jenellis came here looking for Gold. David had been working as a secret bridge between both of them, for some reason, and everyone thought I had answers to everything. And Silver, for her part, was just doing what she thought she needed to do to survive it all.

  Survive!

  I thought about what Silver had said. I thought about Brayden, David, Jenellis, the events of the past few days...

  “Wait a minute, that house that was firebombed, Ms. Mona’s, she was David’s grandmother, right?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Is Ms. Mona’s name really Ramona?”

  “I . . . I think so, why are you asking?”

  I remembered the death notice of Sheldon Long; his parents were listed as Ramona K. M. Gilbert and Sydney Long. Perhaps the M in Ramona’s name was an abbreviation for her maiden name or a previously married name of . . . Moore, which was Brayden’s last name. It was a long shot, I knew, but I was desperate. I needed something to add up.

  I shared my observations about the death notice with Silver. “Also,” I continued, “when I first met your mother, she said that she and Brayden had three children between the two of them. You and Contessa account for two; do you know who Brayden’s child is?”

  “We never met him. Brayden said his son was a freshman at Yale, studying pre-med.”

  “But now we know he was lying about himself, so he probably was lying about his son too. What is David’s last name?” My brain was trying to calculate all this information, trying to figure out what it all equaled.

  “Forbes? Fordham? Something like that,” Silver responded. “He told me once he was named after his mother, but, apparently, there’s a lot he didn’t tell me. Wait a minute, are you thinking that—”

  “When did David start hanging around the club where you and your sister were working?”

  “Just in the past few months. He said he’d recently moved from his fat
her’s house in Shepherd Hills to help take care of his grandmother. ”

  Shepherd Hills! She had not been in the room when Brayden said that was where he was from.

  “Right before your mom met Brayden.”

  Maybe what I was thinking really wasn’t a long shot. It would definitely offer an explanation as to why Brayden had such a high interest in Jenellis’s past. If what I was thinking was correct, that meant David was Brayden’s son. And that would make Sheldon, Jenellis’s first husband, Brayden’s half brother.

  “I see where you’re going with this, and I guess it could be true.” Silver was quickly coming to the same conclusion. “We’d never met Sheldon’s family back when my mom was married to him. In fact, I remember she only knew his parents’ names to put in the obituary from some legal documents she’d found back then. Apparently, there were clashes over him having money and not sharing.”

  “More reason why Brayden would want to track down and research who had his late brother’s wealth. Plus, it would make sense for him to become a contestant on The Soul Mate Show if he knew that the grand prize was a date to La Chambre Rouge, the place his late brother had invested in and Jenellis had ties to it. He must have wanted to have a reason to do his own snooping here.”

  “And my mother knew that he was going to be a contestant because of the deal they have with this place, and she got me on the show to choose Brayden, not knowing that I had already been talking to him.” She paused for a moment. “What you’re saying explains why he would want to marry her. He was probably planning to do the same thing to her that she’s done to all the men she married. Get the ring on her finger, and then get her six feet under. Only this time, he would be the beneficiary.”

  “But you and Contessa? Wouldn’t you be the beneficiaries if something happened to your mom?”

  “I’ve thought about that. I think that’s why Brayden reached out to us and wanted us under the care of that detective, so that if and when my mom was out the picture, he would still have tabs on our whereabouts to finish carrying out his plans, and look like he was on the right side of the law so he would never be suspected of wrong-doing.”