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Authors: Michelle Lindo-Rice

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BOOK: The Fall of the Prodigal
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Chapter Eighteen
“Don't these people have jobs?” Michael asked.
Verona rolled her eyes. “I didn't invite you to come with me to Bible Study.”
“I wasn't aware I needed a special invite to come into God's house. Doesn't He welcome everyone?”
“Apparently, fleas as well,” she bit back.
Sorry, Lord, but he's trifling as ever.
Michael creased his forehead. “What's wrong? We were talking just fine earlier at the board meeting. What could I have done to make you . . .” He stopped, and nodded with a slight grin. “Wait a minute. I know what this is about. It's about the kiss. I meant to shut down your foolish idea of quitting and it worked. It was just a kiss. Lighten up.”
Michael's knowing chuckle made her grit her teeth. Even if it killed her, Verona would not respond. To him it was a mere kiss. To her it was everything. It took everything in her power not to give Michael's cheek a five-fingered salute at his blasé attitude.
Verona stormed down the aisle until she was at the third pew from the front.
Ugh.
He followed her. Gina had told her this small chapel, used for the midweek services, could accommodate about a hundred people. There were about thirty people in attendance.
“You can't ignore me, you know.” Michael slid so close to her she felt every breath he took.
Verona's sanity was now in question. “I can ignore you, just as you ignored my resignation. How did you even know I was here?”
“I know you're not serious about leaving. That's why I ripped up that ridiculous letter,” he said. “You really need to find another way to handle your frustrations. To answer your second question, you told me about Gina inviting you.”
Oh, yes. She remembered bragging about it on their drive home from the foundation ball. She was surprised he had remembered as Michael had been frazzled after his run-in with Bill Laurelton.
Verona looked at Michael from underneath her lashes. “I meant it, Michael Ward. Find yourself another guinea pig, because I'm done.”
His eyes raked her from head to toe, taking in her black Donna Karan jersey wraparound dress with matching Manolo Blahniks. With a salacious grin, Michael said, “You're no guinea pig. You're a tigress and one in need of taming.”
Now, he chooses to flirt with me!
Before Verona could respond, Gina entered the room. Dressed in a casual beige suit, Gina sauntered up to the podium. Verona elbowed Michael to move over, but the ignoramus refused to put distance between them. She scuttled her body away, but he stubbornly closed the gap each time.
With a grunt, she caved and remained where she was because Michael would just follow her.
Gina called the meeting to order. “Bishop Combs is unable to make it tonight. I'll be standing in for him. Please open your Bibles to James chapter one.”
Verona grabbed one of the Bibles from the pew and located the passage. She recited the books in her head, until she located James. She saw Michael fiddling with his pages and sighed. Handing him her Bible, Verona took his and proceeded to locate the passage.
“Show off,” he murmured.
Verona rolled her eyes, but said nothing.
“Verse 22 says we must be doers of the Word, and not just hearers. What does this mean?” Gina asked.
Verona knew the answer. Gina had a warm smile on her face as she scanned the crowd. Verona noted how Gina's smile froze once she noticed Michael in the midst. She knew Gina wasn't pleased to see him there.
After a moment, a couple of hands went up. Gina called on someone.
“It means we've got to follow God's Word if we want to get to heaven,” the young lady said.
“That's true, Sister Althea, but there's more.”
Verona felt a poke in her arm. “I know you know,” Michael said. She gave him an intense glare daring him to say something. He saw her face and decided not to push her button.
That's what I thought.
Verona jutted her chin in the air.
Michael knows tonight is not the night to mess with me.
Apparently Gina did not.
“We have a first-time visitor with us. Everyone, please say a hearty welcome to Verona Stachs. Verona, do you have any idea what the verse means?”
It took a moment for Verona to realize Gina had called her out in front of everyone. She wasn't sure if Gina had put her on blast with good intentions. Awkwardly, she stood to her feet. “I, ah . . .” She froze.
Michael chucked. She clenched her fists.
A sea of faces waited for her to say something. Suddenly, she was transported to another time in her life.
No, I'm not going back there.
She was here, right now. With a firm voice, Verona explained, “To be a hearer of the Word means you know the Word and what it means but it hasn't impacted your life. On the other hand, to be a doer means you know the Word and you follow up by living the Word, by applying it in your everyday life.”
Seeing Gina's nod of approval, Verona took her seat. Gina went on with the study.
“So which one are you?” Michael whispered. “A hearer? Or a doer?”
His question hit her core. Verona knew it was the Holy Spirit speaking through him to ask her the poignant question. She closed her eyes and turned away from Michael. She wasn't ready to go there with God just yet.
As soon as the service concluded, Verona gave Michael explicit orders to wait for her while she sought Gina out. She waited for the crowd to disperse so she could speak to Gina in private.
“Sorry to put you on the spot,” Gina said as soon as they were alone.
“It's okay,” she replied. “Well, it wasn't really okay, but I recovered.”
Gina cocked her head. “I was being led by God to ask you to explain that verse. I never call out people like that. For some reason, God is pinpointing you.”
Verona squirmed. Gina told the truth. “I'm not ready,” she shakily admitted. “I've got some things I need to work out with God.” Things like why He made her parents dirt poor. Why He made her have to give up her son. Why He had closed her womb.
“Don't keep Him waiting too long,” Gina warned in a gentle tone. “When God wants you, there is no escaping Him. Where can you run?”
A verse came back to her. “If I make my bed in hell, He's there.”
Gina arched an eyebrow at her. “Yes, you said it right.” She tilted her head Michael's way. “I see you brought your shadow.”
What a way to refer to her ex
-
husband.
Verona wondered if Gina had ever been in love with Michael. Gina sounded like she was talking about a stranger and not someone she had pledged her life to before. Verona pursed her lips. It was time for Lady Ward to live what she preached. “Michael, come on over.”
On stilted steps, he approached. “Hello, Gina. You were amazing tonight.”
“I owe it to God,” Gina deflected before asking him, “Why are you here?”
Verona admired her bluntness.
“I need you to stand up for me at the hearing,” Michael returned with equal bluntness.
“Forget it.” Gina stomped off without even a good-bye.
Verona watched her rapid departure. She faced Michael to offer some token word of sympathy. She saw him checking out his ex-wife and her stomach knotted from envy. “You'd better put out that spark before Keith finds out. I don't think he'd be as willing to help you if he sees you're still pining for his wife.”
Michael's eyes widened. “Say what? Whatever I felt for Gina is long gone. I'm not checking her out. I'm contemplating. I know her. She'll testify. That's the person she is deep down. Her good nature will win no matter what she says.”
Verona's stomach churned and it wasn't from indigestion. It was jealousy at Michael's faith in his ex-wife. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What she wouldn't give to hear him talking about her like that.
“By the way, I took a cab so I could ride back with you into the city,” Michael said.
Verona slanted him a glance. “You took it for granted I'd . . .” She stopped. What was the point in arguing? She was going to end up taking him anyways. She motioned for him to come on.
She dropped Michael off before driving the short distance to her home. The doorman held opened the door and Verona strolled inside. She could not wait to soak her feet. Lavender Epsom salts.
Upon entering her penthouse, Verona threw off her shoes. On stocking clad feet, she started a bath, replete with candles and her bath pillow. Verona kicked herself for not coming clean about Lauren. She knew Keith said to give him time to speak to Lauren, but between Michael and God, she knew she was short on that.
The verse from James came back to her.
What a way to spend a Wednesday night.
Chapter Nineteen
What a way to spend a Wednesday night, or, should she say, Thursday morning!
“It's been too long, Mousie!”
“Give us more! Mousie! Mousie!”
With a knowing smile at the men's pleas, Mousie pranced on the stage. She rocked her lower body. Her tail swished across the stage. The roars spurred her on.
With exaggerated movements, she strutted across the stage and executed a perfect split. Sweat poured down her body. Bills were tossed all over the stage. Finn's minions came and gathered all the cash.
She blew them a Marilyn Monroe–style kiss. As Mousie had directed, the stage effects kicked into gear. Smoke and huge fans blew her dress high above her legs.
More money!
As the lights dimmed, she clenched her fists and stormed off the stage. “I'm tired of this! Why are they cheering? I'm doing everything but selling my goods up there, and their tongues hang out with sick fascination!”
Finn helped her out of her costume without saying a word. Mousie knew he had long ago tuned her out. Taking deep breaths, she asked, “Did the cheese costume come in yet?”
“Yes, as you ordered, with studs galore.”
Mousie slipped into a purple silk robe and turned to face him. “I know you think it's stupid, but they're going to love it. Mark my words.”
“No doubt.”
Mousie noted Finn's significant lack of enthusiasm. She knew she had made him close to $4,000. He had not even given her a high five or anything. “What's with you?” she asked.
Finn shrugged his massive shoulders. “I'm getting tired of your, for want of a better word, split personality. It's like you're bipolar or something. I don't force you to go onstage. You come here when the mood strikes, of your own free will, and you get on stage and do your thing. But once you're done, you're screaming and complaining at the catcalls.” He shook his head. “I don't get it at all.”
Mousie was at a loss for words. She shivered and looked around the dingy room. Chipped paint and sagging posters depicting women in suggestive poses lined the walls. In a childlike voice, she acknowledged, “You're right. I don't know what I'm doing here. Maybe I won't come back after tonight.”
Finn held up his hands and stammered, “Whoa. Easy now. Don't get too hasty. I wasn't saying all that. You asked me a question and I was giving you an answer. That's all. I don't care about your rants, as long as you make me money. Please come back. You're my biggest draw.”
Tears streamed down Mousie's face. “I've got to get out of here.”
“I won't argue with you. There's no point.” Finn walked up to her and touched her face with his large hands. “I wish you'd show me the real you. You undress and show your body, but you keep the real you on lockdown. You're untouchable. Mousie—I don't even know your real name—Mousie, let me in. I care about you.” He placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.
Startled, Mousie jumped back. “We agreed! We agreed!” she screamed. “We agreed! No touching! No touching!”
“Mousie, cool down. I didn't touch you to harm you. You've got to relax. Breathe,” Finn said.
It took some doing until Finn's words finally registered. Mousie nodded.
He turned toward the door, but swung back around to face her. “Why won't you let anyone close to you?”
“Because,” Mousie answered, “no one touches me. I'll get hurt.” The child within spoke those words. She had to protect herself. She could tell Finn thought she was cuckoo, but these were her terms for survival.
“Someone must have done a number on you. I've never met a woman so tightly wound. One of these days, you're going to bust and fall apart.” He went to the door and opened it. “We all need someone, Mousie. Even you.”
Once Finn had departed, Mousie stood frozen. “Someone did do a number on me, and he paid. You will too, if you come near me again.” Her ominous words echoed off the walls. She grabbed her street clothes and got dressed. It was time to say good-bye to this place.
Finn ruined it for her when he talked about feelings. Mousie didn't feel anything for men, for no one. Her cell phone rang. Seeing the number, she scurried out the door. This was one person she would not dare keep waiting.
Chapter Twenty
Different doctor. Same verdict.
Verona left the Continuum Reproductive Center with her head hung low. Located on Fifty-ninth Street, the center boasted some of the country's leading fertility experts.
Her shop was closed. Unexplained infertility. What a cruel thing! The specialist had suggested all kinds of invasive procedures, but Verona closed her mind to it. Nope. She was not wasting her time. Not when she knew the truth. God had turned His back on her.
Verona tore up the paper with her results and tossed it in the nearest garbage can. Heedless of the nippy air, she walked the short distance to the parking garage with her coat in her hand. She paid and tipped the attendants for the hour.
Verona held the tears until she was inside her vehicle. Then she dropped her head onto the steering wheel and released them. Her shoulders shook. She could barely catch her breath.
“God, why?” she cried. “Why are you punishing me?” This was her second meltdown in her car and she hated it. It would be the last time.
Verona shook her head. She had the beauty, the body, and the brains. She had done it all right. She exercised and, for the most part, watched what she ate.
What did I do to deserve this? How can this be happening to me?
Her cell phone jingled a reminder. Verona swiped away her tears. She was expected at Keith and Gina's in less than hour. Her eyes were reddened from crying. “Get it together, girl,” she told her reflection.
Verona lowered the visor to look into the mirror. She pulled her compact out of her purse. She wiped away the dried mascara. Using bottled water, she washed her face. Then she fixed her face. If only it were so easy to repair the pain in her heart.
She experienced a moment of déjà vu.
“No more crying in your car, Verona,” she scolded. She put her car in gear. With each mile, she added to her armor. She wouldn't let her internal pain distract her from the job she had to do. When all else failed, she had her career. Her job was her constant. She could rely on her skills. She knew better than to put her faith in God.
 
 
“It popped out,” Keith explained. The couple had taken a stroll around the perimeter of the property when Keith broke the news. He bundled his jacket around him.
“It didn't just pop out. You forget I know you.” Gina's teeth chattered. “Let's get inside.” She picked up the pace. Keith had no problem keeping in step with her much smaller stride.
She continued, “You knew what you were doing when you told Verona about Lauren. You're hoping she'll tell Michael so you'll still be keeping your promise.”
Gina opened the front door and Keith followed her inside. They went into his office to finish their conversation.
Keith shrugged.
She knows me too well. Might as well come clean.
“Technically, I promised Lauren not to tell Michael, which I didn't. I told you. I told Verona.”
Gina shook her head. “You were wrong. You shouldn't have brought Lauren into this. She's a reporter. She's seen the headlines. If she wanted to help, she'd have come out of hiding and she'd be here. Bottom line, it wasn't your secret to tell.”
Keith took her small shoulders in his hands. “Aren't you tired of secrets, Gina? Because I am. Don't you realize how keeping our love hidden destroyed other people's lives? Keeping secrets ruined my relationship with Michael.” He held his head and confessed, “It's driving me nuts, the guilt of knowing where Lauren is and not telling Michael. You didn't see what I saw. Michael is falling for Verona because a part of him is beginning to let Lauren go.”
“It's not your business, Keith,” Gina countered. “You made a promise and there are innocent children to consider.”
Keith groaned. “I am considering the children.” He gave Gina a tortured look. She turned away from him when she saw his face.
He touched her arm and slid his hand under her chin. “Gina, I love you so much.” His voice broke. “It pained me when I lost those years with Epiphany, years I can never get back. It did something to me as her father. I can't sit back and let Michael continue to face that agony.”
Tears pooled her eyes. Gina clutched her fist to her chest. “And, what about my agony? My pain? Keith, do you know what it was like living with someone who didn't love me and who couldn't stand to look Epiphany in the eyes?”
Pain united them. Keith bit out, “I know what you feel. We're connected. I feel every ounce of your pain.” He adjusted himself and pulled Gina to stand in front of him. He kissed her to dim the memories of pain, until passion arose. Once he felt her lips go supple, he released her. “God has forgiven us, Gina. We've got to let the past hurt go and lay it at His feet once and for all. We've got to step forward now. We can't stay here stuck between the past and the present.”
She closed her eyes, pulling away from him. “Don't,” Keith urged. “Michael's not here by accident. He's here by divine ordinance. We both are God's hands and His voice. God is depending on us to be examples. We can't fail Him.”
Gina gave an imperceptible nod and Keith loosened his hold. Her arms circled his waist. “It's hard, honey. So hard to do,” she said.
“I know, sweetheart. This road isn't easy,” he soothed. “But the final destination makes it all worth it.”
“I told her to give me time to speak to Lauren but tomorrow's the hearing. I have a feeling once the charges are brought, Verona's going to 'fess up.”
Her little head nodded against him. “I'm not ready, Keith. However, I promise to pray about it and I'll . . . I'll speak on Michael's behalf if I absolutely have to. I hope I won't, though.”
It was the first time Gina had mentioned Michael's name without rancor.
Thank you, Lord. Small steps.
“I won't call you unless Michael is convicted,” Keith said. That was the closest he could promise. There was something about the case that bothered him. Something crucial he'd overlooked. Since he knew better than to question the feeling, Keith had invited Verona over to go through all the statements again.
“What time's Verona coming to work on the case?” Gina asked.
“You read my mind.” Keith chuckled. “She'll be here in an hour. I invited her for dinner. Josie is setting an extra spot at the dinner table. Everything's handled.”
Ever the dutiful housewife, Gina removed herself from his arms. “Still, I'd better go check for myself how dinner is coming along.”
Within ten minutes of Gina leaving the room, Verona showed up.
Verona was a wonderful dinner guest. She particularly enjoyed Trey's and Epiphany's presence. After dinner, they had family prayer time. Before they prayed, they sang a verse of “Amazing Grace.” Verona joined in. Her strong singing voice was a pleasant surprise. That and the fact she knew the words to the song. Normally, Keith would question her spiritual background, but they had Michael's case. He filed that away for a future conversation.
Once Gina went to settle the children into bed, Keith and Verona went to his office. For a half hour they poured through the documents in silence until Keith made an observation.
“Why didn't they take a sample?”
Verona did not follow his thought pattern. She gestured for him to explain.
“Standard procedure is for a rape sample to be taken, but it seems as if Mindy refused one. So, how could Michael be charged with rape? This is a big mess-up that might work in Michael's favor. We can make a motion to reduce to a lesser charge.”
Verona took the pages and went through the files again. “I don't know how I could've missed this. I guess it's because I'm masquerading as a criminal attorney.” She gave him a cheeky grin before returning to the case. “Bill's defense team must know it too. They've been giving us the runaround for weeks. They delivered the files a mere week ago. This explains why Bill doesn't want us near his daughter.”
Keith nodded his assent. “However, her state of mind, whether she's been with a man before, the blood, all these things could factor into why a rape kit wasn't administered. Her words were compelling evidence and Michael's lack of words incriminated him.” He flipped through the pictures several times.
Something was not right.
Keith leaned closer to investigate but he could not tell. “We've got to scan these and blow them up. I need to get a better look at them.”
Verona quickly complied. Together they huddled over the computer screen. “It's as I thought. Some of her wounds look self-inflicted,” Keith said.
“She could've done that while fighting her attacker,” Verona countered.
“She could've done them to herself,” Keith echoed. He studied the pictures at length.
“If she did, she'd have to be a sick woman.”
“You'd be surprised at what I've seen.” Keith scrunched his nose. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight. “We have to get an expert to look at this. I'll contact Dr. Daniel Northman. He's credible and I've used him on countless cases in the past. My tired eyes can't see anymore.”
“Aren't you forgetting there was a condom with semen found on the scene?”
He could see how much it cost Verona to bring that matter up. “No, I haven't forgotten. Though Michael protested, we need him to give a specimen. March may seem months away, but we've got to be prepared.”
“He's refused. Michael's arrogant enough to believe he won't be indicted tomorrow. He doesn't think he needs to belittle himself with that indignity. His words, not mine. I think he's hoping for a miraculous confession before then.”
Keith didn't reply because he knew Michael's real reason for noncompliance. Michael didn't produce a lot of semen and was deemed infertile. That compelling revelation led Michael to discover the truth about Trey not being his son. Keith and Gina had made sure to test Epiphany. She was 100 percent Keith's. All the more reason why Keith needed Michael to know his children—his own miracles from God. Chances were Michael would never have any more.
But, first things first. Keith needed Dr. Northman's expert eye to look over these crime scene photos. There were some midrange and close-up shots. The pictures held the truth.
BOOK: The Fall of the Prodigal
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