by Dijorn Moss
I motion to the waterfall. I start to unwrap the blanket and lay it down over the dirt ground. I didn’t have a clue about what I was doing.
“And what did you think about with me?” Victory asks.
“I wonder what you would think of this place. I wonder if I would ever get a chance to share this spot with you.”
“Well, my coworkers think that I’m crazy for flying out here on the whim.”
“A leap of faith like you said,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s what I told them. They are living vicariously through me. They expect to hear stories of romance and adventure when I get back.”
More like tales of murder, mayhem, a drug dealer, and coconut cake.
Victory sits down on the blanket, and I take a seat next to her. We share mangos, papaya, and other fruits I packed away for the trip, along with water and some fresh Bahamian Johnny bread that Adele baked. For a long time we eat in silence and enjoy the view and the sound the birds made as they fly across the water. The moment was not without annoyance. Some of the bugs decide to buzz around my ear and use it for target practice, and I would occasionally have to swipe them away.
“So when do you plan to go back?” Victory asks.
“I don’t know. I try not to think about going back.”
“You know that there’s this holiday coming up called Christmas. It’s kind of a big deal in the church and the States.”
Aside from the obvious that Christmas is a day the church decides to recognize the birth of Christ, Christmas carries very little value to me. It’s too commercialized, too materialistic, and I have no tolerance for my Lord and Savior’s day being reduced to Macy’s sales and Black Friday deals.
“I hear the islands are beautiful around this time of the year. I thought about staying.”
“I can imagine that these islanders would probably have a ball. Plus, who can resist the weather?”
“I don’t know. Things are a lot simpler out here than back in the States,” I say, with the exception of the fact that there is a murderer running between these two islands. Of course, I probably would be bored right now if it wasn’t for the murder and Victory’s surprise arrival.
“Well, my home would love to have you visit for the holiday.”
Aside from the island, Victory’s home is one of the few places I would rather be. Both places have given me a sense of family and connection. That means a lot to a loner like me.
“What’s that over there?” Victory points to a small shack that is adjacent to the waterfall.
It was a shack that barely holds together, but considering the picturesque view that surrounds the hut, one would inquire as to the home’s origins.
“There is a legend Sammy told about surrounding this house.” I reach into a basket and grab a piece of bread. I break it in half and hand half to Victory. “The legend has it that during slavery, there was a ship that docked on this island. The slaves on the ship had an uprising, but were quickly dealt with; however, one slave managed to escape in the jungle. The owners searched for him for days and couldn’t find him. Finally, they had to count their losses and sail on.”
I point to the house. “That is supposedly the house that he built and lived in for the remainder of his days.”
“Wow! Powerful. I’m surprised the hurricanes haven’t destroyed it,” Victory says.
“They have, but someone always manages to rebuild it. I guess it serves as a reminder that one can always change their fate.”
“That’s a lesson that still teaches us to this day,” Victory says.
“Amen to that,” I say.
“Amen,” Victory says.
Amen indeed. Maybe I can change my fate as well. Become someone different, aspire to a higher calling.
Chapter Ten
All roads lead to Randall Knott. It’s a no-brainer at this point, but before I can make a case for why one of the wealthiest men in the world would kill Pastor Cole, I have to establish a why. Why would Knott want to kill Cole? He has both the money and the influence, but there is one connection that Knott money and power hasn’t reached, at least I don’t think he has reached her.
Once again, I find myself outside of Elisha’s house in spite of the fact that I was just warned by Demetrius to never go over to her place again. Of course, I’ve never been one to listen to authority, and if a conversation with Elisha can put this whole case to bed, then it’s worth the risk. Plus, I have her $2 million check waiting for her.
“I hope you have good news for me,” Elisha says after she opens the door and leaves it open for me to enter.
I close the door behind me to make sure we are alone. Discretion is still key; plus, I am suspicious that my moves are being watched, though I don’t know who is watching me.
“You mean this?” I reach into my pocket and reveal an envelope that Pastor Bryant gave me. “Yes, but that’s not all I have.”
“Are you leaving, because that would be a great idea?”
I chuckle and wish that all I have to do is deliver a check filled with zeros. But I have another pressing matter to consider.
“I believe you have something to give to me,” I say.
“I’ll be right back.” Elisha gets up and goes into her bedroom. Moments later, she comes back with an envelope of her own and hands it to me.
“Tell your preacher friend he needs to be more careful.”
I take a look inside, and sure enough, these are photographs of Pastor Bryant in a precarious situation. “How did you come up with these?”
“My girlfriend was at the party they threw after the first night of the conference. She thought that it would be funny. Not to worry though. I had her send the pictures to my phone, and then delete them out of her phone.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for it that these are the only pictures floating around?” I ask.
“Why would you not believe me?”
“Your father was murdered, and I have yet to see you shed either a single tear or a concern about your safety. Now, I’m wondering why that is.”
“How do you know that I don’t cry?” Elisha asks with all of her feistiness.
“I don’t know, but I doubt many know what you do behind closed doors.”
“What I do behind closed doors would make you blush, Preacher.” Elisha smiles and raises one eyebrow.
“I doubt it.” I give her my own raised eyebrow.
“Well, ain’t you full of surprises,” she laughs.
“So did any of your father’s words of wisdom rub off on you?”
Elisha picks up the check and examines it. She then shakes her head. “Not really. It’s hard to listen to a man talk about God who wants your identity kept a secret.”
“Your father obviously wasn’t perfect. He was just trying to point you in the direction to someone who is.”
“You’re defending him now? You expressed that you didn’t care too much for my father. Why the sudden change?”
“We had fundamental differences, as I said before, but nothing malicious. I just couldn’t buy into his brand of doctrine.”
“Well, many people shared the same feelings you had toward my father, and more. Some would even send death threats,” Elisha says.
“Death threats? He told you about them?”
A clearer picture is starting to come into view between Pastor Cole and Elisha. I reckon every man needs one woman to be vulnerable to in his life. It might as well be a daughter that the majority of the world doesn’t even know about, who just so happens to live on a small island.
“My father believed in never letting your enemies see you bleed. ‘You save your tears and your fears for when you’re in private, Elisha.’ That’s what he used to say.”
Elisha fights back the tears and lets out a smile instead. Even now, she doesn’t want to disappoint her father.
“I now know why you haven’t cried before me.”
Elisha picks up the check again in disbelief. One minute you are a bastard
child that only a few people know about; the next minute you’re a millionaire.
“Are you afraid to be walking around with that kind of money?” I ask.
“Like I said, no one is stupid enough to try something.”
“Is it because of your affiliation with the local crime lord?”
Elisha is amused by my statement and knows who I am referring to. I just hope that Demetrius doesn’t decide to pay me a visit after this meeting.
“You know a little too much to be a foreigner.”
“You hang around with dangerous men.”
“All men are dangerous, Mr. Dungy, especially a man who fancies himself as a preacher.”
I detect a hint of seduction in Elisha’s voice. She certainly was not daddy’s little girl. This is why I came over here, because whether Elisha is a major player in this game remains to be seen, but I know that she knows more than she let on.
“I would love to hear this story,” I say.
“It’s not a very interesting one. It’s just a classic tale of a good girl who’s attracted to bad boys.”
“I take it your father didn’t approve?”
“My father didn’t want to get in a disapproval contest.”
I guess she’s right. Pastor Cole has a lot more skeletons in his closet than his apparent daughter. One of those skeletons led to his demise.
“You need to be careful around men like Demetrius. He seems to be very protective of you, and that usually means that he’s also controlling.”
Elisha lets out a laugh like I had just made a joke. The arrogance of youth. I can never understand it.
“You laugh, but I bet Demetrius doesn’t know about your newfound wealth.”
“Of course not. He and I may have fun, but that doesn’t mean I trust him,” Elisha says.
“From what I’ve seen, Demetrius strikes me as a person who gets what he wants,” I say.
“Demetrius may control a lot of people, but I’m not one of them.”
“Does he know that?”
“You’re a lot more fun today.”
“Oh, I’m a blast to be around, but what I’m curious about is what your father had to do with Randall Knott.”
“How would I know?”
“You seem to be pretty good about keeping secrets.”
Elisha leans back on the couch and analyzes the check she just received. She can start a new life anywhere with that money.
“My father told me a lot of things; some things I am even embarrassed to repeat, but about Randall Knott, he didn’t tell me anything.”
“He didn’t tell you anything at all? Not even on his last visit?” I find that strange.
Elisha tosses the check onto her coffee table as if it was a random bill and not a check worth $2 million.
“He did say how this would be the last time he would come to the conference. He wanted to make other arrangements to see me. But he didn’t specify why.”
It’s not much, but Elisha’s information is enough for me to know that I am at least heading in the right direction. Whatever business dealings Cole had with Knott, they must’ve fractured during this conference.
“You might want to ask Bishop Jackson,” Elisha says.
“And why would I want to ask Bishop Jackson?”
“Because he and my father were thick as thieves.”
I didn’t even know Bishop Jackson is on the island. I didn’t see him the other day. More importantly, I didn’t even know that Pastor Cole and Bishop Jackson ran together, and I know just about every piece of church news and gossip.
“I thought your father and Pastor Bryant were close, seeing that Pastor Bryant just wrote you a rather large check.”
“On the surface, yes, they were, but when it comes to doing dirt and someone who you can trust, that would be Bishop Jackson. That’s who you would want to talk to.”
I now know who the next person is that I will visit. I have to pay Pastor Jackson a visit and break this case wide open. I get up and head toward the door, but I stop right before I open it.
“One last question,” I say.
“Yes, Mr. Preacher Man, what is it?”
“What now? You can go anywhere you want in the world.”
“Do all Americans hate their current lives so much that they have to leave them as soon as they get money?”
“No, but with that money, you do have more options than before.”
Elisha turns her head and appears to stare off into space. My question must have given her a chance to consider things that she has never considered before.
“How’s Paris this time of the year?” Elisha asks.
“Cold, but it’s still Paris.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I grow tired of the warm weather,” she says.
I smile and shake my head as I leave. If Elisha knows what’s best for her, she would book a flight right away because things are about to heat up around here.
Chapter Eleven
It’s around one o’clock in the morning when the phone rings, and it brings me out of my sleep. It takes a moment for my heart rate to settle down. I’ve been on edge a lot lately. I hope my cell hasn’t woken up anyone else in the house. I take a look at the caller ID screen. It’s Paul.
“What’s up?” I say still half-asleep.
“Well, you called me needing information on Bishop Jackson, and I got something for you.”
Information on the island is scarce, and I’m not at home where I have access to all of my resources. I need Paul to get as much info as possible on Bishop Jackson. I have never had him as a client, but Bishop Jackson is notorious for saying things that are not pulpit appropriate.
“What do you have for me?”
“Not much that didn’t make it to the papers. I’ll e-mail you what I got. You can do with it whatever you want,” Paul says.
I’m thankful that Adele has Internet service, though it moves at a horse-and-buggy pace. I’ll suffer through the service tomorrow as I print out Paul’s e-mail.
“What else you got because you wouldn’t call me unless you got something for me?”
“What do you know about Knott Corp. operations in Miami?” Paul asks.
“Very little, why?”
“Well, some unconfirmed sources say that Knott Corp. has taken some interest in the Bahamas, and they are seeking to purchase.”
That is interesting news to find out, though not surprising. I know Knott has a vested interest in the Bahamas, but I’m not sure of what or why.
I get up and walk out onto the terrace where my room is located. There’s a table there, and on it is my pack of cigarettes and my lighter. I light my cigarette and release a smoke trail into the air.
“I’m spit balling here, but there may be a connection between Knott business dealings and Pastor Cole.”
“You may be right.”
I already knew this, but there may be something more that Pastor Cole was entangled in with Knott.
“Who are you talking to?”
I turn around and see Victory standing in the doorway.
“Let me call you back,” I say to Paul.
“Please don’t,” Paul says sarcastically, and then hangs up the phone.
I hang up the phone and put out my cigarette. “I was talking to a friend.”
“You smoke?” Victory asks.
I take a look at the cigarette that I just put out. I don’t really have anything to say. “Occasionally.”
“Nic, we need to have a real honest conversation.”
Victory walks in and has a seat on the miniature couch. I have a feeling that I’m not going to like this conversation, but this is a conversation that I can’t avoid.
“What is going on with you?” she asks.
“I’m sorry about the smoking. I enjoy an occasional cigarette every now and then.”
Victory starts to shake her head. “I don’t even know if I believe a word that you are saying right now. Do you drink?”
Now I know how my
clients feel. Victory’s line of questioning is making me feel uncomfortable. I want to tell the truth, but the truth is ugly, and I would prefer to tell Victory a beautiful lie.
“I’ve struggled with drinking. It’s not something I’m proud of,” I say.
Victory gets up and begins to pace the floor. “Lord Jesus. This always happens to me.”
I don’t know much about Victory’s past. We have only scratched the surface with each other, but at this moment, both of our pasts are starting to rise up.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t? You weren’t going to tell me?”
“No.”
Victory puts her hands on her head unable to fathom the words that I’m saying to her right now.
“I was hoping that you would never have to see this, that I would have been delivered and spare you any pain.”
“Am I that superficial? Do you think I can only handle certain parts of you?” Victory asks.
“Most people can’t.”
“I consider myself a patient woman. I’m neither insecure nor jealous. I know my worth and my value, but the one thing I can’t handle is being lied to.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” I say.
“I’ve had my dark moments as well, and I know about addictions.”
“I’m sorry, I know this hasn’t been the trip you had in mind but—”
Victory gives me a dismissive wave. She is through with the excuses and the lies. I can’t blame her.
“Aside from the drinking and smoking, you have been in and out late at night and meeting with people who you can’t talk about, which is amazing because from what I gather, this is your first time even visiting Crystal Cove. So I want you to be truthful, and I swear I can handle it. Who have you been seeing?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nic, we’re not exclusive. I don’t know what we are, but now is the time to be honest and straightforward with me about what you are doing.”
I can see how my dealing with Elisha and my late-night meeting with Demetrius can create a narrative that there’s someone else who I’m seeing, but there isn’t. All there is Victory. But what do I tell her? Do I tell her that I’m a church fixer, and the reason why I was in Sacramento a month ago was because her pastor’s husband was missing? Do I tell her that a good portion of the pastors she respects and admires are former clients? Am I violating my clients’ confidence by telling Victory the truth? Does it matter since if I resolve this issue, I plan to leave the game for good?
