Like sheep gone astray, p.34
Like Sheep Gone Astray, page 34
Is that nervousness in his eyes? Hesitation? Anthony wondered, trying to make sense of the look on Walter's face.
“I spent two years and three weeks looking for that man and then I found him just in time to watch him kill himself down in the rail yard of AGS. It took me another fifteen years to figure out what he did with my money. That's seventeen years I spent broke, dirt poor, without the money I planned so perfectly to get. Hundreds of thousands, you hear me? Do you know what that's like? To know you have a windfall out there but you're still living like a pauper? To know chat your financial success was stolen by a quote-unquote partner who disappears like water in air?” The gun became steadier in his hands. Anger seemed to be replacing the nerves.
“I am not responsible for my father's actions.” Anthony kept his eyes centered on Walter's, determined to stand tall and strong like Samson did as he pushed the pillars on the Philistines. Samson went down with the enemy. Anthony turned his focus off of the fear that was trying to inch back into him. If Walter was the last person he saw in life, Jesus would be the first person he saw in death. He was convinced, holding on to that thought for courage.
“You're right, Anthony. I never said you were responsible.” Walter gave in to a slight smile. “1 just thought it unfair, as you would call it, that I spent years of my life struggling because of your father and he just slides away into eternity. After all I went through, it only seemed fair to me that somebody should pay.”
Walter took a step closer to Anthony as he spoke. “When I found out he had a family that he walked out on, I befriended your mother and stepfather in the hopes that one of them would come across the money. When they died, my last hope was that maybe when you turned eighteen or twenty-one, some large trust fund would appear in your name somewhere and I would be able to stake my claim. When that didn't happen I did my own research, and I found accounts your father opened at a whole bunch of different banks. The money meant nothing to him because he was dead, nothing to you because you did not know about it. And because it had sat so long in interest-bearing accounts, it had nearly quadrupled in value. I'm talking millions.”
“The money wasn't enough? You got what you wanted, so why did you have to make my life miserable?” Anthony crossed his hands behind his back. His fingertips quietly brushed the end table behind him for something, anything, he could use against a nine-millimeter. He stopped at what felt like a toothpick. Hey, if little David could take out the giant Goliath with a small pebble from a pond, anything was possible.
“I could not just let you go because you were about to make me lose my money.” The anger was boiling into controlled rage.
“What are you talking about?” Anthony pinched the toothpick between his thumb and forefinger. This was ridiculous. What was he going to do with a toothpick? He was not MacGyver. He let it drop.
Walter was responding. “I invested all of the money I found in Toringhouse Steel, AGS Railroad, and virtually everything else steel-related in this part of the state. When Toringhouse went bankrupt, I was not too bothered because AGS was planning the Stonymill station, and that promised to be a success. But when I heard that you were considering using your business strength to support CASH's efforts against the Stonymill light rail station six months ago, I knew I had to keep you from getting involved.”
“I was just one man working at one marketing firm. How was my taking up Bethany Village going to make or break you?”
“You have never realized the power of your influence, Anthony. In the years that I've known you, it seems like everything you touch turns to gold. I could not let you get involved with CASH because then Stonymill would never have taken off, and what was left of my investments would have dwindled away to nothing. I'm sure of it!”
Anthony was taken aback at the councilman's assertion. Walter seemed more certain about Anthony's authority and power in the Kingdom of God than he was himself.
Didn't I say I'd make you the head and not the tail? Didn't I say that the man who delights in My law, everything he does shall prosper? All these years he had been focused on his own agenda for success, and all he had to do was recognize the promises of God, His favor, at work in his life. Anthony's heart rang with praise to the Faithful One even as his eyes stared down the barrel of a handgun. I'll either be saying Hallelujah to You face-to-face in a moment, Lord, or You better believe I'll be shouting down the aisles at church on Sunday morning, Anthony thought to himself.
“Something funny, Mr. Murdock?”
Anthony did not realize he was smiling. Walter's finger tightened around the trigger; obviously he was peeved that Anthony found a reason to look happy even with death staring him in the face. Anthony knew he had to step more carefully. No need to rush up the rungs of heaven's ladder. Keep the man talking.
“Stonymill was six months ago. You dangled your money and I went for it. You won. Why all this new business with the check and the BEA? Couldn't you just leave well enough alone?”
“Once Stonymill was taken care of, I knew that I had to take care of you for good. That had been too much of a close call. I was not going to take a chance and let another Murdock have a free stab at my money.”
Anthony could see the hesitation in Walter's fingers as he kept the gun pointed at him. He kept the questions coming. “So you expected me to fall for the money? That's the only way your plans would have worked.”
“You are your father's son. I recognized that money-hungry gene in you a long time ago. With the right bait, you were an easy hook. I only wanted to get you behind bars and away from my money. When I found out about Reginald Savant's wishes to have the BEA, I knew that I could take his generosity and use it against you.
“Reginald thought I had talked you into willingly leading the organization, and that the money was for pure philanthropic purposes. He knew nothing about the bribes. He gave me the money to give to you, wanting to take no credit for jump-starting black businesses in this community. He simply never realized how perfect his plans and timing fit into mine.”
“I give you credit, Mr. Banks. You planned everything well.” Anthony wondered if Walter wanted praise and recognition for his craftiness.
“Everything was coming together perfectly.” Walter began to sound bitter. “Even when Sheriff Malloy started sniffing around my finances, all I had to do was flash him some green and he promised to follow through with getting you locked up for everything. Like your father, I expected your conscience to catch up with you. I expected that you would turn yourself in at some point, then Malloy was going to throw the book at you. I don't know what came over him today. Him and that darn Gloria. I never expected her to dig up so much stuff, but she's not a factor anymore.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Anthony gaped. Had Walter done something to Gloria?
Reflective for a moment, Walter rested the gun on his thigh.
“It was never supposed to come to this, but I don't know what else to do.” Walter slowly raised the gun again. This time both hands fingered the trigger.
“Walter, look—” Anthony was trapped, the end table behind him, Walter before him.
“Please, Anthony, don't make this any harder than it has to be. And don't worry about Terri. I've already made sure that she'll be taken good care of by Reginald Savant.”
Terri and the baby! There was no way Anthony was going to bow down to death. He was not finished doing the work God had called him to do. Jesus! he silently prayed, asking for supernatural strength, or at least divine intervention.
A squirrel scurried outside the front door, causing Walter to look away for one quick second. Anthony took that second to bear all of his strength into Walter's side, grabbing his wrists, reaching for the gun. They wrestled together in sweat and groans until both had landed on the floor, sending a ceramic lamp crashing with them and the room into darkness. Anthony's hands were wrapped around the barrel, but Walter still had control of the trigger. They wrestled some more, the noise of the fight echoing loudly in the isolated space.
There was a quick pause when both simultaneously caught their breath. During that brief moment of inactivity, both of them noticed a loud scuffle on the front porch. A sudden screech and a pounding bang vibrated on the floorboards.
What kind of squirrel was that? Walter aimed at the heavy oak door that was suddenly swinging open. Anthony's eyes widened with the realization that he and Walter were not the only two engaged in hand-to-hand combat. A flurry of arms and legs, fists and slaps rolled through the opening door.
“What the—” Walter pulled the trigger. A loud crash, part gunfire, part breaking wood, reverberated throughout the cabin. Blond hair tracks flew in as a bullet smoked out.
Before any sense could be made, Anthony scrambled to the doorway.
“Terri! Oh God no!”
They were sitting in an empty conference room at the police headquarters, all of them. Cherisse and Reggie sat next to each other; Cherisse with her head bowed, Reggie with his tie loosened, staring blankly at a newspaper. Denise and Mabel were locked arm-in-arm at the oval table. Kellye stood at a window, staring straight ahead. A stoic gaze replaced the tears in her eyes. Gloria crunched loudly on a small bag of cheese curls Mona had offered her from a vending machine. Outside, chants and shouts filled the street below the headquarters. Despite the occasional shatter or threat, the police had control of the crowd.
The door to the office squeaked open and all eyes turned.
“Anything?” Reggie's voice echoed through the quiet room.
“He owns a lot of properties, and not only in Shepherd Hills. They could be anywhere within a hundred-mile radius.” Kent Cassell had a stack of folders under his arm. “Gloria, if you ever need a job, you can be my assistant. The work you did uncovering Wanjala Razi has taken this case further in six hours than I'd gotten in six months.”
“Has it taken us to Anthony and Terri?” When there was no reply, Gloria resumed nervously chomping on another cheese curl. “Then it wasn't good enough.”
“It's not over yet.” Kent was firm in his words, his sharp blue eyes zeroing back down on the files in his hand.
A woman tiptoed through the door behind him. It was Mona, and she carried two large Thermoses in her hands.
“I brought some coffee in case anyone wanted some.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I wasn't sure if there was anything else you needed,” she said to Kent. “I tried calling you on your cell phone, but I forgot you didn't have it.” She began pouring the steamy liquid into some mugs she had gathered around the station.
“Yeah, my cell phone.” Kent shook his head as he flipped back through the papers. Then he froze, his eyes locking into Mona's. “My cell phone! Did you say you called my cell phone?”
“Yes.” Mona suddenly looked uncertain, her eyes darting around to everyone in the room. “But I think I kept dialing the wrong number. The last time I called, the woman cursed me for ten minutes. Kent, darling, what is it?”
The detective had disappeared down the hall.
The edges of the evening sunlight had folded down into darkness. From the front porch of a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, Anthony fought the urge to fold down with the day.
“Hang in there, babygirl,” his voice was gentle, endearing as he whispered into her ear. “We're going to get out of this together.” He held Terri by the hand, stroking her relaxed hair as his eyes surveyed the thick foliage of the surrounding forest. He did not want to get them lost and stranded in such an isolated place, especially at night, but he knew that he had to get the two of them away. Nikki and Walter were not going to stand there and argue forever.
“I don't want to hear any more about your darn plan!” Nikki's voice screeched louder than Walter's. He had her by one fist, the gun still dangling in his left hand. “She and I are here now, so you're just going to have to figure out what to do. I'm not taking that thing back to Reggie! You said that I could have him!”
“Everything will be all right,” Anthony whispered as Walter began a long, violent tirade in Nikki's face. He kissed Terri's hairline as he fashioned out a plan. There were a couple of cars right in front of them but Bonnie and Clyde had the keys, so that wasn't an option. The woods surrounded them on every side. It was dark, but it was going to have to be do-able. Anthony looked down again at his wife hunched over the wooden steps.
“Terri.” Concern glowed in his eyes. “Do you think there's any way that you can walk?”
“What are you talking about? Of course I can walk. Why wouldn't I be able to walk?” Terri's face was buried in the wood planks, her eyes closed as Anthony gently lifted her head to face him.
“Your stomach, Terri. The bullet hit your stomach.”
“Bullet? What bullet?” Her eyes shot open as her mouth dropped. “That was a gunshot? I thought that darn limo was still backfiring. Who the heck is shooting guns around here?” She looked past Walter and Nikki, who were in the middle of a pushing and shoving match.
“So you're not hurt? Why are you holding your stomach like that?”
“I was trying not to throw up, if you must know.”
“What?” Anthony looked confused momentarily, and then a smile spread across his lips. “Oh, the baby.”
“Yes, the baby.” Terri closed her eyes again, but flung them back open. “The baby? How do you know about the baby?”
“The surprise, remember? Terri, your clues weren't exactly quantum physics.”
“My clues? Are you crazy? You thought—”
“Look, Terri, I'm not going to go back and forth with you anymore. Let's just talk. We haven't done that in a long time. You are my wife, and I love you, and I want to show my love for you the same way God shows His love for me.”
“So now you love me.” Terri was sitting up. “If that was true then why would yo—”
“Terri, look at me.”
“If God really—”
“Terri, look at me.” Anthony held her face close to his so that all she could do was look into his eyes. He held her like this, quiet, no words, no diversions, nothing but two wayfaring wanderers meeting at the same straight path. A tear blinked out from her lashes.
“What is it, Terri?” Anthony whispered as he tenderly massaged her wet cheek. “What do you see?”
“I see…love. And I see Jesus in you.”
“And you're about to see him face-to-face. I'm sorry, Terri.”
They never noticed that Nikki and Walter's argument had come to a close. Walter stood over the two of them, the gun pointed at the top of Terri's head. Nikki sulked nearby.
“It should have never come to this”—he glared at Nikki as he spoke—”but I've got too much to lose.”
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a cell phone began ringing. Walter looked with impatience as Nikki began digging through her purse. She was still searching pockets, unzipping zippers, as the shrill notes of the cell phone became drowned out under piercing sirens. Blue-and-red flashing lights cut through the darkness in the near distance.
“You can get a signal out here?” Anthony smiled as he helped Terri to her feet. He felt it deep down in his spirit. The nightmare was over.
“Nikki! I told you to keep that phone off! Don't you know they can trace that signal to wherever you are?”
Nikki rolled her eyes as she pressed Talk. “Hello?”
“You've been answering that phone?“ Walter was horrified.
“Yeah, why?” Nikki rolled her eyes again, but then looked down at the cellular phone like she was seeing it for the first time.
“Oops.”
“That's all you can say?” FBI and state troopers were slamming into the driveway.
“Uh”—she paused—”it's for you?”
As she passed the phone to a stupefied Walter, Terri could have sworn Nikki winked at her.
Chapter 20
One year Later
And Lord, may every oppressed, enslaved soul find freedom within these gates; every sick and hurting body find grace within these walls; may the homeless and the destitute know that they have found a pillow, and every foot that would go astray find the path to life here. In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen!” Pastor Green shouted a word of high praise into the microphone as the tape was cut and the balloons were released.
Anthony followed with his eyes as the multi-colored dots dispersed above their heads. It was a perfect, blue, cloudless day for the opening dedication of Bethany Village's first wing. As the senior director of public relations and marketing of CASH, Anthony had made sure that the celebration was grand enough for the highest dignitary's standards, yet touchable enough for the meekest child's embrace. He welcomed the unusually sun-filled September day as an approving nod from God.
Eric Johnson, standing between Gloria Randall—his administrative assistant—and Pastor Green on the podium, gave Anthony a thumbs-up. The smile on Eric's face was overflowing. Anthony had found his niche, his calling. The pay surpassed dollars.
“Hallelujah!” He joined the others in celebration as he gave Terri a quick squeeze around her waist. She was fussing over Adrienne, as had become her custom over the past three months, but took a moment to smile up at her husband's face.
“You did good, Anthony. Your father would be proud. Your whole family would be proud.” Her voice softened. “I'm proud of you.” She kissed him lightly on the lips before pulling the fuzzy pink blanket tighter around the sleeping infant. Before she could reposition the pink and white DADDY'S LITTLE GIRL bib under her chubby chin, a sharp poke on her arm jabbed her back to attention.
“Oh my goodness, she looks more and more like you. You too, Anthony.” Cherisse squealed as she took the infant. “Give me my baby. I could hold this little angel all day.”
“You'll be fighting with Sister Porter for that privilege.” Terri laughed. “Ms. Kellye has pretty much adopted Adrienne as her own. She's always saying that Adrienne and I are the daughter and granddaughter she never had. I don't mind. God knew I was going to need all the help I could get, running this business from home.”
