Lady Elect

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “I was screaming his name.”

  Lance exhaled. “What name, Cheeks?” He was losing patience.

  Detective Rogers looked at him. “Mr. Howell, please. Don’t make me ask you to leave the room.”

  Lance nodded his head. He understood that he couldn’t put words in Arykah’s mouth.

  He folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to say exactly what he and Detective Rogers needed her to say.

  “Arykah, what name did you call out when you were screaming for your husband?”

  “I was screaming ‘Lance.’ I was calling for Lance to come and save me.”

  Detective Rogers looked at Lance again. “Not a word.”

  He stood motionless.

  “Arykah,” Detective Rogers said. “You didn’t scream ‘babe,’ or ‘honey,’ or ‘my love’?”

  Arykah looked at Detective Rogers like she was nuts. “What kind of question is that, Detective? Why would I call out any of those names? My husband wasn’t making love to me. I was being raped by a stranger.”

  “I know that, Arykah. And the reason I asked you what name you called out is because you stated that when you called out Lance’s name, the rapist told you that the bishop couldn’t save you.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Arykah said. She wasn’t putting two and two together.

  Lance could no longer keep quiet. “How did the rapist know that I was a bishop?” he blurted out to Arykah.

  Detective Rogers scowled at Lance, but she didn’t say anything to him. “Whoever raped you, Arykah, knows you personally. Or he has ties to someone else who knows you personally.”

  Chapter 18

  When Arykah awakened from her nap on Thursday afternoon, she walked into her kitchen and found Myrtle standing at the stove making her famous homemade chicken noodle soup. Earlier that morning, Arykah’s doctor had released her from the hospital with plenty of medication and strict instructions. She was not to overextend herself in any way, and she was ordered to get plenty of rest.

  “Hey, Sugar Plum,” Myrtle greeted Arykah by carefully giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Myrtle knew that Arykah’s ribs were broken, and she didn’t want to squeeze her too tightly. “Are you hungry?”

  With Myrtle’s help, Arykah slowly walked to the kitchen table and sat down. “I didn’t know you were here, Momma Cortland. Where’s Lance? I remembered him lying down with me when we got home from the hospital this morning.”

  “Lance called me and said that you were sleeping. He asked if I could come and sit with you because he had some business to tend to. He sent a cab for me. He must’ve been in a hurry because as soon as my cab got here, the bishop was already backing out of the driveway.”

  “Really?” Arykah asked. She wondered what Lance was up to. That morning at the hospital, he told her that he would be taking a month off from the construction company. And he assigned Minister Weeks to conduct Bible class on Tuesday nights, but Lance would still take charge of his pulpit on Sunday mornings.

  “He told me to reach him on his cellular telephone if I needed him, and he also told me to not let you out of my sight.” Myrtle went back to the stove.

  “He didn’t say where he was going?” Arykah asked.

  “Nope. And I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my place.”

  Arykah looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost two P.M. “And he’s been gone since this morning?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thanks for coming in, Mr. Howell. How’s Arykah doing? She was released from the hospital this morning, right?” Detective Rogers shook Lance’s hand and invited him to sit in a chair. They were in a small office at the rear of the Burr Ridge Police Department.

  “Arykah’s getting better by the day, Detective. Thanks for asking. Yes, she’s home resting.” Lance was curious why Detective Rogers had called and asked him to meet her at the police station.

  “That’s good,” she stated. “Please let her know that I’m thinking of her.”

  “I certainly will,” Lance responded.

  Detective Rogers sat in a chair next to Lance with a remote control in her hand. “Well, I called you in to take a look at the surveillance tape that I confiscated from the security booth at the entrance gate of your complex.” She pointed the remote control to a flat-screen high-definition television that was mounted on the wall in the office. As she pressed the play button, she said, “Check this out. This surveillance is from the morning of Arykah’s attack. I think you’ll find it quite interesting. Pay attention to the time of day it was on the bottom right-hand side.”

  Lance couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw a bald black man walk right past the guard and into his complex at 8:27 A.M. Monday morning. “What the heck? Who is that guy, and where was the guard?”

  “I interviewed a guy named Dwight Alexander, the guard that was on duty that morning.”

  “Yeah, I know Dwight.”

  “He said that someone in a car had driven up on the street, just outside the entrance of the complex, and asked him for directions. Dwight claimed that he left the booth, unattended, for about two minutes to give the person directions. I figured that was the moment this bald guy slipped passed Dwight without being noticed.”

  “Do you think the person that asked for directions was an accomplice?”

  Detective Rogers shook her head from side to side. “No. Not at all. Dwight said the person asking for directions was an Asian lady with a screaming infant strapped in a car seat in the backseat of her vehicle. I believe the guy had been lurking around the security gate waiting for an opportunity to get past the guard’s booth undetected. It was just perfect timing when the Asian lady drove up to distract Dwight.” Detective Rogers pressed the rewind button on the remote control. “Take another look at this guy walking into your complex. After he passed the booth, he looked over his shoulder to make sure that he hadn’t been seen. The camera mounted on the roof of the booth captured a good view of his face.”

  Lance leaned forward in his chair and looked closely at the man’s face. He appeared to be about six foot two. He wore a short black leather jacket with dark pants and dark shoes. Both of his hands were in his jacket pockets, and his pace was quick.

  “Do you recognize him at all?” Detective Rogers asked Lance.

  “No. I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve never seen him in your complex before? Maybe visiting a neighbor.”

  “Nope.”

  “What about church? Have you ever seen this guy at church?”

  There were close to 500 members at Freedom Temple. While the women certainly outnumbered the men every Sunday, Lance couldn’t place the man’s face at church. “Not that I can recall.”

  Detective Rogers pressed the power button on the remote control and stood from her chair. “I’m expecting a call from the forensic scientist sometime today. Hopefully the fingerprints lifted from your doorbell will come back with a positive identification.”

  “And what if there are no matches? Then what?”

  Detective Rogers saw the concern on Lance’s face. “We’ll get him, Mr. Howell. This is personal for me.”

  Lance cocked his head to the side. “Really? How so?”

  The detective exhaled. “I’m a rape victim too. I was fourteen years old coming home from a friend’s house trying to beat my curfew. I took a shortcut and walked through the alley behind my house. A guy jumped out from nowhere and grabbed me.”

  “My Lord,” Lance said.

  “He was never caught. That’s why I’m making Arykah’s case my priority. I’m determined to get justice for her and any other woman that predator may have attacked.”

  Lance was pleased to know that Detective Rogers was in his wife’s corner. She wasn’t just putting time in to receive a paycheck; she was passionate about the case. “I appreciate that, Detective.”

  “Please call me Cortney.”

  Lance smiled. “Okay, Cortney. And you can call me Lance.”

 
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear about the fingerprints.”

  As soon as Lance stepped outside of the police department, his cellular telephone rang. He saw his home number flashing on the caller identification. Immediately his heart started to race. “What’s wrong, Mother Cortland?” he asked in a panic.

  “Hi, babe. It’s me.”

  “Cheeks, are you okay?”

  Lance was riled up. Arykah feared that every time he left her presence he’d constantly worry about her. “Yes, I’m fine. Momma Cortland is here cooking up a storm. She’s got a pot of chicken noodle soup on the stove. She found your Cornish hen in the freezer. It’s in the oven with a pan of macaroni and cheese. Right now she’s making her famous pineapple upside-down cake. Momma Cortland is giving you a run for your money, babe.”

  Lance chuckled. “Is that right?” Earlier that morning when he called and asked Myrtle to come and sit with Arykah, she told Lance that she’d be more than happy to help out in any way she could. Myrtle told Lance that she wanted to make chicken noodle soup for Arykah but hearing about the hen, macaroni and cheese, and cake was a pleasant surprise for him.

  “Yep. You better get back here and claim our title.”

  “I’ll be home shortly.”

  “Where are you? You slipped out on me.”

  “I’m at the police station. I just reviewed the surveillance tape from Monday morning. Detective Rogers and I saw a bald black guy walk right past Dwight at about eight-thirty in the morning.”

  “It could be him, Lance. The guy that raped me was a dark bald guy.”

  “The camera got a good picture of his face, but I didn’t recognize him.”

  “I wanna see the tape.” Arykah didn’t get a good look of the guy during her attack, but she knew he was dark and bald.

  “I definitely think you should review the tape. I didn’t recognize him, but maybe you will. However, your doctor has you on lockdown for now. Maybe in a week or two; when you’re stronger.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Hopefully the fingerprints lifted from the doorbell will find a match, but only if the guy has a criminal record.”

  “But what happens if he doesn’t have a record? Will he just get away with what he did to me?” Arykah was worried that her attacker would never be caught.

  “Cheeks, don’t worry. We’ll get him. I promise.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts.’” Lance refused to allow her to become discouraged. “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

  Arykah couldn’t think of one. “No.”

  “And I won’t start breaking any now. I’m on my way home. Can I bring you anything?”

  “Yes, you can.” Arykah perked up. “A pint of Chunky Monkey to go with Mother Cortland’s pineapple upside-down cake.”

  At 7:30 that evening, Lance opened the front door for Monique and Adonis.

  “Welcome, folks. Come on in.”

  “What’s happening, Bishop?” Monique stepped inside the foyer and kissed Lance on his cheek.

  “All is well. All is well.”

  Adonis followed Monique inside. “Evening. I heard there was food here.”

  Lance chuckled. “Well, you came to the right place if you’re hungry. Mother Cortland has been cooking all day.” He noticed that Adonis was carrying a small black duffle bag on his shoulder. “That’s the smallest duffle bag I’ve ever seen.”

  Monique brought her forefinger to her lips to quiet Lance. “Shh. It’s a gift for Arykah.”

  “You bought her a miniature duffle bag? One pair of Arykah’s earrings won’t even fit in that thing.”

  “There’s already something in the duffle bag,” Adonis smiled.

  Lance shut the front door, double bolted it, then looked outside through the glass. He was looking to see if anyone was lurking around in the shadows of the bushes. Until Arykah’s attacker was caught and jailed, he wouldn’t rest.

  “What are you looking at?” Adonis asked.

  “Nothing.” Lance turned away from the door and led his friends into the living room where Arykah was sitting on the sofa.

  “Hey, doll,” Monique greeted her best friend. “Look at you sitting pretty.” Monique sat next to Arykah, leaned over, and kissed her cheek.

  “Not you too. Everyone is a liar these days.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Lance telling me that I’m beautiful and gorgeous. And you coming in here saying that I’m pretty. You are all liars.”

  “No one is lying,” Adonis said, sitting on the sofa opposite of Arykah and Monique. “You are beautiful and pretty and gorgeous.” He set the small duffle bag on the floor next to his leg.

  “Preach, brother, preach,” Lance encouraged Adonis.

  “Well, if that’s the truth, Adonis, why does my mirror show that I look like the elephant woman?” Arykah was self-conscious of her still swollen right eye. Her nose was off center, and the stitches in her top lip hadn’t yet dissolved. The black, purple, and blue bruises on her face were a constant reminder of her attack just three days before.

  “You need to return that mirror from wherever you bought it and get a refund because it’s lying to you.”

  Arykah looked from Adonis to Monique. “Please take your husband to an optometrist. Obviously, he needs glasses.”

  Monique chose to ignore Arykah’s comment. Evidently Arykah was looking to have a pity party, but Monique was not going to indulge her friend. She and Adonis stopped by to cheer her up and take her mind away from the event that happened on Monday. “Um, we bought you a gift.”

  Adonis picked up the duffle bag and gave it to Monique. Monique set the bag on Arykah’s lap.

  Receiving gifts always cheered Arykah up. She slightly smiled. “Ooh, gifts. I like gifts.” She unzipped the duffle bag and was surprised to see a little Yorkshire terrier pop its head out of the bag. “Oh, how cute,” Arykah cooed.

  “It’s a Teacup Yorkiepoo,” Adonis said.

  “A Yorkshire terrier mixed with a poodle. And it’s called a teacup because it’s the size of a teacup. She won’t get much bigger than that,” Monique confirmed.

  “We wanted to get you something to keep you company while you recuperated,” Adonis said.

  “I love it, Adonis,” Arykah pulled the teeny puppy from the duffle bag. “Oh my God. She’s adorable.”

  Lance shook his head from side to side. “That’s all I need right now. Another diva in this house.”

  Arykah chuckled. “You got that right, honey. I’m big diva, and she’s li’l diva.”

  Arykah gasped. “Lance, you just named her. We’re gonna call her ‘Diva.’”

  Lance came to Arykah and scooped the puppy up in the palm of his hand. “Diva, huh? Knowing you, I thought you would’ve named her Gucci, or Prada, or after some type of designer.”

  “Well, she does need a middle name,” Monique said.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Adonis pleaded.

  Lance gave the dark brown and black miniature fur ball back to Arykah.

  “Hmm, let’s see.” Arykah thought of a middle name. “How about Diva Chanel Howell?”

  “Arykah, can you get more snooty?” Lance asked.

  “Oh, Bishop, you ain’t seen snooty yet.” Arykah brought the puppy to her face and kissed her teeny, black, wet nose. “Wait until me and Diva Chanel show up at church with matching dresses, hats, and bling.” Arykah tickled Diva’s belly. “You’re my little diva. Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”

  “Thanks a lot guys. That was the perfect gift,” Lance said sarcastically. Arykah was already a force to reckon with but with a mini-me in tow, Lance knew she was going to get out of control.

  “Bishop, we gotta go shopping,” Arykah stated.

  “For what?”

  “It’s cold outside. Diva Chanel needs a fur coat.”

  Lance looked at Monique and Adonis. “See what y’all did?”

  Arykah gave the puppy to Monique. “I can’t bend
over just yet. Can you put Diva on the floor?”

  Monique gently set the puppy on the floor. “We bought food and puppy training pads too.” She looked at Adonis. “Babe, can you please get the puppy’s other bag from the car? I wanna put a few of the training pads down before Miss Diva has an accident on the new carpet.”

  Adonis rose from the sofa to honor Monique’s request.

  “By the way,” Arykah said to Monique, “Lance told me that you took off from work yesterday to come here while the new carpet was being installed. I appreciate that. Lance said there was a lot of blood, and I don’t know how I would’ve reacted had I walked in and saw it.”

  “It was no problem. Lance didn’t wanna leave your side at the hospital, and neither of us wanted you to come home and see the stained carpet. That’s what sisters do.”

  Adonis returned with the puppy’s food and training pads. Monique placed four pads on the floor by the cocktail table. Diva wasted no time squatting on one.

  “That’s a good girl,” Arykah said to her. “Now I’m supposed to give her a treat, right?”

  “We got treats too,” Adonis said, reaching in the bag he brought in from the car. He pulled out a small white chewable treat and gave it to Diva. “These are yogurt bites. The veterinarian said that puppies love them, and they train well with these.”

  “Well, now that Diva has her treat, can I have mine?” Monique asked Arykah. “I know Mother Cortland got down in your kitchen today. And where is Mother Cortland anyway?”

  “She’s upstairs resting,” Lance answered.

  Arykah struggled to rise from the sofa. She held her side and winced at every move she made. Lance was quick to assist her.

  “Let’s eat. I’m starved,” Arykah said. “Hospital food is nasty.”

  Lance helped Arykah to the kitchen table and asked if she wanted a bowl of the chicken noodle soup Mother Cortland had made especially for her. Mother Cortland knew that Arykah was missing two teeth and her lip had been busted. She wanted to make Arykah a dish that would be easy on her mouth.

  “Heck, no, I don’t want any soup. I want the Cornish hen with mac and cheese.”