When Perfection Fails (4 page)

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Authors: Tyora Moody

BOOK: When Perfection Fails
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Chapter Seven
Before Lenora rushed out of the boutique, she tried calling Jonathan. Frustrated that he wasn't picking up, she held the steering wheel tightly. As she stayed in the left lane, she gunned the gas pedal, glancing down at the speedometer. She took a breath, looked to her right, and passed back to the right until she crossed over to the lane leading to her exit.
“Please protect my family, protect my child. Lord, please send your angels,” she prayed over and over again.
It took her longer than she cared to find a parking space. By the time she found a space in the hospital parking garage, Lenora's heart was beating so fast she feared they would be giving her a hospital bed. She smashed the elevator button as if she could make one of the elevators doors open magically. Then, she nervously twisted her hands and watched the elevators make a slow descent. Her mind was overloaded with thoughts.
Who was the man, and how did he know her family? Whoever he was, did he purposely target her son? He was certainly tormenting her.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Lenora pressed the floor number and leaned back against the elevator walls. Her family had been featured on the news and several Charlotte magazines in the past year as the church and her business had grown. Not to include the social media connections everyone in the family had. Anybody could have found simple information like her sons' names.
The media had been keeping the story of the hit-and-run accident in the news as well. Many people she didn't know probably knew about her family. It didn't explain the text messages which, she had to admit, were downright threatening.
Lenora stepped off the elevator and walked briskly down the hall toward her son's room. She opened the door and stopped.
Her heart did another slight drop. Keith was not in the bed.
Where is he?
Lenora spun around and went toward the nurses' station in the center.
“Hello, have you seen my son?”
The short nurse looked at her. “Your son? Oh, Mrs. Freeman. I believe he is scheduled to be discharged today.”
“Today?” Jonathan didn't tell her.
“Lenora?”
She turned around at the sound of her name. “Jonathan.” She walked away from the nurse. “Where's Keith? I don't understand.”
Jonathan reached his arm out and placed it around her shoulders. “He's fine, Lenora. The other nurse came and took him for a walk down the hall. They should be back soon. In fact, the doctor said we can take him home. I was going to call you after I signed the discharge papers.”
Lenora shook her husband's arms off and looked at him. “Well, why is he up walking? I thought he should be resting.”
Jonathan stared at her, and then looked behind him. He leaned into her. “Quiet your voice down, Lenora. Look let's go in Keith's room. I will explain what they told me. okay?”
She took a breath and walked ahead of Jonathan into the room. Lenora could feel her husband's stare.
After a few seconds of silence, he asked. “Are you okay?”
Lenora held her hand to her forehead. “Yes, I just want to know why Keith isn't lying down resting. Why is he being discharged now?”
Jonathan sat down in the chair. “The doctor gave orders for him to get up and move around some. With broken ribs, a person is more susceptible to blood clots and things going on with the lungs. There isn't really anything else they can do. The ribs will heal naturally with time and rest. This is a good thing, Lenora. There's no need to worry.”
That made sense to her. Lenora bit her lip and sat down in the other seat. There was a slow ache at her temples now. She closed her eyes and rubbed the sides of her head.
“You didn't answer my question.”
Lenora opened her eyes and looked over at her husband. “I just panicked when I didn't see Keith. That's all.”
“If anything was wrong, don't you think I would have called you?”
“Of course, you would. Look, don't sit over there and look at me like I'm crazy. I'm a mother, and my child could have died. The person responsible is still out there.”
Jonathan frowned. “It was a hit-and-run accident.” He folded his arms. “You sound like someone is out for our son.”
Lenora looked away, blinking to keep a sudden appearance of tears from flowing down her face. A memory from long ago floated in her mind.
Her mother had been gone a decade. Joan Houghton was strict, but loving. She couldn't make up for Lenora's dad not being there, but she did what she could to keep her children happy. Thoughts of her mother always brought memories of her older brother who she lost when she was twelve. Her brother was sixteen, the same sensitive age that Michael was, when a classmate took his life.
She could never articulate to Jonathan or her boys how deeply losing her brother had affected both her and her mother. Her mother made up for her brother's loss by being extraprotective of Lenora. Lenora, in turn, tried to protect her own sons who, in height and features, so often reminded her of her deceased brother.
Lenora would not let harm come to her sons.
Keith and his nurse showed up at the door. She rushed to Keith's side. “Honey, how are you? I can't believe you are up and walking. I'm so glad we can bring you home.”
Keith cringed as they slowly sat him on the bed. “Yeah, but everything hurts. I need some more pain medicine.”
Lenora asked the nurse, “What kind of medicine can we give him for the pain?”
The nurse responded, “Ibuprofen or Tylenol used as directed will work for the pain. In about two to three weeks, the pain should completely go away.”
“Good.” Lenora gently rubbed her hand across Keith's forehead.
“Mom, really?”
“What? You are never too old for your mama to rub your head.” For added measure, Lenora did it again.
Keith grinned and lay his head back on the pillow.
She loved her sons, and yes, she had been overprotective of both of them. Lenora sensed Jonathan was watching her, but she wouldn't look at him, knowing he still had questions about her behavior.
Being married to someone for twenty years, it was hard to keep things from the other person. Lenora was rarely rattled by anything, which was why she was the most-sought-after wedding planner. She could put a bride's mind at ease, tell a family to back off, and make sure the caterer and all other participants stayed on time.
She probably should have shared the text messages with Jonathan, but she knew he was still adjusting to his father's death. He wouldn't admit it, but his growing role at the church had become his sole focus. He was the third generation in a legacy established by his grandfather and carried on with his father's grace.
With Keith's accident, the last thing Jonathan needed was to have the weight of someone's nasty prank on his shoulders. The problem was, Lenora really wasn't sure the text messages and
that voice
were a prank. She was determined to find out.
Chapter Eight
Jonathan shook the hands of each of the passing members. Most Sundays, Lenora would be by his side at the end of the service.
An older woman who stood almost as tall as he, with the exception of the slight bow in her back, gripped his hand. “Pastor, we are praying for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. German. My family appreciates all of the kindness from the Pastor's Aid Club. We especially appreciate you.” Martha German was a legend here in Charlotte. The former teacher marched and had participated in the civil rights movement.
Jonathan noticed the silver-haired woman continued to hold his hand despite the long line behind her. “Pastor, that's why we are here. I'm just so glad to hear the boy is doing better. Life is not promised to any of us.”
Jonathan agreed. “Yes, ma'am. We're grateful.” He gently pulled his hand from the older woman's grip.
Still not ready to move on, Mrs. German proceeded to ask, “How's Mrs. Freeman? I noticed she wasn't in church this morning.”
“She's fine and by our son's side.” Jonathan looked at his watch, and then smiled at Mrs. German. “Keith is resting from his injuries at home today.”
After Mrs. German moved along, Jonathan greeted as many members as he could before heading to his office. As he pushed the door open, he started to unzip the robe with his other hand. He stopped halfway in the office when he realized there were people in his office. He looked back and forth. “Mother, what's going on?”
Eliza was sitting behind the desk. She pointed to the man sitting in the chair across from the desk. “Honey, Mayor Carrington came to visit us. He just snuck in Victory Gospel Church today.”
“Alex, nice of you to visit Victory Gospel this morning.” Jonathan completed unzipping his robe, and then reached for the hanger on his closet door. He'd known Alex since their days as Alpha Phi Alpha line brothers. While both men were the same age, Alex seemed to be fitter in his forties compared to Jonathan, who had gained a bit of extra weight around the middle.
Alex stood. “I'm so sorry to make a surprise visit, but after hearing about Keith's accident, I just felt like I should attend Victory Gospel Church this morning.”
Jonathan wrapped the robe around the hanger and zipped it up. “I saw you were here for Dad's funeral too. We appreciate your support.”
Eliza interjected. “My son's sermon was brilliant, wasn't it?”
Alex grinned. “Which one? Today or the eulogy? Mrs. Freeman, you have an amazing son.”
Jonathan glanced at the clock on the wall. “Mother, why don't you let me talk to Alex? I'll be ready to head to home in a few minutes.”
“But, son—”
“Mother, this won't be long.”
Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Okay.” She stood and grabbed her cane from behind the desk. “Mayor Carrington, it was nice to talk to you.”
Alex stood and reached for Eliza's hand. “You too, Lady Freeman. I enjoyed our talk too.”
What exactly did they talk about?
Jonathan was not too happy about his mother going behind his back. With the level of upheaval in his life, this conversation with Alex could have waited until another time.
When the door closed behind his mother's slow exit, Jonathan sat down behind the desk and eyed his longtime friend. “You know this isn't a good time to come by to check on my answer.”
“Oh, Jonathan, of course, I wouldn't try to force you into some decision right now.” Alex sat up in his seat. “I'm your friend, and I want to encourage you. Man, I don't think you realize how well-admired you are in this community, even more so than Pastor Jeremiah, and the people loved your father. I just want you to really consider the opportunity that awaits you.”
Jonathan looked down at his watch and clasped his hands together. “As I told you a few weeks ago, I will definitely consider running for the district seat, but I haven't even run this opportunity by my wife yet. Time and circumstances have not allowed the opportunity yet.”
“Surely Lenora would support you. People look up to her as well, ever since she had the feature article in
Charlotte Weddings
. Her business must be booming with wedding season approaching.”
Jonathan nodded. “Yes, the article drew a lot of attention for Lenora. I do want you to not forget . . .” Jonathan spread his arm out, “this massive church is my legacy and responsibility.”
“I know, I know, but that's even more reason to consider this role. You will be an advocate for many of the very members that attend Victory Gospel Church. That's a win-win.”
“What's in it for you?”
Alex held out his hands. “Why are you questioning my intentions, brother?”
“Come on, Alex. It's well-known you have some city council members that haven't been willing to play nice. Why are you approaching me?”
Alex stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “You're right. I need some people who are true leaders and willing to do what it takes to make the city of Charlotte a phenomenal place to live for its residents.” Alex pointed to him. “You are the man I need on my team and what Charlotte needs.”
Spoken like a true politician.
Alex's pitch did sound appealing, but something about the timing nagged Jonathan's mind. He stood and held out his hand toward Alex. “I need to pray more. This may not be the right time.”
“I respect a praying man, and especially an honorable man of the God.” Alex shook Jonathan's hand. “Give my love to Lenora and a speedy recovery to Keith and his girlfriend.”
He turned toward the door, and then stopped. “By the way, I put in a word with the police chief to make sure they do everything they can to look for this person. How dare someone leave the scene of an accident like that!”
“Thank you, Alex. I appreciate you putting in a word with the police. Lenora and I will sleep much better once we know the person has been caught and brought to justice.”
After Alex left, Jonathan looked over at the 8 x 10 framed portrait of his family on the corner of his desk. He didn't want to display how upset he was over the accident in front of Lenora and Keith, but it truly angered him that someone almost caused the death of his child. They'd just buried his father.
Jonathan knew bad things happened, and God was ever faithful and to be trusted. It was just too bad he was a pastor, Jonathan thought, because his inner man really wanted to hurt the person who caused harm to his oldest son.
Chapter Nine
After she took a sip from her vanilla latte, Serena eyed the man in front of her. She felt the sweetness hit her tongue, and then roll down her throat. It was midmorning on a Monday, and the crowd had long since dispersed from the popular coffee shop. She'd been intrigued with Lance Ryan ever since he found her in the corner booth. Her mind was racing with questions, but she needed to slow herself down. Serena placed the coffee cup down on the table. “These are some serious allegations, Mr.—”
“Lance. You can call me Lance.”
Is that even his real name?
The man took a sip from his cup of espresso; his pale green eyes conveyed a hint of amusement as he observed her.
Serena had been sitting across from Lance for about fifteen minutes in Starbucks. She was often mistaken for just being another pretty reporter, but her quick wit and intelligence allowed her to get a lot further in her career on more than beauty alone. Her ability to read people and pick up on a story were a part of her trademark style of reporting.
Right now, she couldn't read Lance Ryan.
Serena noted the jacket that fit snugly across Lance's broad shoulders was expensive. He wasn't wearing a tie, and he had the first two buttons of his shirt open, displaying a hint of a muscular physique underneath. There wasn't a glimpse of hair, and it appeared Lance either recently spent time at a beach or a tanning salon.
She glanced at his hands. The man took better care of his hands than she did, which is where the oddness began to bother Serena. Or maybe it was the skinhead buzz cut that revealed a tiny scar from the top of Lance's left eyebrow into his bare hairline. The ruggedness just didn't seem to match the expensive clothes and manicured appearance.
Still, he reminded her of an older version of Channing Tatum, but without the boyish charm. She sensed an underlying uptightness when he spoke.
Okay, Serena, you are here for the story. Focus.
Lance leaned forward and clasped his fingers together in front of him on the table. “If you have doubts, Ms. Manchester, I can vouch for everything.”
Serena continued to be drawn to the man's eyes, which she now realized were more hazel. They were green and now appeared to be turning blue. She moved her coffee cup to the side and sat up in the chair. “I need solid facts before I try to investigate anything going on at city hall. Mayor Carrington and I, well, we have our differences.”
That was an understatement. Mayor Carrington was still none too pleased about the way Serena reported on his past indiscretions during the last election. She was doing her job, making sure the public knew they were dealing with a man who was an obvious womanizer. Of course, the incumbent mayor won the election, despite the tight race.
How in the world did his wife stay with him was beyond Serena. Her second husband had cheated on her one time, and that was his last. Serena was never good with sharing.
She inquired, “Why is this important to you? What do you get out of this, Lance?”
He smiled, displaying a set of perfect white teeth that had to have been set with braces at one time. He countered her questions. “Why is it important for you to have this story? Don't you want justice served? Isn't it your mission to serve the public too?”
Wasn't she supposed to be asking the questions here? Serena grabbed her coffee cup. This time she swallowed the remaining coffee before placing the cup back on the table. “What are you, a Good Samaritan?”
The man grinned. “In due time, you and this city will appreciate me.”
Serena raised her eyebrow as she eyed him. She sensed Lance meant what he said, and that made her more nervous.
No one made her nervous.
Serena smiled. “Okay, you give me what you have and I will be the one to decide if it's worth my time to investigate.”
Lance reached down and placed a briefcase on the table. Serena could tell it was made of expensive leather. He clicked it open and passed her a thick folder. Then Lance stood slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. “I will be in touch very soon. You will see what I have is going to bring the truth to light about some very important people.” With that, the man moved through the forming early lunch crowd and left the coffee shop.
Serena followed him with her eyes. Lance walked with his back superstraight, almost like he was a soldier. He stopped and turned toward the window and smiled.
She gulped.
No way!
She knew he shouldn't be able to see her, but it felt like he was looking directly at her. It could have been because she was near one of the coffee shop exits, but she was pretty sure the chill that crept up her back had nothing to do with the brisk weather outside.
Serena was so caught up in watching Lance move out of her line of sight she didn't realize she was clutching the folder he had left her. That man was on a mission and from experience, she needed to get her story but tread carefully.
She relaxed her shoulders and flipped open the folder. Did Lance really have evidence to bring down a city council member? There was nothing worse than finding corruption in city government, especially among local leaders who people trusted and had voted into office.
Serena frowned when she saw the spreadsheets, but then she started to see familiar project names. One in particular had been in the news a lot lately. The Hudson Housing Development. As she continued to browse the contents of the folder, the chill Serena had experienced before transitioned to warm excitement. Now
this
was the kind of story she loved to come her way.

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