by H. H. Fowler
“Maybe there was, but all that says to me is that Yasmine could have attacked my brother when he rejected her advances. But that’s still not telling me how you got a sample of Drake’s DNA to confirm a match.”
Mitchell moved his gaze slowly between the three people facing him, still refusing to give Kevin a direct answer. “What if I told you that there is also evidence of penetration and that a rape kit proves that a sample of Mr. Beckford’s semen was found in the victim’s underwear?”
“Then I would say that it was fabricated,” Kevin said.
“Tell that to the jury and see how far you will get,” Mitchell retorted. “It’s impossible to fabricate a rapist’s semen –”
“Unless it actually belongs to Drake and was planted without his knowledge,” Kevin finished. “And we both know how implausible that is, because Drake didn’t rape that woman, or have consensual sex with her, for that matter. So I suggest you stop trying to pin this crap on an innocent man before it lands you in hot water.”
Mitchell sneered. He didn’t take too kindly to Kevin’s threat. “The DNA found beneath the victim’s fingernails belongs to Mr. Beckford!” he spat. “You can rest assured that I will get a court order and Mr. Beckford will have no other choice than to submit to a swab test.”
“Well, you better get ticking,” Kevin said, “because if you can’t connect any substantial evidence to my brother, you can’t hold him in that cell for much longer.”
Mitchell turned his fiery gaze on Sasha, hoping to find an ally in her. “Your husband raped that woman and he will go to jail and do time. And I’m so sorry to say this, but I doubt that there’s any defense lawyer who would be able to get him out of this jam.” Mitchell glanced at his watch, suddenly putting on an air of urgency. He then opened his office door and practically threw them out. “Please excuse me, I have a rather important meeting to attend.”
He hastened down the hall without looking back.
“Please get me out of here.” Sasha mumbled after a long stretch of silence. The loutish way in which Mitchell had spoken about Drake put a sick feeling in her stomach. She never imagined in a million years that she would be caught in such a baneful situation. Maybe had Drake stayed in Devin’s Cay and tried to work things out, all of this would have been avoided.
Hunter rested a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “Don’t you think you should talk to Drake? By not giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, you’re doing the same thing he did to you six months ago…”
Sasha parked her gaze on Hunter, wishing she could understand her pain. “I don’t want to see Drake and I certainly don’t want to talk to him – not now.”
“C’mon on, honey,” Hunter pushed. “I’m sure Drake is dying to see you –”
“Don’t force me, Hunter. I have to be back at work anyway.”
“Honey –”
“If that’s what she wants,” Kevin snapped, “get her out of here.” He’d been patient as long as he could with Sasha’s crass behavior. Now, he was completely annoyed by it. “Drake doesn’t need any doubters around him anyway. I thought her Christian background would have taught her better.”
He turned swiftly on his heel and marched down the same hall Mitchell had not too long ago taken for escape. He was not going to let anyone interfere with his faith in seeing his brother vindicated, which included his confused sister-in-law.
Sasha looked to Hunter for comfort, tears stinging her eyes. “How could Kevin be so mean to me?” she questioned. “Just because I’m a Christian doesn’t mean that I don’t make mistakes or have my faults. I’m not perfect…I have hang ups, just like everyone else.”
“Oh, honey,” Hunter consoled. “No one says that you’re perfect.”
“Kevin sure thinks that I am. What makes him think he can judge me when he couldn’t walk a mile in my shoes? He may be Drake’s brother, but I am his wife! And a relationship between a wife and husband is much more intimate than that of two brothers, I don’t care how close they are.”
Hunter raised a brow at Sasha, surprised at Sasha’s outburst. But more so over the fact that she had fervidly referred to herself as Drake’s wife. During the past six months Sasha had been living with her, Hunter had never heard such a strong affirmation from her friend. That could only mean one thing: Sasha had not given up on Drake, despite what her outward behavior portrayed. However, Hunter was not comfortable with Kevin and Sasha being at odds with each other over Drake’s dilemma, something that neither of them could have stopped from happening. All they could do now was to unite in love and work toward getting Drake out of jail.
“Here, wipe your tears,” Hunter said softly, handing Sasha a piece of napkin. “I won’t pretend as if I know exactly what you’re dealing with on the inside. But what I do know is that you’re a very strong woman. Everything that you’ve been through over the last six months is enough to make anyone lose hope. I’ve watched you wrestle with bouts of discouragement, and the humiliation of Drake’s abandonment, while you faithfully went to work every morning to teach your tenth grade class. If I didn’t know you personally, I would have never known you were carrying around so much pain in your heart…”
Despite Sasha dabbing her tears with the napkin, they continued to flow without much effort. “How could you say that when I’m always crying at the drop of a hat – like I’m doing now?”
Hunter looked thoughtful for a second before she offered Sasha a warm smile. “Well, you only cry when you’re with me. But when you’re facing the world, those tears are carefully tucked away behind one of those beaming smiles you are known to give.”
“Wow…you know just what to say to make me feel better.”
“Well, I only speak truth.” Hunter pulled Sasha into a gentle hug. “And besides, that’s the reason why I’m called your BFF…my job is to make you feel better.”
Sasha straightened up from Hunter’s embrace and said, “Thank you, I really needed to hear that.” She stared down the hall as if she was contemplating her next move. Then all of a sudden, she felt a sharp tug pulling on the strings of her heart. Sasha sensed it was the Holy Ghost dealing with her conscience because it was the same feeling she got every time she thought about letting go of the pain and giving Drake a second chance to redeem himself. Slowly, she returned her gaze to Hunter. “Maybe, I will take your advice and talk to Drake.”
Hunter grinned in relief. “I knew you would come around.”
“Not so quick; I said maybe. I need some time to get myself together. I don’t want Drake to think that I want him back that badly.”
Hunter smiled at the unexpected humor. “The way I see it,” she said, “just the mere fact you took the initiative to visit Drake, he would appreciate you caring so much, especially given what he is presently facing right now. Go with the flow, honey and follow the leading of your heart...or how do you Christians put it? The leading of the Spirit? In any event, real love won’t be denied.”
“What do you know about real love?”
“Well,” Hunter placed an arm around Sasha as they walked out of the police station, “I know enough to know that it’s patient…kind…I especially know that real love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance, even like the one that Drake now finds himself in.”
Sasha smiled, visibly impressed. “Wow, it sounds like someone has been reading 1 Corinthians 13.”
Hunter shrugged noncommittally. “Well, what can I say? Even though I have not yet committed my life to the Big Man upstairs, I find His words to be quite awe-inspiring.”
Chapter Twelve
Later that evening at bible study, the pews at El Shaddai Ministries were packed, but Elder John sensed that the excellent turn out had nothing to do with his change of the service times, but had everything to do with the news of Drake Beckford’s rape accusation. The local news stations were breaking into regular programming with the headline, “Young Minister Accused of Raping a former Beauty Queen.” To
the public, Yasmine’s name had remained anonymous, but Elder John knew that people in the congregation would soon begin to connect the dots and figure out that the young woman was his daughter. How many former beauty queens had there been in Devin’s Cay? There were none before his Yasmine.
When Yasmine said that she would take care of Drake, Elder John hadn’t any idea what to expect or what would be the magnitude of her plan. He now knew exactly what she was capable of. Rape was a serious crime and it would be almost impossible for Drake to shake free of such an accusation. But Elder John wasn’t at all saddened by the sudden turn of events. In fact, he was ecstatic. And as the people continued to file in, he couldn’t help but smile, which pulled his thin lips to one side wickedly.
Finally… this was his moment to shine, to quiet the people’s concerns and let them know that he would be there to pick up the pieces. He’d warned them all along that Drake was not fit to lead the church. While everyone seemed to be singing Drake’s praises, Elder John saw the flaws in Drake’s character. Rev. Henderson was probably turning over in his grave, shocked to know that he’d been wrong about Drake, his beloved protégé.
However, Elder John knew that his act had to be convincing or else the people would see through it and castrate him before the altar. His daughter was the victim and if he had to, he would make sure that fact was wedged deeply into the minds of those who doubted his leadership. Schooling his expression into a somber look, he mounted the pulpit and leaned forward on his elbows.
“Grace and peace be unto you, my Father’s children,” he began gravely. “I’m sure you have heard by now the awful news of what is being circulated about Minister Drake Beckford. Be assured that God will strengthen us all through this difficult period. But let me be the first to express my grief over what has happened, especially because of the kind of young man we all believed Minister Beckford to be. However, I suspect many of you may be questioning if the victim being reported in the news is my daughter…” Elder John paused and gave a stellar performance of a man trying to hold it together. “Unfortunately, I’m sorry to confirm that the victim is indeed my daughter.”
There was a pronounced silence that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the building. It was one thing to speculate, but to hear such a ridiculous accusation coming from the proverbial horse’s mouth, was completely a different experience. The oldest mother of the church leaned to one side and began to wail, setting off a chain of emotional reactions. How could these rape accusations be true about Drake? It was impossible to even visualize such a violent act against Drake’s lamb-like personality. The dear boy never troubled a soul, the most kind-hearted person anyone could ever meet. Could they dare believe the words coming out of Elder John’s mouth? They never really trusted that Elder John had their best interest at heart anyway.
But all of the local news stations were saying the same thing: that Drake had been detained on suspicion of raping a young woman. If any of it turned out to be true, an even greater tragedy would befall them because there would be no one to carry on Rev. Henderson’s vision. This was not Drake’s lot – it couldn’t be and many of the prayer intercessors discerned that such an attack on Drake’s character could only come from the pit of hell. Soon, the entire building seemed to be weeping. Many even slid to their knees, lifting their voices in fervent prayer. It shook Elder John to his core. Never had such a united expression of grief been experienced in the history of the church.
“People of God,” he cried out, trying to elevate his voice above the wails. “Believe me, I am as heartbroken as you all are…my daughter and I are in shock over what has happened. Please, pray for my daughter as well. She is not doing well…” The wails began to get under Elder John’s skin and soon his tone began to fill with revulsion. “How could you people be so biased in your judgment? Go ahead. Pray if you must, but ask God to help you recognize the truth and allow justice to have her proper place. If Drake is truly guilty of this crime, you must accept it for what it is…”
The more Elder John spoke, the louder the wails became. The intention of the people was to drown out the old man. Something about his speech was not adding up and though they feared that their beloved Drake could be taken away from them for good, it didn’t prevent them from believing God for a miracle. Prayer, as Rev. Henderson had always taught, was a weapon of mass destruction against the forces of darkness. It was time to take this fight to the enemy’s camp.
****
Same Time
When Yasmine initially saw the news headline about an up and coming minister accused of raping a former beauty queen, she smiled and mentally patted herself on the back for a job well-done. She could now successfully mark her plan as complete. The only thing her father had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride straight to the top. But then the commentators began to delve into the rape allegations, using interview clips from people in the local community who knew of Drake’s upbringing. Yasmine began to pay attention, and gradually her grin faded into a wilted expression.
Everyone who spoke seemed shocked, but most of all saddened by such a tragic turn of events in the life of a young man who was well on his way to a bright future. Some expressed deep hurt, near tears as they described how kind and how loving Drake was. He hadn’t a violent bone in his body. How was it possible for him to fall to such disgrace? Several others didn’t believe the accusations, calling them silly and unfounded.
To make matters worse (depending on how one looked at it), Drake’s handsome face was encased in a box at the top right of the TV screen, and even with the scandalous headline beneath it, there was a sense of reverence in Drake’s photo that couldn’t be destroyed by the negative news being reported about him. By the time the commentators got through dissecting the story from every possible angle, Yasmine was strangely left with a feeling of emptiness.
For legal reasons she understood that her name had to remain anonymous, yet she wished there had been interviews about her and people singing her praises. She was a former beauty queen, for heaven’s sake! There should be people crying over what happened to her and not giving Drake all of this media attention. The longer Yasmine stared at Drake’s face, the angrier she became.
What was so special about him that people were more ready to believe he’d been set up than believe that the accusations could actually be true? Well, Yasmine thought, not everyone was smitten with the young, dashing preacher. Certainly, Officer Steve Mitchell bought her story, even if no one else did and Yasmine knew she could depend on the officer to make sure Drake was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
It was ironic that she would feel such resentment toward Drake when he hadn’t really done anything to her. But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? He’d resisted her sexual advances and more importantly, he’d been standing in the way of her father's plan to be solidified as the presiding bishop of El Shaddai Ministries. So for all intents and purposes, she should be happy with the way things turned out, especially because of the way that Drake brushed her off like she was an insignificant fly, but deep down she was still miserably discontented.
Actually, all her life she’d felt a sense of discontentment, no matter what she did to make herself happy. That was why when she was younger, she would enter into as many beauty pageants as she could, because it was the only place she found acceptance. Her father did his best to support her, to love her and to assure her that she was more important to him than anything in the world, but in time, even that wasn’t enough. She needed and wanted something more for her life than constantly trying to please her father.
What was really in this for her anyway? Helping her father to fulfill yet another one of his sadistic goals? Surely Drake would go to jail for a long time this time, and she would get over the guilt, and soon the story would fade from the public eye and people would move on to the next hot topic. That meant that she too would be forgotten. If Drake had had sex with her, she could have at least filled up the time by feasting on the racy images of finally se
ducing one of the Beckford brothers. But she got nothing out of the deal and now she was feeling like the one who’d gotten the short end of the stick.
Maybe she and Kevin would have been married by now and would’ve had a house filled with kids, if Kevin’s crazy mother hadn’t interfered with their relationship all those years ago. Yasmine always thought about that and it made her angry. Because she felt as if she’d been robbed of one of the most priceless treasures in life, which was the opportunity to experience real love. Not the sick, twisted version she now had with Ronnie.
Chapter Thirteen
Even though the management at the Smithson Hotel had offered Kevin two free nights in exchange for a good review, he hadn’t accepted it. The mere fact the police had ransacked the room where he and Drake had been staying and now that the rape accusations had gone viral, the hotel was attracting too much attention. Kevin decided he would be better off spending his last evening in Devin’s Cay with his mother. He had to be back in Tampa in the morning for a very important meeting with one of his private clients. He’d tried to get out of it but Kevin knew it would be a bad move to disappoint this particular client. He would simply catch a flight back to Devin’s Cay the following day.
He tossed his luggage in the trunk of the rental car, and as he walked toward the driver side, his cell phone clamored to life with a popular hip-hop tune. However, Kevin wished he’d checked the caller ID before he answered. At least it would have given him a few seconds to prepare for his mother’s wrath.
“What in the hell is this mess I heard about Drake on the news?” she barked. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
Kevin plunged into the driver’s seat and spun the engine to a hard right. “Ma, I need to spend the night in my old room. Is that okay with you?”
“Where are you?” Suanne spat.
“Leaving the Smithson Hotel…”
“What the hell are you still doing in Devin’s Cay? Is Drake with you?”