Lindsay's Legacy
Page 20
“What are we thanking Him for, Grandma? Mama was shot, and she won’t ever be able to walk again. She might not even be able to sit up or move again. Why are we supposed to be thankful?” Shauntae screamed at her grandmother.
“We are going to thank the Master that my baby, your mama, is not dead. She’s alive. The devil’s plan was to kill her. Satan did not send Sha’Ron to simply paralyze your mama. He wanted her dead, but God stopped his plan. She’s alive. Now let’s pray.”
Everyone gathered around and held hands. A few of the strangers in the waiting room who overheard Sherrie’s speech also joined in the prayer circle as well.
“Father in heaven, we come right now to say thank you.” Sherrie began to cry again right then, but she continued to pray and cry out to God. “We thank, you, Father, for sparing my child’s, more important, your child’s, life. Lord, the devil has an agenda and he was on his job, but you, Lord, said no. Father, we come right now as a family of believers, and we are believing that you, who can do exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ever think and ask, will do your very best for our daughter, wife, sister, and mother. Lord, we are asking that you touch the hands of the surgeons, Lord. Guide them the way that you will have them to go so that your plan and purpose is brought forth in Lindsay’s life. The doctors say that the best that we can hope for is paralysis from the waist down, but we know you to still be in the miracle-making business. You, Lord, are bigger than the doctors, and we know it is you who have the final say.
And, Father, I come praying right now for the strength and courage for all of us to be able to handle whatever your will is. Help us, Lord, to support my daughter and to support each other. And, Father God, I also come praying for Sha’Ron. Lord, we know that the baby was just an instrument used by the devil. I pray, Lord, that you have mercy on him. Let this trauma be a wake-up call for him, Lord. Touch him, Father, and show him the way to you. Touch his family as well, Father, as they deal with all that will come from this. This is our prayer in Jesus’ name ... Amen.”
In unison, everyone else said, “Amen.”
“Frannie, there is definitely something wrong with Sha’Ron. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s not good. I have never seen anyone look the way he did when he came in here about an hour ago. Francine, honestly, he looked like the walking dead. He went in his room, and he hasn’t been out.”
“Have you tried to talk to him, Tameeka?”
“Yes, I’ve knocked on his door three separate times. He has not answered, and the door is locked.”
“Tameeka, remember, Sha’Ron has been through a lot these past few weeks. He may just be having a delayed reaction to Mama’s death. We’re going to have to give him some space. If you couple that with Uncle Bobby more than likely being locked up for the rest of his life, Sha’Ron, just like us, has a lot to deal with. We have to cut him a little slack.”
“Hold on, Frannie. Somebody’s at the door.”
“Oh my goodness. Nooooo!” Tameeka heard Francine’s words just before she removed the cordless phone from her ear, but she would address them after she answered the door.
Tameeka looked through the peephole and saw two plainclothes police officers standing in the snow on the still unshoveled porch. She panicked. Her heart began to beat a mile a minute. Everything inside of her told her that the two detectives on her porch definitely had something to do with Sha’Ron’s bizarre look when he came in a little while ago.
She put the cordless phone back to her ear. “Francine, there are two detectives at the door. I haven’t opened the door, but I know this has something to do with Sha’Ron.”
“Meeka, I just heard on the six o’clock news that Nay-Nay was shot in the driveway of her home in broad daylight. The news report says she’s in critical but stable condition.”
Tameeka nearly fainted. She let the phone fall from her limp hands. The police knocked again, more forcefully this time. The loud noise brought her out of her stupor.
Not exactly sure what she should do, Tameeka glanced in the back of the small house to see if Sha’Ron had emerged from his bedroom at the sound of the loud knocking. He had not. The door still remained closed.
“This is the Detroit Police Department. Please open the door,” a loud voice exploded from the other side of the two doors that separated them and Tameeka.
Slowly and warily, Tameeka took the lock off the storm door and opened it. She didn’t immediately open the screen door, however. She just stared at the officers outside without uttering a word.
“Ma’am, is this where Sha’Ron Taylor lives?” one of the officers asked.
Tameeka could only nod her head in affirmation.
“May we come in?” the second detective asked.
Tameeka slowly pushed open the screen. Beyond the two detectives on the porch, she now noticed four other uniformed officers, two marked and one unmarked police cars.
The detectives stepped in quickly and two of the four uniforms approached the porch, but stood just outside the door. The detectives identified themselves by name, but Tameeka did not hear their names.
“Ma’am, we have a warrant for the arrest of Sha’Ron Taylor. Is he here?” Detective One asked.
Still too stunned to speak, Tameeka simply looked in the direction of her nephew’s bedroom. The detectives looked at each other. Detective One silently agreed to take the lead. He walked toward the bedroom with Detective Two following a few feet behind. Detective One knocked on the door and waited a few seconds for a response. Upon not receiving one, he knocked again.
“Sha’Ron, are you in there?” Still no answer. The detective tried the door to find it locked.
“Ma’am, do you have a key? If you don’t, we’ll have to kick it in,” Detective One said.
Tameeka, still stuck on mute, shook her head.
Detective One stepped back and kicked the door in the vicinity of where the lock was. The door flew open easily from the force of the officer’s leg.
On the inside of the room Sha’Ron sat on his bed facing the door with his hands folded in his lap, his head hung toward the floor.
“Sha’Ron Taylor, we have a warrant for your arrest for the attempted murder of Lindsay Vincini.” Detective One advanced carefully toward Sha’Ron, who stood cooperatively as the officer got close enough to touch his shoulder. Detective Two entered the room. He turned Sha’Ron so he could place the handcuffs on him. After he was cuffed, the officers did a quick but thorough search of Sha’Ron’s person to check for weapons. One of them then began to read him his rights as he led Sha’Ron out of the house without incident.. . .
When Sha’Ron saw Lindsay’s blood begin to stain the white snow beneath her body, he felt complete terror and panic take over him. He stood in the middle of the street just staring as the sidewalk became more and more coated in crimson. It wasn’t until he heard the voice of a neighbor who had come from inside his house to investigate the sound of the gunshots that he actually moved.
“Young man, do you know what happened out here?”
From the man’s distance, he was unable to initially see Lindsay’s body lying on the ground.
Sha’Ron turned and stared at the white man for several seconds. Now he was paralyzed in that position.
The neighbor began moving in Sha’Ron’s direction until he got close enough to notice the large silver gun in his hand. Then he stopped moving, afraid now for his own life.
When Sha’Ron saw the stranger’s hand go to his mouth to stifle any noise that threatened to come out, he was again propelled into movement. He quickly tossed the gun in the car, jumped behind the wheel, then sped off down the street at a dangerous speed.
He drove to his friend’s house without even realizing how he got there. He jumped out of the Malibu and left the keys in the ignition even though he had the presence of mind to turn the car off. He was happy to see that his friend was home because his Mustang was parked in the driveway. He got in his car using his spare key and drove away.
Sha’Ron used to think this was the coolest house. His daddy and Uncle Bobby were the coolest men in the world. These two men seemed to have all the power in the world right in the palm of their hands. They would speak and grown men immediately moved into action. There were always a lot of pretty women around too. The ladies would always tell Sha’Ron how cute he was. Those days held great memories for him.
But again, that was before his father died. Every time he had come to this house since then, all his uncle wanted to talk about was how he had to avenge his father’s death by killing his stepmom. Now he had done it. Now the evil witch who killed his father and mother and who his family considered responsible for the failed health and death of his grandmother was also dead. And he had done it on his own without the help of his stupid uncle.
He sat in front of the house until a city police car came cruising by. The police officer got out of his car, came over to Sha’Ron’s vehicle, and asked for his identification and insurance information. Sha’Ron told the officer that he had come by to pick up something from his uncle’s home but just realized he had left the spare keys to the place at home. The police officer bought his story because of the similar names. The city police were well aware of who Robert Taylor was and that he was currently in custody.
After the scare with the West Bloomfield police officer, Sha’Ron subconsciously drove himself home, went to his bedroom, locked the door, and sat in the one position until the police came to take him into custody.
Chapter Nineteen
“Thank you, Officer. Yes, sir, we appreciate your prayers. I’ll be in touch.” Cody hung up after ending his phone conversation with the detective handling Lindsay’s case. Cody approached his wife’s hospital recovery bed. “That was Officer Jarvis Williams. They have Sha’Ron in custody, baby. He was arrested and charged with your attempted murder.”
Lindsay lay flat on her back staring straight up. Cody had to stand over her for her to be able to see his face. She took a painful deep breath and released it extremely slowly.
Cody saw the strain it took for his wife to breathe and anger shot up so hot in his bones, he nearly screamed from his frustration. He watched her lie there, unable to move, fear covering her features, sadness radiating from her pores. He loved this woman like he loved no one aside from God before her. In fact, he actually loved her before he loved God, before he had enough sense to love God more.
Lindsay tried to speak, but her words initially came out in a faint whisper. Cody leaned in closer in an effort to hear her clearly.
She attempted to speak again, and Cody’s ear was pressed near on top of her lips. But even though he was listening closely, he was certain he could not have heard her correctly.
“Baby, please repeat that.”
“Cody, you heard me. I want you to forgive Sha’Ron for what he did. I want you to represent him in court.”
Cody walked away from his wife’s bed to collect himself before he cursed in front of her and God.
Lindsay had been out of surgery for about six hours and awake for about an hour. Cody had convinced Sherrie and Kevin to take the kids to her home after the surgeon had come to give his post-op report while Lindsay was still asleep.
“The surgery on Mrs. Vincini went as well as to be expected. In other words, we were able to remove the bullet in her shoulder with no complications. We were also pretty successful in maneuvering and repairing the area around the spine damaged by the bullet that hit her in the back. Right now, there is a lot of swelling around the spine. Once it goes down in about seventy-two hours we will be able to assess where she is physically and in her movements. But from the looks of things, the chances of her being mobile from the waist up are pretty good. So keep praying.” The surgeon then left them in their private waiting area.
That was hours ago. Now Cody stood in the room alone with his wife wondering if they had accidently opened her head and worked on her brain instead of her back. He stared at her awkwardly, questioning if he should go find the doctor. She was obviously having a reaction to the medication.
“I see you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”
Cody stared even more strangely at her because he now believed she was truly serious.
“Lindsay, I don’t want you to wear yourself out. Otherwise, I would make you explain yourself. But my primary concern is your physical health. I’ll deal with your mental stability later.” Cody’s voice was filled with agitation.
“Cody, I can talk, and I must say this while it’s on my heart.” Lindsay paused to catch her breath. “Can you give me some water,” she rasped out.
Cody stood next to Lindsay’s bed and placed the straw to the water cup in her mouth. She took several sips, nearly draining the cup. She then continued to plead her and Sha’Ron’s case.
“Baby, I, of course don’t like what Sha’Ron did, but I can relate to why he did it. Honey, I have walked in Sha’Ron’s shoes. He hates me because I killed his father and mother. He probably feels that Shaun’s death is what made his grandma sick. So inadvertently, I am responsible for Patricia’s death also in his eyes. Remember, I killed Shaun because I blamed him for Shyanne’s death. I snapped after all the trauma I suffered as a result of my relationship and marriage to him.” Lindsay’s voice began to fade. “More water.”
Cody moved from over the bed where he stood listening to and watching Lindsay speak. He took the cup to the nurse’s station to find out where he could refill it.
As he walked to where he was directed, he thought about what Lindsay had said thus far. While he didn’t agree with her, it amazed him that she could be so forgiving and understanding. He returned to the recovery room hoping that Lindsay had fallen into a nap, but she was wide awake. He again held the straw to her lips while she took a few sips.
“Cody, do you remember trying to talk me into taking a temporary insanity plea? You said we had a good chance of winning considering my state of mind when I shot Shaun. You said I could have gotten a self-defense plea for killing Rhonda. Well, if you think I was crazy when I shot Shaun, how do you think Sha’Ron felt when he shot me? I killed both his parents.”
Cody’s admiration for his wife soared, but his animosity for her assailant had not lessened any. He couldn’t understand how Lindsay could expect him to be in the same room with Sha’Ron and not end up charged with attempted murder himself at the very least.
“Lindsay, you are asking a lot of me. I know it’s wrong to feel this way, but right now, I hate Sha’Ron. I’ll pray that God removes this anger from my heart, but right now, it’s there, wild and hot.”
Cody lips said he hated Sha’Ron, but his demeanor and his attitude had softened somewhat. Lindsay remained silent. She was allowing her words to continue to work on her husband. The tone of his voice told her he was starting to give her idea some consideration, despite what he said. He just had not realized it yet.
Cody paced the room as he tried to come up with the words to explain to his wife that her desire for him to represent Sha’Ron would not come to fruition.
“Lindsay, listen, even though I don’t want to defend Sha’Ron, no judge would allow it anyway. He or she would consider it a conflict of interest at the least, and perhaps even legal sabotage.”
Whoa! Lindsay had not thought about that. It just might look crazy to a judge to have the husband of the victim defend her shooter.
Cody came back and stood over the bed. He could see the wheels turning in the head of his beautiful wife. His last argument had convinced her that it was not possible for him to defend Sha’Ron.
“Baby, look, I don’t want you to worry about Sha’Ron right now. I just want you to concentrate on getting strong enough to get out of this hospital and back home to me and
the kids.” Cody leaned in and kissed the compassionate head of his wife. Unable to resist, he then kissed her dry, chapped lips.
Lindsay felt Cody’s lips as they touched and melded with her own. She was very grateful to God for the ability to feel the intimate caress of her lover’s mouth.
“Lindsay, I want you to know this. I heard your argument on behalf of Sha’Ron. Just knowing that you not only don’t hate him, but you want to help him pulls deeply on my spirit. On the strength of your forgiveness, I want you to know I have given up the idea of personally harming him. As I said, I will work with God on forgiving him to the point you have, but I feel grateful to Him already for taking even just that much anger from me.”
“Cody, I want you to talk to Tameeka and Francine. You are a great attorney. I know you can convince them to allow you to sincerely represent Sha’Ron. They’re his guardians now, I’m assuming. Therefore, they can convince the judge to allow you to defend Sha’Ron. They are allowed to choose whatever attorney they want to, right?”
Cody bucked his eyes as his mouth fell wide open. “Are you still on this, woman?”
“I am, honey. I believe in this with all my heart. You said it yourself, if I can forgive him while lying here in my condition, then I know God can give you the heart to not only forgive him, but offer him the best defense any defendant has ever received.”
“Lindsay, I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can, Cody. You just have to work your faith. You believe in God, and you trust His Word. His Word says that faith without works is dead. This is an opportunity to truly put your faith to work. His Word says we are to forgive our enemies. It also says we are to feed our hungry enemies and by doing so, we will heap burning coals on their head. Honey, by our helping him, I think that means God doesn’t want us to make Sha’Ron suffer. I think that means this can be an opportunity to show a soul who knows nothing or little about our God how wonderful He really is. Sha’Ron needs us, Cody. If I remember correctly, you are the one who told me it was our Christian duty to give him that help. This is not about us, but all about God.”