by H. H. Fowler
“We cannot confirm; however, if Bishop Beaufort is still alive. The Coast Guard has been searching the waters, combing the deserted island, but there has been no sign of Bishop Beaufort. And to add to the police’s frustrations, Ms. V and her men are basking in their right to remain silent. But the little they have offered are conflicting stories of what happened on that deserted island. However, none of it has revealed the whereabouts of the prominent bishop. FBI agents from the U.S. are scheduled to escort Ms. V back to U.S. soil later this afternoon, where she will be tried for her crimes…”
“Everyone thinks that you’re dead.”
Gregory’s heart rate dithered at the sound of the voice. He looked to his right and saw the silhouette of a man, moving slowly toward him. The man clicked off the TV with a remote and stared at a very frightened Gregory.
“It’s okay, Matthew, you can come in,” the man called and then turned his attention back to Gregory. “Don’t be alarmed, I won’t hurt you. I’m the one who saved your life. I thought you might never come out of your coma.”
With the man being so close, Gregory could get a better description of him. He was average height, a little on the muscular side, but if Gregory judged by his headful of grey hair, he would assume the man to be in his mid to late sixties. However, he did not appear frail or incapacitated in any which way. He pulled up a chair to Gregory’s bed.
“I can see a million questions in your eyes,” the man said. He offered Gregory a warm smile. “I guess I should start by telling you who I am. My name is Frank Dubbin and I am a preacher, assigned by God to categorically expose the kingdom of darkness.”
The name so resonated through Gregory’s entire body that it made the muscles twitch violently in his knees. Was he dreaming? He could not believe that this was the same Frank Dubbin who’d been taking the airwaves by storm, warning Christians about dabbling in the occult. The same man who’d gotten him thinking about his own sins and his ungodly relationship with the House of gods.
The man named Matthew appeared with a black leather bag in one hand and a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He gave Gregory an observant look before asking him to turn on his side. He needed to clean the wound. Gregory winced in pain as the man undid the bandages. He still could not remember what had happened to him.
“How did I get here?”
Frank decided to respond to Gregory’s question with a question of his own. “Do you believe in the supernatural? Well, I would hope that you do, if you call yourself a preacher of the Bible. The Bible itself is a supernatural wonder – the way it has endured so many centuries of persecution. It is the very breath of God, the blueprint of heaven that was carefully and divinely given to man for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness. It’s written right there in 2 Timothy 3:16.”
Gregory stared at Dubbin as if he’d lost his mind. He did not ask for a mini sermon on the veracity of the Bible. He wanted to know what happened to him and why he was confined to this room.
“You should not allow your spirit to become so easily upset,” Frank said on cue, as if he’d sensed Gregory’s change in mood, “because you are alive by the supernatural invention of God. I found you on the sand, covered in blood. I have been interceding for you for three years that God would keep you alive, so that you can return back home to your family. You must understand, Mr. Beaufort, nothing happens just for naught. Our destinies are intricately woven from a heavenly perspective, which Satan opposes and desperately tries to destroy.”
Frank said sonorously, “You were born to serve God! The possessor of heaven and earth! Do you realize you were dead when I found you?”
Gregory did not quite understand and it showed in his expression that Frank was a little too eccentric for his taste. Every now and then, he winced as Matthew applied pressure to the affected area.
“What do you mean that I was dead?” he asked Frank.
“I did not stutter,” Frank replied. “You were clinically dead, but within the purpose of God, you were merely asleep. You were shot in the back and must have been thrown into the sea to drown.”
When Frank said that he had been shot, Gregory received an instantaneous memory of him running, trying to flag down a chopper in the sky. He recalled a searing pain struck him from his spine to his legs, which quickly crumpled beneath him. He’d been conscious long enough to remember being mercilessly dragged over the prickly shrubs by Ms. V’s men.
“Matthew removed the bullet, which had slightly grazed your spinal cord,” Frank was saying. “But let me start from the beginning so that you can get an appreciation of what God has really done for you. I am a fisherman by trade, but have retired some six years ago to give myself fully to the service of the Lord. However, I did not get rid of my boats. I rent them to the younger fishermen for monthly rental fees so that I can keep my bills paid.”
“I was on my bed meditating on the Scriptures, when I suddenly felt a strong compulsion to check on my boats in the harbor. I have four of them, which I hadn’t checked on in months. So I knew it was the Holy Spirit speaking to me. God still speaks by the way, despite this modern generation’s attempt to ignore that precious voice.”
“The Coast Guard,” Gregory muttered, still unsure whether or not he should believe Frank’s dramatic account. He was worried that he’d been gone so long that people would begin to forget about him, moving on with their lives as if he’d never existed. “How long have they been looking for me? My family must all think that I’m really dead by now.”
“I am concluding how God used me to save your life,” Frank said. “Your concern is valid, but not necessary. Because as soon as you are strong enough, I will take you to your family. Now, don’t you want to hear the rest of the story? I should hope so, because the devil tried many times to kill you and for a short while he thought that he had.” Frank let out a sigh before continuing. “By the time the Coast Guard began searching that deserted island, you were already in my boat. You had been washed up on the sand, about a mile away. Don’t ask me to explain it, because I don’t know how it happened.”
“The Lord had instructed me to take one of the boats out to sea. I hadn’t any idea what I would run into. I simply obeyed the direction of God in my heart. I didn’t even know who you were until I studied your face. But because you are well-known in Bliss Haven, it was not that hard to recognize you.”
Although he’d also prayed for God to rescue him from Ms. V and her men, Gregory still had a hard time accepting Frank’s story as he was telling it. Could he conclude that God had performed a miracle? Something that could not be explained by the natural order of things. Yet, Gregory faltered in his faith, as he was sure most people would, if something like this had happened to them.
“Why didn’t you alert the police?” Gregory asked. “You must have known you could get into trouble for kidnapping me.”
“Did you just imply that I’d kidnapped you?” Frank chuckled. “You had no pulse. If the Coast Guard had found you in that state, they would have taken you straight to the morgue. But I believe God wants to reveal His glory in your life. And I also believe there are a lot of people praying for you, apart from me. How could God deny such a powerful display of faith?
“So, when I kneeled over you, my prayer was brief, but very intense. My belief was that God had already done it. Eventually, I got a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. I carefully lifted you into the boat and administered first-aid. Called Matthew and told him to meet me at my house. And the rest, as they say, is history. Now, I think I’ve exhausted your strength. You need to get some sleep.”
Frank stood up to leave, knowing Gregory still had a pile of questions to throw at him. But Frank knew only God would be able to give Gregory the comfort he sought. Pausing before he walked completely out of the room, along with Doctor Matthew, he smiled and said heartily, “You are in Bliss Haven, by the way, about seven miles from your house. That should keep you in good spirits. But remember, Bishop Beaufort, prayer gives he
aven permission to invade the earth. I will leave you with this portion of scripture from James 5:16 – the New Living Translation. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results!”
Chapter Twenty Four
Early the following morning, the detectives showed up to the Beaufort estate before the family had a chance to leave the house. They did, however, meet Anwar tossing his work bag in the back seat of his pickup truck. Anwar turned and spotted the detectives making their way up the driveway. His heart leaped with both anticipation and dread, knowing the results of their findings could be disastrous.
Anwar said without preamble, “Things are getting kind of crazy around here and it makes me feel as if I can’t relax for one minute.”
“We understand,” Richard said, handing Anwar back his cell phone. “We, too, have been up to our necks trying to bring closure to this case.”
Anwar replied, “I’ve heard on the news that Ms. V was extradited to the United States yesterday. What’s going to become of her?”
“We don’t know,” Karissa chimed in. “But I’m hoping they fry her brains out. She and her men have destroyed too many lives and in the process have destroyed the reputation of this island. But I am impressed with the way she was able to maintain her silence, despite the constant pressure that was applied to her in that interrogation room.”
Anwar’s eyes darted back and forth between the detectives, trying to decrypt their solemn mood. “That means you guys still don’t know where Gregory is?”
“That’s what we have come to talk to the family about,” Richard said. “So, if you have a few minutes to spare, I would like to meet with everyone –”
“Before you do that,” Anwar interrupted. “I want to know what you guys found out about those anonymous texts.” He lowered his voice instinctively. “And…that disgusting video.”
“It’s too early to tell,” Karissa answered. “But as Richard has predicted, the number the perpetrator used to send those text messages isn’t listed with the Bliss Haven telephone provider.”
“The number appears to be out of state,” Richard rejoined. “Maybe Mexico, which has more than a hundred different area codes. So we can’t be sure.”
“The amount of red tape we’d have to go through to track down that number isn’t worth pursuing at the moment,” Karissa added. “I suggest you change your telephone number in the meantime.”
Anwar glared at Karissa. She was too straight talking for him to digest. “You’re not taking these threats on my life seriously,” he said. “These idiots were able to somehow get a hold of my number. What’s gonna stop them from finding out my new one? And that video – which was obviously manipulated – is what they are using to blackmail me. How do I stop them from ruining my life with Dallis?”
“So,” Karissa probed, “you’re starting to believe that Gregory might not be behind this fiasco after all? It could be anyone, actually.”
Anwar ignored Karissa and chucked a question at Detective Shelby. “What did you find out about Nancy Covington? I’ve been trying to contact people who were friends with her, but none of them know what happened to her.”
“Well, there might be a very good reason for that,” Richard said. “Coincidentally, she was killed in a car accident, around the early part of this year. We are awaiting a death certificate to be faxed from the hospital –”
Richard’s statement was cut short by the hum of a car engine. Shortly thereafter, the sound of a car door opened and shut. By the time the detectives turned their heads to get a look at what was going on, a black Escalade had accelerated onto the asphalt. Left behind was a slim, attractive, Caucasian female, with a purple Mohawk, strange piercings and body tattoos. She swayed up the driveway as if she’d moved in the Beaufort’s estate a month ago.
“Hello, I’m Della,” she said crisply, but did not stop her strides. She glanced at Anwar, as if meeting him before. Her lips then relaxed into a scandalous smile. “You guys look pretty intense; so I won’t disturb you.”
When Della was out of earshot, Karissa turned a suspicious eye on Anwar. “Who is she?”
Anwar shrugged. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“Well, she was looking at you like you two knew each other.”
“As I’d said, I don’t know her.”
“Are you sure?”
“What the heck is wrong with you?” Anwar snapped. “You’re searching for some weakness in me, aren’t you?”
“She does seem familiar, though,” Richard said, more of a way to quiet the tiff between Karissa and Anwar. “Seems very bold and confident in herself. Reminds me a little of Ms. V who deceived her subjects through the means of sex.”
Anwar didn’t make the connection, but Karissa certainly did. The revelation was: Anwar and Della were having a secret affair and that she was the one blackmailing him. Why else would she walk onto the property as if she owned it? She was holding all of the cards.
Richard cleared his throat. “Well, no use standing here idle. We should take note and follow Miss Della into the house. I’m curious to find out who she is.”
****
“You want cream in your coffee,” Dana asked Dallis, as she banked into the kitchen. “Rose has left to answer the front door.”
“No coffee for me this morning, I’ll be late for an interview.”
“Interview? With who?”
“The director of the Bahamas Swimming Federation.”
“Oh, wow…but you didn’t mention that you had an interview.”
“That’s because Coach Erin called me at the last minute,” Dallis said. She pulled open the refrigerator and reached for two apples. “I’ve been chosen, along with four other swimmers to represent Bliss Haven at the 2016 Olympics.”
Dana came up behind her daughter and congratulated her. “That is awesome news, honey. News we all should take time to celebrate.”
Dallis paused for a second to look at her mother. “It’s definitely something to be cheerful about, considering what this family has been going through, particularly within the last three weeks.”
Dana’s mood turned somber, but the moment was brutally disrupted by Rose’s scolding of Della. Her thick Caribbean accent was loaded with indignation.
“Don’t walk away from me, you devil in disguise!”
“Get a life, Rose!” Della spat. “I have just as much right as you. You don’t own this house!”
Rose tried to keep up with Della, but her stubby legs weren’t carrying her fast enough. “Yuh daddy has no right to leave you here!” she yelled. “It’s too early in the mornin’ for this foolishness! Understand me clearly, little girl, neither Mrs. Beaufort, nor her family have the time to deal with yuh hang ups!”
Dana immediately attempted to quell the drama. “Rose, don’t talk to Della that way. I told Montgomery it was okay to bring her over this morning.”
Miss Rose glared at Dana. “At seven thirty in the mornin’? I don’t think so, boss lady. Send this rude child back home to her father!”
“I am helping Mr. Black take care of his daughter, Rose. What is the matter with you all of a sudden?”
“Listen to me, boss lady. Mr. Black and his daughter mean you no good. No GOOD! They sprung straight from the pit of hell with an agenda to ruin your life. Don’t hold my rudeness against me, but why can’t yuh open yuh eyes and see plainly?”
With a dramatic display of exasperation, Miss Rose threw her hands up in the air and stomped out of the kitchen. Dana’s shock wore off long enough to see the detectives standing a little ways off. But it was quite clear that they’d heard the entire conversation between Della and the maid.
“Mrs. Beaufort,” Richard greeted cordially. “I apologize for the intrusion, but it is imperative that we speak to the entire family. It is about your husband.”
Chapter Twenty Five
With everyone in the Beaufort family, forming a semi-circle around the detectives, the air suddenly became unbreathab
le. Each family member had issues of their own, to which they all would gladly hasten to give their utmost attention. However, Gregory’s disappearance always took precedence – even to the point where it seemed to be taking over their lives at times. While Dana and Dallis were ecstatically hopeful of Gregory’s return, the rest of the family was worn and discouraged.
“The last time we were here, we told you that we were doing everything we possibly could to find Mr. Beaufort. These past three years have been an uphill battle, and especially within recent weeks. Thanks to Dallis, who tipped us off about seeing her father in the back seat of a car, we were able to quickly track down Ms. V and her men and arrest them.” Richard paused as his tone switched to a more solemn timbre.
“You know the Coast Guard was relentless,” he continued, “searching the waters day and night, hoping to bring home some good news. The search was as arduous as it was dangerous, but unfortunately, at 6 p.m. yesterday evening, the chief inspector of police has suspended the search.”
Dana didn’t miss a beat, even though she wanted to lose it right then and there. “For how long?”
“Indefinitely,” Karissa replied. “We are terribly sorry.”
Dana batted Karissa’s remark aside with a powerful outburst. “You’ve got to be kidding! How could you just stop a search like that?”
“Mrs. Beaufort,” Karissa tried. “It is very costly to continue –”
“I don’t want to hear anything about your annual budget,” Dana countered. “Dallis said that she saw Gregory and I believe that he is still out there somewhere, waiting for someone to rescue him. How dare you tell me how costly it is to do what you’re being paid to do?”
The nonchalant way Candi had folded her arms and was chomping down on peppermint gum, made it obvious that she didn’t want to be in the family meeting. She subtly rolled her eyes at her mother and said, “You are being irrational. You can’t expect the police to search for Daddy forever. Their resources are limited. Can’t you understand that?”
