Oscar T was the first to look away. He didn’t mind giving the black woman detective that. After all, he could afford to be humble now and then, here and there. He looked right into Bea Rose’s eyes, she began to fade slowly from sight. Sighing, his mind went immediately into what he knew it was time to do to put all of this to rest with the media. He’d been working to clean his spills here and there, starting with some man on the roof who’d made a fool of himself, tossing money and screaming nonsense. Mr. Eddie Dane, yes, Oscar T. had heard of that as well and that man, was now dead. Problem was, he couldn’t take care of all the others. Those who had claimed that their loved one would never commit suicide.
Because Jeremiah had found them, spoken to them and learned of the startling links between them all. He’d asked to go through all of the victim’s things to find that each one had the following and the same changes.
*The same very expensive bottle of perfume
*A sudden inflow of income along with high living, yet - no job
*Each had a child to care for & pressured by bills
*99.9% looked amazingly like his mother. Same build, height, delicate manner
*1% looked different, she had been his brother’s Ex - Moniqua
*Maxwell stated that he knew she’d been seeing his father behind his back
All of them… lead back to Bea Rose - and Bea Rose, had been having an affair with Oscar T - who was his brother’s father. She’d been fired from Wherrington Manor, and a few weeks later - she’d committed suicide.
She was the trigger. His mother had been the start of his serial killing spree.
Because of all the connections, it was clear that Oscar T had gotten sloppy, and careless.
At first the detectives had repeatedly denied Jeremiah claims, evidence and theory until he finally convinced them that there was too much of a match to be a coincidence. Once he showed them what he’d collected on the 8 women, they’d had to agree and begin digging further back into past unsolved cases. Checking to see just how many reported suicides of black women that their families claimed bogus. It took a while to look back into it, as the wheels of justice is certainly slow. Stunned, they found others - they called in family members, interviewed them concerning these young women, aged between 28 to 32. They were blown away to hear, of the 25 interviewed, 18 more of them were matches! Sudden money, expensive perfume, one child or two, from money problems to sudden high living, fancy clothes, mysterious meetings and secret dates.
They went from having 8 to 26!
They were looking at a serial killer - and the profile matched one Oscar T Wherrington.
Thus, they brought Oscar T in for questioning.
He’d left the police station simmering, plotting and eager to let the games begin.
Two days later, stepping from his home, reporters were all over him, but he was ready for first plan of attack. He knew that soon they would hear and be on him. Yes - time to show them!
Questions came at him rapid fire, and to remove the heat, he began, “This is ludicrous - I’ve done no such thing! My daughter should be ashamed of herself. She’s never forgiven me for my part in the breakup of her first marriage to the artist!”
Confused, the reporters fired more questions, “Your daughter? What has she to do with these charges brought against you for-…”
“My client has been charged with nothing!” His lawyer interrupted.
“None! No charges! As for my daughter - it’s because of her recent involvements with that Jeremiah Franklin. She has a weakness for leech-men! They’re both out to get me. She, because I didn’t want her being taken advantage of by a sleazy, child raping, porn star - passing himself off as a romance novel cover artists!”
The reporters ears perked up and burned for the better story, and began humming and murmuring in loud rapid succession, chorusing out more questions, “Porn star?!” - “Child rapist?!” - “His name?!” One after another they blasted him, “His name, his name?!” - “Who is he?” - “What’s his name?” - “Where is he now?!” - “Where can we find him?!” - “Come on, give it up! Where is he now?”
“Where is he? Fine, check out PenTab publishing, he works for them! His professional name? Everett Styles - however, when my daughter married him, he was Shawn Everett McPherson! Look it up in the porn stores, ‘Chocolate & Vanilla Swirl - Knockin’em Dead Over Some Head’ He had a partner, black man was the chocolate and he was the vanilla. Look it up! While you’re at it, check out his arrest record, yes - that’s right - a child lost her life because of him and that other man! Why, just recently, his own daughter ran away from him - she claimed - that her own father - was touching her inappropriately! Look it up, it’s all out there!” He yelled out just as his lawyer felt that was enough. He nodded his head for the bodyguards to take over and pushed him forward in the sea of flashing lights and more questions yelled at him. They shoved him into his limousine, with doors slamming closed for it to speed off.
The reporters went wild!
The tabloid presses were smoking! The news, Fox and every rag paper in California and nearby reported the incidents and used creative writing to fatten it up and say what hadn’t been said. They did the research. They found all that he claimed was out there and more. Every film he made. They found. They found his dildo, Oscar Delight! The jokes that came out about that, was from hilarious to corny. Many commenting that was the real reason father-in-law and son-in-law hated each other. The porn star had named his impressively large phallus after his wife’s father. Next, people who worked under Mr. Wherrington phoned in anonymously saying that they knew for a fact, what a big walking phallus he was. All joking aside, what Oscar T set out to do, he succeeded in doing. The attention was now, off of him and on Shawn. They found pictures of him, print screens and frozen images from his porn escapades to splash across magazines, in regular news articles and the 9 o’clock news.
In other words, later for Oscar T - after all - he was rich and powerful, there were too many ways for him to wriggle free, besides, they could always come back to him later… but this story? They were all over it.
Headlines like, PORN STAR & CHILD RAPIST - only in America can one be guilty of this, and make it big. The controversy had a rotten effect at the same time a profitable effect.
All of Mercy James novels where he’d done the book covers for them sold like mad - unfortunately, for the wrong reasons.
PenTab Publishing…
The phones were ringing off the hooks - one person after another came rushing into Lowell James office - while he stood watching the news in stunned disbelief - with a much needed drink in hand. For the third time he called over his shoulder, “Grace, have you gotten a hold of my wife yet?” He was trying to remain calm, he took a sip of his drink.
“No sir, not yet - this is her “Chill ‘N’ Frills” day - massage, facial, hair and nails, remember?” She returned, “I think her phone may be off.”
“You need to go there and get her then Grace, tell her-…”
“Who’s going to answer the phones?” She returned, a bit desperate - their day was getting progressively worse.
“Let’em bloody ring - this is an emergency-…”
Before he could finish, she, his wife - Mercy James rushed in out of breath, huffing, blowing and fit to be tied - right away, her voice high pitched and shrill, “Do you know what’s going oh? Have you seen the news? Oh my GOD! Didn’t you vet him?-…” She was obviously panicking.
“What’a’yah mean, vet him? We didn’t hire him to watch the kids! He’s a bloody cover artists - vet why?”
“Ugggh! You know how long it took me to get through those reporters out front? They’re everywhere, all in my face!” She blasted, blown away by the experience. “We’re ruined, I’m ruined-…”
“You’re not ruined - you’re not the bloody porn star, he was! Grace, forget about getting the wife, she’s here!” he stated the obvious, and then, “Get a hold of Everett Styles and tell him it’s time to set up a m
eeting, yesterday!”
“What good is that gonna do now? We’re hit, this is all over us!” Mercy James went on, groaning within, “Porn! Child rape?! Oh my god!” She dropped into a chair, her mind all over the place, imagining the worse, and before Grace could clear the room she called out, “If you can’t get a hold of him, find is son! Benjamin - I pray he knows what’s going on.”
“Honestly dear, you think the blokes gonna share this with his kids? We need to wait to hear from him.”
Grace stopped in the doorway on the way out to get confirmation on which she was doing, noting her they both yelled, “Get Everett, forget Ben!”
She took off to try and reach him. Standing clear to let her pass was their PR, Isaiah Berk, he kept up with all the goings ons of PenTab publishing, “If it’s any consolation to you Mercy, as of 20 minutes ago your trilogy became a number one bestseller - so there is a silver lining after all - controversy is always a good thing.” He offered for hope.
The look on her face was not what he’d hoped for, “Are you kidding me? Silver-lining my rear - I want my stuff selling out because the readers have gone wild, not because the artist who did the cover is now infamous for porn and child abuse! Get out’ah here talkin’ crazy!” She blazed, too hot for words.
“How about we all just stay calm, see where this takes us?” Isaiah tried again.
Mercy shot around in the chair to glare at her husband for help, that he might intervene before she really lost it.
“Leave us, leave us.” He ordered their PR. Walking to his bar, he made his wife a double lemon drop martini, one of her favorite unwind drinks. Today, was a perfect example of why it was needed. By the time he finished it, made his way to the chair she occupied, she was slumped back in the circular comfy, cushioned chair, her hand covering her face.
“Here, this will help.”
Her eyes rolled up to her husband - taking the drink she downed it. Caught off guard because it was a double, she sat up coughing and choking. Worried, he pounded her back, laughing, “Sip it silly cow.” As soon as she got her breath back and could speak she handed him the empty glass, “Another, just like - that one." She coughed more.
He laughed in the face of the situation they found themselves in, “Uh oh, that’s not a good sign.” He made her another double and delivered it, watching as she slowly sipped the second one, obviously thinking about what was happening. “What are we going to do Mr. Law?” her worry was clear.
“Face it, like we do everything else. Let’s not jump to any conclusions. We’re not going to panic, we’re going to let him explain himself before we set fire to PenTab. He’s not the only man who regrets his past.”
“Child - rape!” She repeated her greatest fear.
“I don’t believe it. He’s not the type.”
“What about surrounding his own daughter?” she grimaced, “This is sooo ugly, oh my goodness.”
“I don’t believe that either. I’m a good judge of character. It’s not in him.”
She glared at her husband in disbelief, “Oh, I guess he didn’t do the porn either then, huh? Or that Oscar Delight isn’t him either is it?” She grumbled sarcastically.
Lowell actually grimaced, and thinking about it grinned, “Emmm, would it be the end of the world if he did the latter? Really dear? I thought you liked him?”
She shot up too fast, staggered a bit because the drinks had already reached the brain, taking a deep breath to regroup, she admitted, “I don’t really care about the porn if it’s in his past. Let’s face it, your own past is just short of that-…”
“Aye-up, leave me and my past out of it, let’s just focus on him please.” He was quick to derail any thoughts or connections to him surrounding this, that’s the last place he wanted this to go.
If looks could kill, the look she tossed over her should at him would have buried him, “Em hm, anyway - we can live with the Oscar thing, and the porn long as it’s past, but the rest… oh no, too heavy. I don’t care what I thought about him. How good he is, or how I may have liked him - if that child stuff and daughter stuff is true… his problems have only just begun - you can believe that. So, uh, forget the getting him on the phone, he needs to get here, now - to explain himself. Otherwise, he can kiss this job goodbye. So call him and do whatever needs to be done to get him here yesterday. From now on, no more hiring on folks referred to you by family.”
“I’m glad you brought Merriam up, there is no way my cousin, Merriam Styles would have referred him to us if he wasn’t trustworthy, rest her soul.”
“I hope you’re right. Oh my goodness, I would hate to be his wife right now. Poor thing, she’s still pregnant, imagine being in her shoes if it’s all true.”
“It’s not… you’ll see. Let’s give him a chance, remember, this is the land of innocent until proven guilty.” Lowell reminded her.
“Yeah right, you can believe that nonsense if you want to, but we both know that is not so. If the media believes you guilty and marks you guilty, you are - because this world is filled with people that believe that nonsense - if the media says it, it must be so.”
“Yeah, the way you’ve hung him is a perfect example of that.” Lowell pointed out with the lift of his brow and drink to sip.
“I haven’t hung him yet! I want to believe it’s not so - but it is what it is, and unfortunately, it is all over the news! Ugh!”
Across town…
Ben stood in a Best Buy in the midst of others, watching in disbelief what he was seeing. He stood with both hands on top of his head wishing he had hair long enough to grip and pull. He’d come to pick up various needs because it was going to be a busy day. The weather was brilliant - he’d planned to spend the day in the field taking incredible nature shots for backgrounds. He’d been passing the various flat screen TVs only to have over thirty of them project a frozen image of his father at him. The footage was of a younger Shawn - their resemblance was uncanny. Difference, the picture they showed of his father was from the 80’s and he’d had much longer hair, to his shoulders. That wasn’t the problem really, but what was - the news report.
“Nooo - nooo - nooo - that’s my father - nooo you-…” Ben felt his heart leave his chest and lodge in his throat as he watched Oscar T dodge reporters after destroying the man he’d hero worshiped all of his young life. “You bastard! You’re going to hell for this - even if I have to send you there myself!” He bit out, leaving the cart he’d been using with the people who were still watching the newsflash. He rushed out of Best Buy with is mobile in hand trying to reach Deidre. Her phone – however, was engaged - no surprises why there. Getting into the white Mercedes she’d given him - he sat with his guts tied in knots - his mind going home to Wisconsin and wondering had his family seen the news yet? He thought about Shawn - his father - and what this would do to him. He would be absolutely ruined. His mind then went to PenTab - Ben started his car and took off trying not to speed. Soon as he arrived, he was hit with the enormity of the situation, reporters - the paparazzi was there blocking the entrance. He had to fight his way through them. A couple recognized his features and that he looked too much like Shawn for it to be a coincidence.
“Your name sir? What’s your name?”
“Are you family to Everett Styles - a son maybe?”
“Sir… sir… just a few questions.”
“What do you think about the claims of child molestation?”
“Is he your father?”
“Is your father a pedophile? Has he bothered your little sister-…”
He attacked! Ben was all over the reporter, his punches flying fast and hard. Soon he felt hands grabbing at him, his name being yelled out. Lowell, Isaiah their PR and two of their security on duty struggled to pull him off and get him into the office. It was madness with pictures taken from start to finish. Instantly, the incident was on the news as a breaking story. While in PenTab, Lowell and Marcy James worked to calm Ben.
“Did you hear what they were asking me?!”
He raged, “They didn’t even know who I was, I mean - they just assumed that I knew him, was related to him! Something has got to be done! Shouldn’t that be against the law? How can they just take one man’s word and take part in slandering someone with something so dangerous as as as - GOD! Tell me this is not happening?!”
“Ben, I’m so sorry - it is happening, and well - there are things I need to know, to be sure of what we have to do?”
Lowell brought Ben a drink - when Mercy shook her head blocking it, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“No… I’m good, I’m good - I’m driving - and I’m not staying here.” Ben lifted a bruised and bloody hand to ward off the offer.
“Look at your hand, oh my goodness.” Mercy cried out, leaving him for the moment, she went and collected the first aid kit while Lowell took a seat next to him.
“Come on mate - we know this is upsetting, but we need to sort this out, know where we stand, on his side or not?” Lowell asked.
Right away Ben began shaking his head, “No way! I’m telling you now my father is not a fu-…”
Mercy was back, on her knees before him, cutting him off, “First, I want you to take a deep breath and calm yourself down. Give me that hand - you got a mean punch on you boy. That’ll be a lawsuit.”
“I don’t care! Let’em take me to court! They’ve gone too far! My father would never do the things they’re saying about him, no way! No - way! That Oscar T is too low to even compare to a worm - maybe the worm’s slime! I don’t know why he’s done this, but there’s something else going on and he’s turned the tables and dragged my father out to lynch him!”
“So you’re positive, he never touched your sister - he-…”
“NO! No no no no no! Do you hear me? My father would never - ever - harm a child! A little girl?! My little sister?! NO!” Ben was so angry tears rushed to his eyes. He balled his other fist and pushed back in the chair he occupied trying to breathe.
“Okay okay - let me take care of this and you just calm down.”
Beauty of Man and Woman - Volume 13: Bomaw Page 34
