Tattered Tiara (The Bancrofts: Book 2)

by Barrett, Brenda

  "I had doubts about the two of us when April stopped by."

  Natasha's eyes flew open.

  He put a finger on her lips. "I think I am going through a mini-denial because I am thinking that what we have is real. Because the last real relationship I had was with April. I got the lines blurred a little. I felt nostalgic. I haven't loved anyone since April."

  Natasha cleared her throat. "And now?"

  "Now," Taj said, taking her hand and placing it on his heart. "Now I am saying I love you Natasha. I read a quote today, it said 'one's first love is always perfect until one meets one's second love.'"

  Natasha licked her lips. "I love you too. Is it supposed to be so sudden, so overwhelming, this feeling? I don't think I have ever loved anybody before, not even the guy I used to live with. "

  Taj placed his forehead on hers. "Don't fight it. It's the best feeling in the world. I love you back. I am vulnerable to you as you are to me. I want us to last."

  ***

  Micah woke up at 5:15 am. The fog was heavy outside. He sat on his verandah in the cold air, shirtless, with a cup of herbal tea cupped in his palms. He had to call Deidra today and have her come into his office.

  His lawyer had confirmed that he left a video recording device in a package at his office that was small enough to be unobtrusive and could record Deidra, in living colors, carrying on with her antics and hopefully admitting that she wasn't raped.

  He hoped that she would be in fine form today, throwing her lustful self at him, because he had nightmares and heart palpitations just thinking about jail.

  He would call her at nine. Tuesdays in the second week of October weren't that busy at the business center. He got up from his porch and stretched. Then he headed inside to get ready. He felt like putting on a dress shirt today. He only had one in his entire closet. He needed to look professional for this meeting.

  Micah let himself into his office. His desk was crowded with yellow stickers containing messages to which he needed to attend. He glanced at some of them and then at the clock. He had two hours to call Deidra and hoped not to get too distracted so that he would forget.

  He decided to call her at 8:30. He dialed her number and waited patiently on the line while it rang.

  "Hello," Deidra cautiously answered the phone.

  "Deidra," Micah said injecting some joy in his tones. He had to act now for dear life. "I was wondering. Can I see you this morning?"

  "Why?" Deidra was on her way to the school, the phone was propped up at one side of her ear as she opened the car door.

  "Because I want to apologize," Micah said, his deep husky voice washing over her, almost making her tremble.

  "O...okay," Deidra grinned getting into her car. "When do you want to see me?"

  "How about now?" Micah said glancing at the angle of the camera. He had perched it on his file cabinet, directly across the desk.

  "Oh sure," Deidra said happily. "You know, I thought you would be mad with me."

  "Oh shush," Micah said quickly. "I can't be mad at you for long. Just come over to my office. Let's talk."

  He hung up the phone and started tapping his fingers on the desk. After this performance, he should be receiving a Daytime Emmy Award.

  He rolled up the cuffs of his black dress shirt and waited impatiently for Deidra to arrive. He checked three times to see that the camera was on and rolling—it had twelve hours of recording time on it.

  He almost jumped when a subdued looking Deidra—in her customary tight short outfit—came into his office.

  She smiled at him shyly. "Hi Micah."

  "Hi," Micah cleared his throat, conscious that the camera was there and uncomfortable because Deidra's hard shell looked like it was cracking. She looked soft and different, almost normal. She didn't even seem as if she had the wealth of make-up that she normally wore and absolutely didn't need. She looked young and vulnerable. She had none of the overly confident, self-serving expression that she usually had.

  "I am the one that should apologize to you Micah." Deidra stood up, her expression uncertain. "You are not going to believe this but yesterday I told the police that you raped me."

  "What?" Micah asked feigning alarm. "Why did you do that?"

  "I was angry when you refused to kiss me," Deidra said, shaking her head. "And when you left the house I took off my panties and threw it under your bed. I intended to set you up, but I swear I changed my mind after," Deidra said contritely, "but I snapped in the morning and just like that I blurted out some lies. Charlene called the police and I told more lies and this whole thing has gotten away from me. I think the police will soon contact you and lock you up."

  Micah almost jumped for joy. He was home free. He almost glanced over at the video camera to ensure that it was still recording but stopped himself.

  "Deidra," he said firmly, "you have to get counseling. Taj reliably informed me that the grand opening of the psych center will take place at the end of the week. Sign up for a psychiatrist. This kind of extreme emotion and throwing yourself at me can't be healthy."

  Tears sprang to Deidra's eyes. "It's just that when I look at you I really really like you and you don't like me back. I get so angry. I want to force you to like me. I want to be tied to you somehow. It's like a pain in the region of my heart."

  Micah was about to pat her on the hand but he backed off. What did he know about this kind of situation?

  Nothing.

  He looked at Deidra and shook his head.

  "I am sorry Deidra. I think you have some growing up to do before we can have a healthy relationship. People are not toys. You can't wind them up or threaten them and expect them to jump at your bidding. You have to respect personal boundaries and be kind to others."

  Deidra nodded.

  She grabbed her bag and opened the door. "I am sorry again Micah. I really am."

  Micah nodded and watched as she exited the room—her perfume lingering, almost making him feel sorry for her. He shook off the feeling and said a silent prayer of thanks to God. He wasn't going to jail.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bancroft solemnly regarded the seven people he had asked to the meeting. They were in the small boardroom across from his office. Everybody had arrived promptly and was looking at him with various levels of anticipation.

  "Lady and gentlemen," he looked over at them. "Let's not mince words about this whole business. It does not reflect well on this school or the community. I asked you all here today because we want to nip this whole mess in the bud before it gets worse."

  "Do you have any updates for us detective?" He looked at Natasha enquiringly.

  "Well, we have narrowed down an area where we suspect that the rapist might be found and we are working in that area…semi undercover. When we isolate who he might be then I'll use myself as bait."

  "Isn't that dangerous?" Chief campus security Green asked.

  "I have a black belt in both Kick Boxing and Aikido." Natasha assured him. " I am quite capable of handling myself. Besides, Detective Beaker will be around."

  "I might not need to do anything much." Tony chuckled. "I have seen her box and kick a 250 lb bag so expertly that it had me scared."

  "What I want to know," D.M. Carter chairman of the board of trustees for the university and Bancroft’s main enemy said," is what you have been doing to secure the interests of this school?"

  Bancroft bit the fiery retort that was on the tip of his tongue. "We have contained the publicity of these events to only the Mount Faith area. We have run delicately worded school announcements admonishing students to be safe, walk in groups, keep aware of their environment. Jiselle Newman is really the only broadcasted case so to speak, and by and large we have kept her name out of the public sphere."

  D.M. Carter nodded and turned his eyes on Taj. "What do you think, Dr. Jackson, about these rapes?"

  Taj cleared his throat. He was so fascinated with the dynamics between D.M. Carter and Bancroft that D.M.'s question caught him off-guard
.

  "I really have nothing to work with to get an accurate profile of this rapist. Maybe I should have a meeting with the detectives. All I can say for now is that the psych center will be opened and fully operational by the end of this week. We have a staff of 22. We will standby to help."

  D.M. nodded. "Very good Dr. Jackson. Is that all Bancroft? I have a plane to catch."

  Chief Green cleared his throat, "I have beefed up security around the darker areas on campus, and we have been monitoring the close circuit cameras, especially at night."

  Bancroft nodded. "That's all. Thank you everyone for coming."

  He sat at the table brooding long after everyone had left. He had several meetings to go to and several things to do but he had a niggling worry at the back of his mind. It centered on his final appointment by the board of trustees. He was also worried about Micah and the rape charge.

  He was also feeling empty and lonely—quite unlike the days when he used to get up early in the morning and do some Bible study and prayer. Back then he would find these problems a breeze to handle because he had God on his side, but now he had no time for that sort of communicating and connecting with God. The job was squeezing that out, but he knew he had to make the time, or he would be overwhelmed.

  In his quest for power, everything around him was slowly going downhill, his family especially. On top of that, he didn't have a genuine friend he could count on. He was single handedly losing everything—the real things that mattered.

  He sighed a heartfelt vulnerable sigh that filled the room and then died away.

  When he was about to get up, the door to the boardroom opened abruptly and framed in the doorway was an angry looking Senator Edward Durkheim.

  "Your secretary said I could find you here."

  Bancroft sat back down abruptly.

  "So," the Senator walked in to the room fully. He was a muscular man—in his early fifties—who looked at least a decade younger. He had almond shaped eyes, a pug nose and a wide mouth. His right eyelid was twitching, which it usually did when he was bottling up anger and forced to be civilized.

  "Where is Micah?" he asked his voice biting. "I thought I would find him in lockup when I got here, only to hear that there has been several rapes on campus and he is still roaming free. Is that how you are running this school now… protecting your son while he runs around and assaults women?"

  Bancroft cleared his throat. "Have you ever heard about innocent until proven guilty?"

  "My daughter said she was raped," The senator said stiffly. "She was crazy about your son, for whatever reason I don't know, but if she said she was raped…she was."

  Bancroft held up his hand. "Micah is an adult I am not responsible for his actions, Edward. Stop treating me as if I raped your daughter."

  Edward snorted. "Right now, I am so mad I could blow. Where is Micah?"

  Bancroft took up the phone. "I will call him to get over here. Please don't hurt him."

  When Micah came on the line he sounded very pleased and Bancroft was taken aback. "Senator Durkheim is in the boardroom across from my office. He wants to see you."

  "Fine," Micah said. "Tell him I'll be there in five minutes."

  Bancroft hung up the phone. "He will be here in five minutes."

  The senator frowned and rested back in his chair.

  When Micah got the call from his father he was so elated he could sing. The boardroom had a projector that he could use to hook up the camera. He reached the presidents building in three minutes and ran to the boardroom panting.

  "Senator," he said entering the room, "before you kill me, watch this." He plugged in the video and turned on the projector, his office came on screen.

  It started just when Deidra entered. When she made her confession—the senator who had not said anything yet—looked troubled, like he had swallowed something particular poisonous and was on the verge of choking.

  When the video ended, he looked at Micah and shook his head. "I must apologize."

  Micah shrugged. "As I said in the video, Deidra needs help and I would be very grateful if these charges are dropped."

  The Senator got up. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen. I must now have a talk with my daughter and put a stop to this injustice against you Micah."

  Micah nodded and watched as the Senator walked stiffly to the door.

  Bancroft looked at Micah in relief.

  "That was a good idea! I never thought about that."

  Micah sat down, a heady sense of relief washing over him. "The lawyer came up with the idea yesterday. I must call him and tell him that it worked. I am sure Deidra has to withdraw the charge now that her father has seen it. Did you see how mad he got when he was watching it?"

  Bancroft nodded. "I am very relieved for you Micah."

  "And relieved about your job prospects, I bet."

  Bancroft half smiled. "This job that I want so badly may be the only thing I have left. I messed up with my children… my wife. I was just assessing my life and realize that while I have been pursuing my dreams, I neglected quite a bit."

  Micah was looking at his father in shock. "I can't believe that you are admitting that to me."

  Bancroft frowned. "Why not?"

  "We don't have heart to heart talks," Micah said slowly, still befuddled that his father was talking to him like he was an adult with a brain, "we have shouting matches."

  "That's also my fault." Bancroft sighed. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting, so this heart to heart will be terminated. Maybe another time?"

  Micah shook his head. "That would be nice…weird...but nice."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Senator Durkheim drove off campus and headed up to his house at Bueno Vista. He entered the house in a huff and headed to the kitchen.

  Charlene was in there. She had on her lab glasses and was pouring liquids into beakers. She looked up when she saw him and smiled. "Hello Stepdaddy. I didn't hear you come in."

  Edward went over to her and kissed her on the cheek.

  "Char, I left a very important meeting in Barbados to come here. I wanted to ensure that justice was served with Micah Bancroft."

  "And?" Charlene asked pushing up her glasses and putting down the pipette.

  "He showed me a video where Deidra confessed that she lied about the rape because she wanted to punish him. What kind of evil have I raised?"

  He shuddered. "Do you know that a man's reputation is basically all he's got in this world that's worth anything? If I had not seen that video, I would have destroyed Micah. If a woman had done that to me..." He shook his head. "I am trying to get Deidra on the phone and can't."

  "She's in class," Charlene said, pulling off her gloves and coming to sit across from him.

  "I have raised a spoilt brat, haven't I?" He hung his head. "But what can I do now? She's almost twenty."

  Charlene's eyes lit up. "You really want to know?"

  Edward nodded, "Of course. Obviously, it's up to me to do something about Deidra. Her mother doesn't really care about her."

  Charlene rubbed her hands gleefully. "First, ditch all the credit cards you give her."

  Edward frowned. "But what will she do?"

  "Get a job, like everybody else!" Charlene said purposefully.

  "Next, have her get some help to sort out her issues. She's mixed up."

  "Micah did mention that in his video," Edward said contemplatively, "but is it really psychiatric help she needs or a lesson in growing up? Too many rich kids go for psychiatric help, do you see any difference in behavior?"

  "That's true, but she also needs some attention," Charlene said. "Call her often and check up on her, but don't give her any money…and stop opening doors for her. Let her work to open some of them herself."

  Edward frowned. "But she is entering the Miss Jamaica competition next year February. I have to do something to help her."

  "Let her do it herself," Charlene said frankly. "Deidra has a sense of entitlement that is sickening, and it's all your fault!"


  Edward slumped his shoulders. "I got married several times to provide a mother for her. I'm not cut out to raise a girl."

  Charlene chuckled. "You were not a bad parent the two or so years you were in my life."

  "That's because you were already grown and passed the worse and more mature than your years. You know you are my favorite, Char."

  Charlene grinned. "I know. I also know that you say that to everybody."

  "How's James doing?" Edward asked. "Last time I spoke to him he was complaining about Deidra."

  "Deidra hates him," Charlene said, "but he's not doing so badly in his second year. He wasted a lot of time in his first. He got a job at the media center recently…designing animations for Mount Faith TV."

  "Oh," Edward nodded. "That's good for him. Last time I spoke to his mother, she said he was a spoilt brat. That's why she sent him to a Christian university to sort out his issues."

  Charlene snorted. "I think issues should be sorted out before people are sent to university."

  When Deidra got home and saw her father's car, she felt apprehensive. All day she had been in class and her conscience had been bothering her about lying to the police yesterday and signing that statement saying that Micah had raped her. However, today when she apologized to Micah, she had felt even more burdened. Now her father was here and probably wanted to kill Micah.

  She didn't feel so well. She felt terrible about what she had done and she knew she had to tell the truth to exonerate Micah. What had gotten over her? She was convinced that she needed to do some anger management courses. To make matters worse, she had flirted shamelessly with that police officer. She couldn't even remember his name. She had just wanted to feel liked again. To be noticed.

  She walked into the house depressed and feeling low. She heard her father's rumbling voice and Charlene's laughter. Those two always got on well. For once, Deidra wished were Charlene. That she had her poise and her confidence and even her looks.