When Perfection Fails (18 page)

Jonathan rushed over to his wife. “Are you all right? What's going on? Are you hurt?” Lenora had her hands over her mouth and was visibly shaken. It was a good thing he'd decided to come home to check on her. Why his wife was borderline hysterical was a mystery to him. He prodded her. “Lenora, please calm down and let me know what happened.”

She waved her hands in the air and began to pace the floor. “Give me a minute, okay?” Lenora tried to stand still, but started pacing again. She put her hands on her hips as if she was trying to catch her breath. She stuttered between gulping for air. “Why didn't you call and let me know you were coming home?”

He frowned. “I did call. I tried to call you on the home phone, on your cell, and I thought at some point you must have gone to the boutique. I called and Sarah was in the office. You need to teach that young lady to take Mondays totally off. What's the point in having the boutique closed?”

Relief slowly washed over Lenora's face. She doubled over and started laughing.

Jonathan stared at his wife, wondering if she was having a mental breakdown or something. “Lenora, you have me worried. Really worried.”

 

She stood up straight and took a deep breath. There was wetness around her eyes. She hastily wiped her eyes, and then bent down to pick up the knife off the floor. Lenora tossed the knife in the sink and walked over to the counter as if all was normal. She finally said, “My cell phone is on the charger, and I guess you were the one who called when I was on the phone with Detective Jackson.”

He was so confused, but he tuned into the conversation, hoping that whatever ailed Lenora wouldn't return. “Why did the detective call?”

The doorbell rang from the front of the house.

Lenora flinched from the sound. She gripped the countertop. “That's probably him. He wanted to come by the house to share some information. Looks like you're just in time. Can you get the door? I'll join you both in the living room.”

Jonathan eyed her again. “All right, take your time.” He walked toward the front door and opened it. “Detective?”

Darnell turned around. “Pastor.” He held out his hand. “Good to see you. I'm so sorry we keep meeting under these crazy circumstances.”

“It is what it is. Come in.” Once the detective stepped inside, Jonathan closed the door. “Follow me this way.” As they entered the living room, Jonathan looked for Lenora. “My wife should be with us soon. Have a seat.”

Darnell sat down in the chair nearest the door, while Jonathan sat on the couch. He observed the detective pulling a notebook out of the inside of his jacket. “We appreciate you coming to our home. Going to the police station was a bit unpleasant last time.”

“I do apologize. I really just wanted to get Mrs. Freeman out of the eye of the media. I hate that they managed to harass you last weekend.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yes, that was an experience. I'm glad they have moved on to the next story.”

Darnell glanced around the living room. “You have a nice home, Pastor.”

“Thank you.” Jonathan looked around for Lenora.
What is she doing?
He asked Darnell, “So, did you come by with news about Charmayne?”

“Yes, did you, Detective?” Lenora floated into the room and perched herself on the edge of the couch. Jonathan noticed she had changed from the pajamas she was wearing into a T-shirt and jeans. It wasn't often his wife dressed down so casual. It was a good look for her. Despite the worry lines around her eyes, she appeared young and fresh-faced without her usual made-up face.

Darnell confirmed. “There is still some investigation into Charmayne's death. I actually came by to follow-up on the story you shared last week. It did concern me that Charmayne and you were receiving threats, so I looked into some records.”

“Oh.” Lenora sounded small and quiet. “You found information about the man from the accident.”

“Yes. As you already know, the man survived the accident. What was interesting about the hit-and-run was the victim didn't make much of a fuss about finding the car that hit him.”

Jonathan inquired. “So back then, the man didn't appear to be upset enough to seek justice. Doesn't seem plausible over twenty-five years later.”

Darnell nodded. “Exactly.”

Lenora frowned. “Well, did you find out what happened to him?”

“He died.”

Lenora sucked in a breath. “After the accident?”

Darnell held up his hand. “No, no. He died several years later. In fact . . .” He flipped through his notebook. “It was about eight years ago. According to his death certificate, he died from cardiac arrest. He was a heavy drinker. There were several DUIs. Around the time of the accident, he had no license. He also had been into quite a bit of trouble . . . robberies, auto theft, etc.”

“Really? So Charmayne just happened to run down a criminal?” Lenora leaned back on the couch. “That doesn't make what happened comforting. He was still a human being.”

“True, but I wanted to come tell you this because we needed to rule out anyone who may have influenced Charmayne's death. Right now, it's not the victim because he's been buried six feet under for almost a decade.”

Jonathan said, “That's a bit of relief. Don't you think, Lenora?” His wife continued to look puzzled. “Lenora, are you okay?” He felt like he had been asking his wife this same question on a regular basis.

“I'm still confused. What about family? Did you check to see if this man has a family? Are you sure this man you're telling me about is the same man?”

Detective Jackson flipped a page in his notebook, “His name was Jack. Jack Sellars. I did look into the possibilities of whether he had some family. He had one sister who is also now deceased. He didn't have any children, but she had two boys and a girl.”

Jonathan couldn't understand why Lenora couldn't let go of the fact that there was no one there from the past. He, in fact, was more concerned about the hit-and-run accident that occurred to his son a few weeks ago. “Detective, I know this isn't your territory, but it might be helpful to find out who was involved in our son's accident.”

Darnell started flipping through his notebook. “You know what? That was something else I wanted to tell you. Since I was on my way here, I decided to check with the Crash Unit. Someone came forward.”

Lenora leaned forward on the couch. “Who?”

Jonathan reached out and touched her arm. His wife appeared ready to take flight. He was still concerned by her earlier hysterics.

Darnell answered. “It was a young woman, a single mom. She turned herself in last night. Apparently, she had been drinking, and she knew something had happened. The damage on the front of her truck matched up to the accident.”

Jonathan sighed out loud. “Well, I'm glad the young woman came forward. At least we know there was no malicious intent in our son's accident. That's good news, right, Lenora?”

Lenora stood and paced the room. “Yes, I feel better, but I still don't understand why I was getting those messages. Why did someone go out of their way to bring up the accident from years ago? It's like they knew it was a big secret. Someone called me from Charmayne's phone.”

The room grew still. Jonathan studied how Lenora twisted her hands. He tilted his head to observe Detective Jackson's reaction. Darnell's eyes were locked on Lenora. Jonathan wasn't sure what was going on, but alarms went off in his head.

The detective narrowed his eyes. He stood and walked over to Lenora. “You know, we did acquire Charmayne's phone records, and you were the last person she called.”

Lenora waved her arms. “I had been calling her and leaving messages all morning. Did you hear any of my voice mails?”

Jonathan stood. He was concerned about Lenora's behavior. “Look, Darnell, this is still a big shock to all of us, especially Lenora. I'm just happy that there doesn't seem to be any threat.”

“What?” Lenora yelled. “I don't believe that one bit. There was someone out there threatening Charmayne. She was scared, and nothing rattled Charmayne.” She walked up to Darnell and pointed her finger. “You can't just shut this case down and declare Charmayne's death was a suicide.”

Darnell folded his notebook and placed it inside his jacket. “Nothing is closed yet, Lenora. I have to tell you we have searched the house. There are no letters or e-mails showing threats. We have looked for foreign fingerprints in the house. There were no fingerprints, other than Charmayne's and her housekeeper. In fact, her place was spotless. If she had a struggle with anyone before she died, there wasn't anything found under her fingernails.”

Darnell took a breath. “What we did find was alcohol in Charmayne's body. Since she didn't leave a note, Charmayne reaching out to you is the closest we have that she had tried to send a message. I'm sorry, but right now, there is no evidence of foul play.”

Lenora folded her arms again and rubbed her shoulders as if she had grown cold. “I think she said most of the threats were by phone. You just said you checked her phone records. Who else called her? She had to have made contact with someone else after she left the boutique that afternoon.”

“We are making contact with everyone on that list. There wasn't a pattern of calls from one particular number. You mentioned whoever texted you was no longer accessible. There may be numbers that are dead ends, but we can certainly try to trace the serial numbers back to the stores where the phones were purchased. That's a long shot, though.”

Lenora threw up her hands. “Well, someone is going to get away with murder. And why would someone send messages to me? Are you saying the warnings were about Charmayne's death?”

Jonathan looked over at Detective Jackson. The detective glanced at him and seemed to be pondering how to proceed. He finally spoke, “I will admit the fact that you received theses messages is bothersome. We can't be sure that it wasn't Charmayne.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Charmayne was a drama queen, but why would she do something that elaborate? She came to me, clearly scared. Let me tell you, nothing or no one, with the exception of maybe her father, scared Charmayne. She didn't back down from anything.”

Darnell nodded. “I'm aware of Charmayne and her work on the council. It's known she was a fighter.”

“Then you make sure her death is investigated. I know you have done all you could, but someone is responsible.” She walked out of the room.

Jonathan closed his eyes.
This wasn't good at all.
“Darnell, I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, Reverend Freeman. I just feel bad. I was hoping I could bring your wife some closure from the past incident and about your son's hit-and-run accident. I just don't know how to answer what happened at Charmayne Hudson's home.”

Jonathan nodded. “Keep looking. Lenora will be okay. It's going to take her some time to process Charmayne may have really committed suicide. We do appreciate you coming by.”

He walked Darnell out. After Jonathan closed the door, he lifted his head to the stairs where Lenora had gone and then closed the door to their bedroom.

Lenora was more distraught than before Darnell arrived. The news brought no closure. Jonathan had always been at odds with Charmayne when she was living. While he didn't know what to think either, he knew for certain his wife needed to face the facts, no matter how painful.

Serena glanced at Reverend Wright and put on her best smile. “I don't want to make this difficult for you, I promise you. Look, I talked to Charmayne a few days before her death and she really wanted to fulfill her dad's legacy. It's just a shame that it's all crumbling now. Can you tell me who was on the committee? I know the meetings were held here once a month for several years. There has to be other people who believed in the project.”

Reverend Wright sighed. “As long as you are not trying to smear people's names, especially those who are no longer here to defend themselves, I can ask the secretary to provide you with the committee records.”

Serena clasped her hands together as though she'd won a prize. “Thank you. I really appreciate having access.”

“You can follow me to the office.”

She followed the pastor out of the sanctuary, trying to keep up with his long strides. If she didn't know any better, she had a feeling Reverend Wright wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible. Serena still couldn't understand why there was so much discomfort around the project and the Hudsons.

The pastor stopped inside the secretary's office which was next to his office. The office was jam-packed with a desk and a copier. Serena didn't know how the heavyset woman was sitting comfortably in the small room. A noisy fan kept the office relatively cool.

Reverend Wright extended his arm out to his secretary. “Linda, this is Ms. Manchester. Linda served as the secretary of the committee most of the time it existed. Linda, can you provide Ms. Manchester with copies of the last few meetings on the Hudson Housing Development project?”

Serena asked, “Are there any photos or videos with the record too?”

Reverend Wright and Linda both stared at her.

Serena explained, “I just wanted to know how the committee members looked for later reference. Plus, you know city council records their meetings. I understand it was Charmayne's idea. I thought maybe this committee did too.”

Reverend Wright eyed her intensely. “Sorry, we aren't that high tech. We had a diverse group of people who had a common purpose to serve the community. You don't intend to harass these people, do you?”

“Of course not. Don't you like to be able to picture a face with a name, Reverend Wright?” Serena smiled and looked over at the secretary. Linda was looking down at her hands. Sensing that the room had grown quiet, Linda lifted her head and glanced at Serena briefly before looking back down.

“I will leave you two. Please don't cause any trouble.”

Linda looked very familiar to Serena for some reason, but she wasn't sure where she saw the woman before. The woman glanced at the pastor, and then asked before he left, “Reverend Wright, the committee meetings started almost seven years ago. Exactly how far do you want us to go back?”

Serena raised her eyebrows. That was a good question. She didn't realize the project had been around that long. Serena suggested, “How about we start with last year?”

Linda looked for approval from Reverend Wright who was at the doorway looking ready to bolt. He threw up his hand. “Give her what she wants.” He pointed to Serena, warning her again, “Just don't use anything to destroy a man and his daughter's good name. Remember, this church and community is mourning.”

Serena watched Reverend Wright strut down the hall. He certainly was very protective of the Hudsons. Being the pastor of the church founded by Bishop Hudson, Serena could see the awkwardness for the man if a scandal occurred. She was thankful that their time together had ended. Something about Reverend Wright made her remember why she wasn't a fan of most ministers.

She turned her attention to Linda, who reminded her of most dedicated church women that Serena had known in her life. She wondered how much of a life Linda had outside of the church. Linda waddled her way from around the desk. Serena glanced down at the woman's ankles and noticed they appeared swollen above the orthopedic shoes she wore.

Linda tilted her head toward the door. “Come on this way. We keep the records in the other office. As you can see, there isn't much room in here for filing cabinets.”

They entered a room down the hall from the offices which appeared to be a classroom. A table sat in the middle of the room. There were several metal chairs that didn't really fit neatly under the table. Sure enough, there were several filing cabinets lining the wall. As Linda pulled out drawers, Serena walked around the room. She turned and asked, “Have I met you somewhere? You look so familiar to me.”

Linda nodded. “Well, I've seen you on TV, but I doubt we have met before. I have been the church secretary here for over twelve years, so who knows. It's been a transition not having the bishop around, but Reverend Wright, bless his heart, is a sweetheart.”

Serena concentrated on a memory. “Do you have a sister or someone else here in Charlotte you're related to?”

“Just me and Dorothy.”

Serena's ears perked up. “Dorothy? The seamstress at Lenora's Bridal Boutique?”

Linda had an armful of manila folders by now. “Yes, she's my older sister.” She placed the stack of folders on the table. “How do you know Dorothy?”

“I met her the other day when I was at the boutique. She shared with me about Charmayne and Lenora's friendship.”

“Oh yeah. Those girls were two peas in the pod growing up. They kind of grew apart when they left high school, basically meaning you didn't see them tied to each other any longer. Lenora married Reverend Freeman, and she has pretty much attended Victory Gospel. We occasionally see her back at her home church for various events. But, yeah, there was a time you never saw Charmayne without Lenora and vice versa. It was probably a good thing for Lenora.”

“Is that so? Why do you say that? You know Lenora found her the other day.”

Linda had pulled out several stapled papers. She stopped and placed her hands on her hips like she was tired. “That's not surprising. Lenora was loyal and dependable. I heard stories of her checking on Charmayne, even making sure the girl was sobered up.”

“Sobered up?”

“Child, Charmayne had a drinking problem. It was more of an obvious thing when she was younger. Most people knew about it, but no one dared say anything to the bishop's face.”

An alcoholic. Interesting.
That changed some things in Serena's mind. She wondered if the police had made note of Charmayne's alcohol level. They certainly didn't make that information public. In fact, they still weren't saying anything about the official cause of death.

Linda grabbed an empty printer paper box from next to the cabinets. “I'm going to make copies of these for you. Here is the most recent list of committee members. You can have that copy. I will be right back with these minutes from the last year.”

“Thanks.” Serena quickly scanned the list and was immediately disappointed. There were a variety of names she recognized, most, of whom, were leaders of other churches and organizations in the district. The one name she was looking for didn't appear to be on the list. Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised since she had always felt Lance Ryan wasn't using his real name. So how did Lance get the financial records that he had?

Serena looked up and noticed Linda had left the drawer open to the filing cabinet. She tiptoed over to the door and peered around the door frame. She could hear the steady hum of the copier running. Serena glided over to the open filing cabinet drawer and quickly scanned the folder labels.

One folder was labeled Financial Records. As she kept looking she could see other financial records in the file drawer. Serena glanced at the door, and then reached for the first folder. She flipped open the folder thinking she should have asked Linda to make copies of these too. After all, the financial reports should be public record.

Serena noted the spreadsheet was a similar format to the ones she had obtained earlier. She scanned the numbers and from memory she realized the numbers were similar to the document Lance had given her. So he had the original document. Where did Charmayne get her numbers from? Charmayne's numbers were considerably lower than these.

Serena listened. The copier was no longer humming. She slapped the folder closed and placed the committee list on top just as Linda walked in with a pile of papers in her hand. As the secretary stuffed the papers in an envelope, Serena slid the folder lower so the secretary wouldn't notice.

Linda tucked and patted the papers to make them neater. Then she handed them to Serena. “All right, here you go.”

Serena placed what she had in her hand on the table and reached for the papers. She waited until the woman turned to close the cabinet drawer and placed the folder she took from the drawer between the other papers. Serena held the contents against her chest. She said, “Thank you for your help, Linda.”

Linda seemed to be trying to catch her breath. “Anything I can do to help, I will be glad to.”

Serena got an idea. She carefully pulled the list of committee members off the top of the stack and placed it on the table. “There is one other thing you can help me with. I noticed the committee is not just members of Greater Heights.”

“No, like Reverend Wright said, this was more of a committee of community leaders. Other churches as well as business leaders are on that list.”

“So they all had a prominent place in the community.”

“I would say.”

“What other people would have been involved that weren't on the committee?”

Linda rubbed her chin, upon which Serena noticed tiny curls of hair sprouting. She recoiled. The woman needed to shave that atrocity. Serena tried to focus on what Linda was saying.

“I took the minutes at some of these meetings. I was the committee secretary for several years, although I stopped last year. I had to have some surgery on my feet. Anyhow, there were outside people that came to the meetings, mostly in real estate or construction. They did have a consultant who came in quite a bit in the beginning. He stopped coming one day. That was five years ago.”

Serena perked up. “Really? Why did he stop coming?”

“I believe he had a disagreement with Bishop Hudson.” Linda dropped her voice down low as though the deceased Bishop Hudson was about to walk into the room. “Nobody ever disagreed with the bishop. He might let you get away with it one time, but not more than once. He let that man go. I remember the man was really upset about it too. He marched out of the bishop's office, red in the face.”

Serena asked, “Did he threaten the bishop or his family?”

Linda shook her head. “I don't know if it got that bad, but you never know. Bishop Hudson did have his enemies.”

Serena didn't doubt that he did. She asked, “Do you have any information about this man or the company? What was his name?”

Linda looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I don't know. It's been so long ago. I want to say his name was Ryan something.”

Ryan.
This was the closest Serena thought she would be able to come. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

“He was a sharp dresser for his size.” Linda chuckled. “Some of the ladies used to say we smelled his cologne before we saw him coming. Not bad looking for a white guy either.”

Serena frowned. She wondered if Linda was talking about the mysterious Lance Ryan. No, he wasn't bad looking, but something evil lurked beneath that man. If he was involved with this project, it appeared the man had every intention of making sure the project never saw the light of day. Why, though?