He revved the engine again to emphasize his point. The group of reporters immediately parted like the Red Sea. Several continued trying to snap photos while scrambling out of the way onto the curb. Victor pressed his foot onto the gas and sped away as quickly as possible.
Sharmaine peeked over the seat to see if all was clear, and then slowly sat up. “Take me to the hospital. I want to see Leon,” she said.
“Sharmaine, you can’t. It’s a condition of your bail,” Victor answered.
“He’s my husband. I need to see him.”
Victor glanced over the back seat at her. He turned his attention back toward the traffic before speaking. “Listen to me. Do you understand that you’ve been charged with his attempted murder?”
“I know it, but I still don’t understand why they think I did it.”
“There was no forced entry into the house, and your prints are all over the gun. It’s also registered to you, Sharmaine,” Victor answered.
“What? I don’t own a gun. I’ve never owned a gun.”
“We’ll have our day in court, but until then, you can’t see Leon. I’m sorry, Sharmaine. It’s for the best. When he gets better, he’ll tell the police what happened, and then you can see him. Please, try to understand.”
“If you want, I’ll go by and check on him for you later,” Keisha offered.
“He’s not alone at the hospital, is he?” Sharmaine asked.
“No, his brothers are with him. His parents wanted to come, but they felt taking care of the children was more important.”
Sharmaine breathed a sigh of relief. Leon was the youngest of six boys, and she knew that with his five brothers surrounding him in love and prayer, he would be safe.
“Keisha, I want you to go get the children and bring them home. We need to be together as a family during this time. Let me use your phone. I want to talk to them.”
Reluctantly, Keisha handed over her cell phone and watched as Sharmaine dialed the number.
“Jeanna, it’s me, Mom. How are you?” Sharmaine said. A broad smile covered her face as she spoke.
“Mom, you are all over the news. They say you shot Dad,” Jeanna responded.
“No, honey, I would never do anything like that. It’s a big misunderstanding. Listen, I want you and your brother and sister to come home.” Sharmaine stopped speaking as she heard muffled voices on the other end of the phone, then someone began speaking.
“How dare you call my home,” her mother-in-law yelled. “My baby boy is lying in a hospital fighting for his life, and you have the nerve to call here.”
Sharmaine cringed. She and her mother-in-law had always enjoyed a great relationship. She could not believe that she honestly thought she’d shot Leon.
“Mother Cleveland, I didn’t do this. You can’t believe everything you hear on the news. I love Leon. Please, put Jeanna back on the phone.”
“Don’t you tell me what to believe. That’s the same lie you told about that nasty movie you made. Leon has been a good husband to you. He didn’t deserve the embarrassment of that movie, and he certainly didn’t deserve to be shot.”
“Please, listen to me. I would never hurt Leon. You know that I love him dearly. I don’t know what’s going on. Someone made that tape and someone shot Leon, but you have to believe it wasn’t me. Please, let me speak to Jeanna.”
“You are not going to speak to or see my grandchildren. You should be behind bars where you belong. Don’t call my home again.”
“I’m their mother. You can’t keep them away from me.”
Keisha tugged lightly on Sharmaine’s sleeve. “Don’t fight with her. Maybe it’s best if the kids just stay there for a while,” she whispered.
Sharmaine shook her head and returned to her conversation. “Listen to me, Mother Cleveland. Those are my children. You have no right to keep them from me. I’m coming to pick them up tomorrow.”
Keisha interrupted her again. “You can’t leave the state,” she whispered.
“What?” Sharmaine put her hand over the phone and stared at Keisha.
“You are charged with attempted murder. You cannot leave the state until after the trial. If you do, you will forfeit your bail and end up back in jail.”
“Then you go get them,” Sharmaine ordered.
“Sharmaine, just let them stay there. I’ll try to figure out a way to convince her to let you talk to them, but don’t fight her on this. It only adds fuel to the fire.”
Sharmaine sighed loudly. As much as it pained her, she realized Keisha was right. The last thing she needed was a battle between her and Leon’s mother. She took a deep breath and went back to the conversation. “Mother Cleveland, I did not shoot Leon, and that is not me in that tape. I don’t care if you believe me or not, but don’t poison my children’s minds against me.”
“I don’t have to take orders from you,” she answered.
Sharmaine softened her tone. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m asking you to please just give me the benefit of the doubt. The children can stay with you for a while, but please at least let me talk to them.”
“This is the last time I’m going to say this: Don’t call here again.”
Sharmaine heard the phone slam down in her ear. Keisha reached over and slowly took the cell from her. Weeping, she collapsed into Keisha’s arms.
Chapter Three
“I’m sure you didn’t sleep well in that cell. Take this and go upstairs to relax.” Keisha held her hand out with two white pills inside. Keisha and Sharmaine had just arrived at Sharmaine’s home, so Keisha offered Sharmaine a sedative; then she suggested she go to her room and lie down.
Sharmaine took the pills and swallowed them dry. “I can’t go up there to our bed. I just can’t sleep in that bed without him.”
“I understand. Are you hungry? The food in there must have been horrible. I can ask Consuela to fix you something to eat.”
“You are right. The food was horrible, but I don’t have an appetite.” Sharmaine slowly trudged into her home office and slumped sadly onto the couch.
“Tell you what; I’ll go run you a hot bath. That will relax you, so you can get some rest. Maybe you’ll feel hungry later.”
“No, I don’t want a bath. I don’t want any food. I don’t want any sleep. I want my family back,” she suddenly screamed.
Keisha gave her a side-eyed glance then slowly backed away from her. “Sharmaine, I know you are upset. I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, you are not helping at all! Why did you take my children up there in the first place? They should be here.”
“I told you; Leon asked me to take them,” Keisha answered.
“You don’t work for Leon. You work for me,” Sharmaine snapped.
Keisha looked strangely at Sharmaine. “I thought I was here to help both of you. You’ve never objected to me following his requests before.”
They were interrupted by the chime of the doorbell.
“Consuela, get the door,” Sharmaine screamed then turned toward Keisha. “I want my children home. I don’t care what Mother Cleveland has to say about it. I’m not taking orders from her. I want you to go and pick them up first thing tomorrow morning.”
“That’s not a good idea, Sharmaine,” Victor said as Consuela showed him into her office.
“I thought you’d left,” Sharmaine answered, turning around to face him.
“I tried. I couldn’t get out of the driveway for the reporters. Apparently a crowd of them followed us from the courthouse. They’ve got the whole street blocked,” Victor answered as he sat his pudgy frame down on the leather sofa. He unbuttoned his suit jacket to allow his burgeoning stomach some freedom. “I thought I’d go ahead and get a head start on working on your case. Maybe they’ll disperse later.”
“I guess we may as well,” Sharmaine answered. She folded her arms across her chest and sighed heavily.
“As I was saying, it’s not a good idea to bring your children back home. There’s a m
edia circus going on out there. They are much safer where they are.” He opened his briefcase and pulled out the morning’s newspaper. He handed it to Sharmaine.
She sat in stunned silence as she looked at her mug shot on the front page of the Atlanta Journal Constitution. Slowly, she read the article that was underneath:
Grammy award–winning singer and actress Sharmaine Cleveland has been arrested and charged with the attempted murder of her husband, Leon Terrence Cleveland. Deputies were called out to her spacious mansion in Buckhead early Thursday morning following a frantic 911 call from the couple’s maid.
When police arrived on the scene, they found Mrs. Cleveland slumped over her husband’s body in tears. Leon Cleveland was taken to Piedmont Hospital, where he is listed in serious condition. Mrs. Cleveland was taken to the Atlanta police department for questioning about the incident. Subsequently, she was charged with attempted murder.
Police have declined to provide further details, due to an ongoing investigation. An anonymous source within the police department has advised that the gun allegedly used in the incident is believed to be registered to Sharmaine Cleveland. It was found on the premises following the shooting.
Sharmaine Cleveland is a Grammy award–winning gospel songstress who has also made a name for herself as an actress. She has starred in several highly successful Christian films produced by her husband’s company. Her latest movie, Pearls of Righteousness, wrapped shooting earlier this month. Cleveland was in the news prior to this incident when a video tape of her performing sex acts was discovered and released. Cleveland is expected to be released later today following a bond hearing.
Sharmaine crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room. “This is crazy. I can’t believe any of this is happening. I did not shoot Leon,” she screamed.
Victor looked over at a worried Keisha.
“I gave her a sedative. It should kick in soon,” Keisha said.
“Shut up, Keisha. I told you before I don’t need anything but my family. I need to erase the last few weeks of my life and start all over. Everything has gone absolutely crazy, and you stuffing pills down my throat is not helping at all!” Sharmaine screamed.
“Maybe I should just leave you two alone,” Keisha offered. She stood up and solemnly walked toward the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned toward Sharmaine. “I’ll leave my cell on in case you need me later.”
“Keisha, wait,” Sharmaine said. She walked over to the door to stop her. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault, and I’m taking my hurt and anger out on you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sharmaine began to cry, and Keisha pulled her into her arms to soothe her.
Keisha held her for several moments as she wept, then she led her to the couch to sit down. Victor handed Sharmaine some tissues, and the three of them sat in silence, waiting for Sharmaine to regain her composure.
When he felt she was calm, Victor spoke. “Sharmaine, I need you to tell me everything that happened the morning that Leon was shot.”
Sharmaine sniffed loudly before answering him. “I woke up about nine-fifteen. We’d just gotten back from vacation the day before, and I was tired, so I slept a little later than usual.”
Victor turned to Keisha. “What time did you pick up the kids and leave for North Carolina?” he asked.
“It was about six-thirty when I arrived. I let myself in using my key and woke the kids. I helped them pack, and we left the house about seven,” she answered.
“Okay, according to the police report, Leon was shot sometime between 8:30 and 9:30 A.M., so it’s safe to say no one else was in the house when it happened except you, Sharmaine, and your maid. Is that right?”
“No, Consuela arrived later. She came in just as I found Leon on the floor. I told her to call nine-one-one.”
Victor pulled a notepad from his briefcase and began to scribble notes on it. “Let’s back up, Sharmaine. What happened when you woke up?”
“I was alone in bed, so I grabbed my robe and left the room. I saw blood in the hallway, and I followed it to the stairs. Leon was lying at the bottom. So, I rushed to him. As soon as I got to him, Consuela walked in.”
“Does Consuela have her own key?” he asked.
Sharmaine nodded her head.
“Okay, who else has a key to your home?” Victor inquired.
“Pierre, my personal chef, has one also, but his only fits the kitchen door because he doesn’t work every day. We don’t have anyone else working inside the house, so other than Keisha, that’s it.”
“What about your limo driver, the security guard, or your gardener?”
“No, they don’t need access to the house.”
Victor sighed very loudly and scribbled more notes on his pad.
“What’s wrong?” Sharmaine asked.
Victor brushed an unruly blonde strand of hair behind his ear before answering. “This doesn’t look good for you. You and Leon were alone in the house; there’s no sign of forced entry, and your prints are all over the gun. Frankly, I’m having trouble thinking of a viable defense for you.”
“My defense is that I’m innocent. You don’t need anything else.”
“The jails are full of people who claim to be innocent. Unfortunately, that’s not enough. Did you hear anything that morning? Was there a car driving away, or maybe a door slamming? Did you even hear the four shots that hit Leon?”
“No, I was asleep. I’m a sound sleeper, Victor. Is that a crime?”
“Of course it’s not a crime, but it’s going to be very difficult to get a jury to believe you slept through someone breaking into your home and shooting your husband four times.”
Sharmaine leaned back on the sofa and shook her head. “I know that. We’ve got to just hope and pray that Leon can tell them something. She suddenly sat forward. “Keisha, call the hospital and find out if he’s awake, talking or something,” she said.
A few moments later, Keisha hung up the phone after speaking with the duty nurse.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t find out much. His family has given strict orders not to give out information over the phone, because so many reporters have called. All they would tell me is he’s alive,” she said.
Sharmaine stood up and went over to her desk. She rummaged through the top drawer then pulled out an address book. She thumbed through the pages one by one, until she found what she was looking for. “Here’s Jack’s cell phone number. See if you can reach him at the hospital. He probably won’t talk to me, but maybe he’ll tell you something.” She handed the book to Keisha.
Keisha dialed the number and waited through four rings before Leon’s oldest brother, Jackson Cleveland, picked up the line.
“Hey, Jack, it’s Keisha Williams. I was just calling to see how Leon is doing.”
“Unless you’ve quit working for his wife, I really don’t think I want to talk to you, Keisha,” he answered.
“Come on, Jack. You know Sharmaine wouldn’t do this. She’s worried sick about him.”
Jackson hesitated before answering. His family, as well as Keisha and Sharmaine, had grown up together in the small rural town of Fort Valley, Georgia. They’d attended the same elementary and high schools, although Jackson was several years ahead of them. He honestly could not remember when he didn’t know either of them personally. It was hard for him to believe Sharmaine had shot his brother, but the police were confident she was guilty.
“Is she there with you now?” he finally asked.
“Yes, she’s right here.”
“I want to talk to her. Put her on the phone,” he demanded.
Sharmaine tentatively took the phone and put it up to her ear. “Hey, big brother, how’s Leon?” she said, using her nickname for Jackson.
“He’s in pretty bad shape, but the doctors are hopeful that he’ll pull through.”
“Oh, thank God. And thank you too. I really appreciate you talking to me. I’ve just been so worried. Mother Cleveland wouldn’t let me talk to the children
, and I just thought everyone was against me.”
“Don’t thank me. Tell me the truth. Did you shoot my brother?”
“Jack, I swear to you I did not shoot him. I love Leon. Something really strange is going on. I wish I could explain it, but I can’t figure it out.”
“I talked to him a few days before the shooting. He didn’t believe it was you in that video, but he never bothered to watch it. Sharmaine, I saw it. I gotta tell you, it looks like you.”
“I know it does, but it’s not me, Jack. Someone is trying to ruin my life. That’s the only possible explanation for any of this.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll keep you posted on his condition. I think that’s the least I can do for now. But if we find out you are responsible, there’s not a rock you can hide under. You won’t get away with it.”
“Thank you, Jack; I appreciate that,” Sharmaine said before realizing he’d hung up the phone already.
Chapter Four
Jeanna snuck out of the bedroom she and her sister shared at her grandparents’ home, and made her way to the telephone hanging on the wall in the kitchen. She picked up the old-fashioned receiver slowly and carefully, in order not to make a sound. It was almost three o’clock in the morning, and everyone else in the house was asleep.
On the other end, the phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. Dejected, she finally hung up and turned to walk down the hallway that led to her bedroom.
“What are you doing up at this hour?”
Jeanna was startled by her grandmother’s voice. “Grandma, did I wake you?”
“I’m old, honey. If you live long enough, you’ll find out that the older you get, the less you sleep. Now answer my question. What are you doing up?”
“Um, I was thirsty. I wanted a glass of water,” she answered.
“Funny, it looked to me like you were trying to make a phone call.”
Jeanna pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. “I was trying to call Mom. I miss her,” she confessed.
“I told you that I don’t want you talking to her.”
Losing It Page 4