by H. H. Fowler
But he must leave the Beaufort estate now – while he had the chance. Because thinking about the wrong moves he’d made in the past could make him lose focus. When he was out in the clear, he would text Dallis and inform her that her room may have been placed under surveillance. What a pity Dallis’ room was on the second floor. He would have simply climbed out of her window and escaped. But since everyone seemed to be out at the moment, it looked as if now was as good a time as any to pussyfoot across the main hall and locate the nearest exit.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Izaiah walked through the front door of the guesthouse, balancing a tray of breakfast goodies. He’d promised Asia that he would go over to the main house and ask Miss Rose to prepare something for them to eat. That way Asia didn’t have to worry about running into her father and explaining anything. But knowing that Asia’s mind would be vacillating while he was gone, Izaiah turned on the music set and left a collection of inspirational tunes playing in the background. He knew it would soothe Asia into a serene state. When he walked up to the coffee table and placed the tray in front of her, he was pleased to see that there were no tears in her eyes.
He gave her a guarded smile and asked, “I wasn’t gone too long, was I?”
“Not at all. I was actually enjoying the music.”
“I thought you would. Dean Fraser is one of my favorite sax players.”
“I’ve never heard of him,” Asia said. “But I can see why. Though it’s a reggae compilation, his music is very relaxing. I think I recognize the tune.”
“For the Love of You,” Izaiah replied. “By the Isley Brothers.”
Asia held Izaiah’s gaze and she could swear he’d spoken those words with a purpose in mind. But all it did for her was bring back memories of Jorge and how deeply she had loved him. She dropped her gaze to the floor, in an attempt to distort her sad expression.
Thank you, Izaiah,” she said, raising her eyes to him again after a few seconds. “You’ve been very kind to me – in spite of the fact that I’ve treated you so nastily. My father has ‘supposedly’ kicked me out of the house, but you were so willing to stay by my side. I need you to know that I appreciate it very much. I can be a real pain sometimes.”
Izaiah felt his heart leap with anticipation. Asia was finally being nice to him and he hated to do or say anything that would change that. “I don’t mind at all,” he told her, more eagerly than he’d hoped. “We all need someone to lean on at times. I promise to be there for you.”
“Even if it means my father takes the youth minister position from you?”
“It would be hard to part with it, but yes, even if it comes to that.”
Asia looked at the handsome face in front of her, sincerely impressed with the earnest expression she saw. “You are a good man, Izaiah, but I will never let things come to that point. Staying here with you could pose a problem.”
“I don’t see why. There are two separate bedrooms in this guesthouse, each with its own bathroom attached. The place is big enough where we don’t even have to cross paths.”
“People will get the wrong idea,” Asia said. “Just look at how Candi reacted this morning when I opened your front door. I’m sure she went running to my father.”
Izaiah chuckled. “I probably would have done the same thing. You painted a vivid picture of us doing things we shouldn’t be doing.”
“I only told Candi what she wanted to hear…she’s terribly smitten with you, by the way. Hence all the drama that you see. Candi gets like that when she’s really into a guy.”
Izaiah had to restrain his next set of words. He wanted to tell Asia that he was smitten with her, and that he hadn’t any romantic interest in Candi at all, but he knew Asia wasn’t ready to move on from what she’d had with Jorge. As painful as that was, Izaiah respected such a thing as time. Time, along with his nightly prayers would reveal if he and Asia were meant to be. For now, he would simply sit and enjoy eating breakfast with her – if he could keep from staring at her stunning features.
****
Several minutes later, Gregory knocked on the front door of the guesthouse. He was dressed in his usual tennis getup, hoping to use it as an excuse to see what Izaiah and Asia were up to. He trusted Izaiah would not cross the line with his daughter, but a man was a man, whether he was a Christian or not. Put him in the right setting, the right mood, with the right woman and a combustion would be created. Gregory knew of very few hot-blooded heterosexual men who were able to turn away from as gorgeous-looking a woman as his daughter. But he would not allow Candi’s jealous antics control his decisions concerning Asia.
This time, Izaiah was the one to open the front door of his guest house. “Bishop Beaufort,” he greeted uncomfortably.
“It seems as if you weren’t expecting me,” Gregory said. “I was hoping we could play some tennis before the heat swells.”
“Um, sure…but Asia and I are in the middle of eating breakfast.”
“So, she’s alright?” Gregory inquired. “Candi told me that she slept here last night.”
“In the second bedroom,” Izaiah added quickly. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He then gave Gregory a sincere look. “I would never do anything that would bring dishonor to your home, sir. Asia assumed she didn’t have anywhere to stay –”
“I trust that you are a man of your word, Izaiah, but never say never,” Gregory interrupted. “That puts too much confidence in the flesh. For it was the Apostle Paul who wrote that no good thing dwells in this corruptible flesh.”
“Yes sir…I will remember that.”
A beat of silence passed before Gregory spoke again.
“How is your sermon preparation going for this coming Sunday?”
Izaiah tried to swallow his confusion, but it didn’t work. “I wasn’t aware I was to do it consecutively. You told me that –”
“I know what I told you, son. I don’t see the need to lengthen your probation period.”
“But it hasn’t even been a week.”
“You are well-received by the church, Izaiah,” Gregory said firmly. “And I will not have you to disappoint them. Sunday’s attendance was one of the best we’ve had since I took over almost twenty years ago. I am fifty-one years old and I have seen a lot of changes in my lifetime. I ought to know when it is time to pass on the baton.”
The baton? Izaiah could not hide his astonishment. “But sir, I was under the impression this move was only temporary.”
Gregory sighed as he turned to leave. “Who knows if I will be alive tomorrow, Izaiah? I want to set things in place. My only advice to you is extracted from 1 Corinthians 15:58…be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain…I will be on the tennis court warming up – if you decide you still want to play a few matches.”
Gregory left Izaiah standing with his mouth open. Unquestionably, the words were moving, but it sounded like a farewell speech. Izaiah didn’t know what to make of it. He walked back into the guesthouse with an abandoned appetite.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About twenty-four hours later, two unmarked police cars were parked a little ways from the web shop the anonymous email had supposedly come from. One of the unmarked cars belonged to Detectives Richard and Karissa, who had decided to use the first part of the morning to walk the rookies through a surveillance gig. Truthfully, it was an easy job for the rookies to do, but Richard was the type of detective who preferred to keep a tight control on his cases.
Karissa was busy going through additional documents she’d dredged up on the House of gods – testimonies of those who were once a part of the secret organization and had managed to get away.
“Richard, I know you told me we’re not going to pursue the secret organization theory, but I think you should listen to this.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave it alone,” Richard smirked. “You are filled with intrigue.”
Karissa grinned. “What
is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing…” Richard put a cup of coffee to his lips and turned away. “But you’re gonna tell me anyway – even if I stuff my ears with cotton.”
Karissa playfully punched Richard in his arm. “Stop making fun of me, Richard. I might be on to something.” She ruffled some papers in her lap she’d printed from the Internet. “I think this is a very interesting tidbit of information I stumbled across. This website claims to expose the hidden world of all major secret societies – secrets that have been sealed for over 200 years! The House of gods might have just developed in recent years, but it is third on the list as having one of the largest secret memberships throughout the world.”
Richard suppressed his smile. “Okay…you have my attention.”
“Well, there’s a man by the name of Larry Humphrey who is a former member of the House of gods. For security purposes, he is using a pseudonym and has kept his geographical location unknown, but he swears the information on his website is taken from personal experience.”
“Obviously.”
“Patience, Richard. I am getting to the good part. He mentioned Bliss Haven as one of the secrets spots where the House of gods has been set up for more than twenty years!”
Richard tore his eyes away from the web shop entrance and gave Karissa a suspicious glance. He said nothing at that point, but allowed Karissa to continue to make her case.
“And get this. There are twelve dimensions – as Humphrey refers to them – an inductee goes through before gaining access to the highest secret being kept. And this ultimate secret has something to do with the church. Pastors and those with influence in the ecclesiastical arena are constantly targeted to help propagate its doctrine. Humphrey details each dimension, explaining what is required of the inductee and the sacrifice that is often made in blind faith.”
“I’m still stuck on the part about Bliss Haven,” Richard said. “We are a little dot on the map. How could an organization of this magnitude be hidden for so long under our noses?”
“And if it wasn’t for that anonymous email, we would have continued to be kept in the dark about its existence,” Karissa chimed in. “It makes me wonder what really goes on behind closed doors. Humphrey attempts to expose a lot of it…but I’m not going to bore you with the gory details. Believe me; it will make your stomach sick. However, I think we should give this theory a second look. I have a hunch that the person who sent that email to us is begging for our help, but is afraid of what the organization might do. Remember, this person mentioned that this organization killed Jorge Bentley and Chazz Brunswick. That’s enough to put fear in those wanting to get out.”
“I don’t know…it sounds too elaborate to me,” Richard said, returning his gaze back to the web shop. “Because that would mean that Jorge and Chazz were somehow connected to the organization and that would open up a whole new can of worms. I haven’t even figured out where Anwar fits into all of this. I’m still holding to my intuition that that email was sent to distract the police from the real murderer, which could be the same person who is sending this information to us.”
“But Richard,” Karissa pleaded. “There’s a possibility that a fraction of this secret organization is set up on the island. This doesn’t have to be a wild goose chase. At least, we could establish a real motive behind the killings. Those young boys were killed because they were trying to escape or were trying to expose the organization in some way.”
“Did I tell you I love how your mind works?”
“Come on, Richard. Put all fun and jokes aside. I think we should engage this anonymous person a little more – try to find out what else they know.”
“We already have, but we haven’t received a response as yet.” Richard paused, as his gaze locked on a young woman who’d jumped out of a blue Kia Rio hatchback. She slid a pair of shades over her eyes and then hurried through the entrance of the web shop. “Things are getting stranger by the minute.”
Karissa followed Richard’s gaze and tried to determine why he’d said that. “What are you talking about? I don’t see anything.”
“That young woman who just walked into the web shop,” Richard said. “I am almost certain that is Dallis Beaufort, the bishop’s daughter.”
“What is she doing here?”
“I don’t know, but let’s wait here for a few minutes before we make anything of it.”
Half an hour passed and Karissa was out of patience. “I wonder what she’s doing in there so long.”
“You know police surveillance could be one of the most time-consuming gigs in the world. Patience, my dear, patience.”
Richard’s cell phone finally buzzed with an email message almost an hour later. He reached for it with a grim expression. If this anonymous person turned out to be Dallis Beaufort, he would be thoroughly disappointed, but more confused than he’d ever been in his life. Dallis was like family, a good Christian girl who usually stayed out of people’s way. He dared not accept her as having anything to do with this baneful affair.
But Richard was about to be completely stupefied. Not only was the email from Dallis, but she had alluded in the email that she was responsible for Jorge Bentley’s death. Richard almost had a mental breakdown in the driver’s seat.
“What is it?” Karissa inquired.
“I don’t have a clue what is going on,” Richard mumbled. “But I know we are going to make an arrest this afternoon.”
****
When the red pickup truck pulled to the side of the road at the entrance of St. Elmo’s Valley, Anwar jumped off and waved his appreciation to the old man. He had escaped the Beaufort estate, using the kitchen exit at one o’clock in the heat of the day. There were times Gregory’s men were not stationed at the main gate and Anwar wanted to believe he’d gotten away without being seen. But he couldn’t dismiss the sick feeling in his stomach that his escape had been too easy. He hadn’t planned on returning home to St. Elmo’s Valley, but circumstances were precarious all around. He felt it was safer being some place where he was familiar, rather than be on the run in an unknown parish. His prayer along the way had been that God would not punish his parents for his decision to return home.
The text he’d sent Dallis had been short, but filled with emotions he rarely shared with anyone: I think your room has been bugged. Be careful of what you say. I am okay for now. Thanks for helping me out…and just in case I don’t get through this, I want you to know that I have fallen in love with you. I have wanted to say those words from the first day I laid eyes on you…Anwar had struggled with those last two sentences, erasing it several times before deciding to leave it at the last minute. Two months ago had he known he would have been on the run for his life, he would have listened to every word Jorge tried to tell him. Now he and Dallis may never get the chance to express what they feel for each other.
Mrs. Daxon was taking out the trash when she noticed Anwar coming through the yard of their small two-bedroom cottage. She turned white with shock, because for over three weeks she had been forced to believe that her son had been murdered. Everything fell free out of her hands as she dropped to her knees in tears. Mother and son greeted, both overcome with deep gratitude unto God. Mrs. Daxon began yelling for her husband, barely able to contain herself. With a huge grin, Mr. Daxon hobbled down the dirt path and embraced his wife and son. The three held on to each other as they moved toward the entrance of the cottage.
****
“Gotcha! I knew you couldn’t stay away from your mommy…mommy’s frightened little boy.”
The voice belonged to the man who had been assigned by Ms. V to bug the Beaufort estate. He, along with his two partners in crime, was inconspicuously parked down the street from the Daxon’s home. But they were in an older Toyota model, rather than the black limo. The last time, they remembered, it drew too much attention. They could have easily taken Anwar as soon as he’d jumped off the pickup truck, but they didn’t want to create another fiasco as they’d done in
the case with Jorge. Too much noise was already in the media.
They had been coming to St. Elmo’s Valley at least three times a week, setting watch for when Anwar would show up. Other times they drove back and forth in various directions, hoping they would have caught him dragging his steps. Where else would Anwar go? They knew after his little money ran out, he would go back home to his parents. The wait had been a while, but eventually it paid off handsomely.
Ironically, Gregory’s men hadn’t any idea that Anwar had been hiding right beneath their noses at the Beaufort estate for six whole days. For if they had known, Anwar probably would have been dead by now and secretly buried deep within the scrublands of Bliss Haven. One of the men placed a private call to Ms. V’s phone number.
“We found our target,” he said with an arrogant tone.
“Anwar is alive?” Ms. V sounded surprised. “Bring that Judas to me at once! He knows better than to stir trouble for us.”
“Well, er…he’s not that accessible.”
“I don’t care! Do what you have to do. Just bring him to me so that I can castrate him!”
The line was sharply disconnected. The man turned to the other two men and shrugged.
“You heard the boss,” he said. “Let’s get this little bastard and if anyone stands in our way I give you the command to use any force necessary.”
People do crazy things when they are in love
- Hercules
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Still trying to recover from his shock, Richard stared through the investigation glass at Dallis Beaufort. He could see that she was terrified. For the last three hours, he and Karissa had been trying to get Dallis to give a full statement of her confession she’d sent by email, but the only thing they got from her were a bucket of tears and a plea for the detectives not to contact her father. Deep down, Richard knew Dallis couldn’t have done what she said she’d done. It just didn’t make any sense to him that she would shoot Jorge Bentley in cold blood.
