Linda shook her head and tried to move past her, but Nedra wouldn’t let her. She kept talking. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me that my son would be safe with Royce? Would that man love him and cherish him for the special little boy that he is? Would he comfort him when he cries? Tuck him in at night? Take him to church on Sundays?”
Linda avoided Nedra’s eyes. Her silence spoke volumes. She took a deep breath. “What you’re asking me to do is to sacrifice my family for yours.”
“What I’m asking you to do is save my son’s life. I know it might cost you, but as a mother, could you live with the results if you don’t help?”
Linda turned her back and walked away. Her distress was obvious as she walked in circles. She turned back to Nedra.
“Royce Jamison is a monster,” she hissed. Her hatred for the man was obvious. “You don’t know what he is capable of.”
“Is he capable of being a good father?”
Linda gave a bitter laugh. “He’s not even capable of being a human being. He’s done things to me that you can’t imagine.” She shook her head at the memory. “But I’m sorry, I still can’t help you. I’ve got too much to lose.”
Pushing past Nedra, she climbed into her van, started it up and drove off. Disappointed, but not defeated, Nedra jotted down the license plate number as the van disappeared down the street. Thanks to Evelyn Linwood, she had Linda’s telephone number, now she had her license plate number and that would lead to her address. If the woman thought that Nedra was going to give up, she was badly mistaken. There was too much at stake.
* * *
Sin had never been one to believe in anything that he couldn’t see. He had tried prayer in the past when he was a child in need of a home and a family. It didn’t work. That made him a skeptic. It took finding Nedra to make him less so, but still he was dubious about believing in forces beyond this physical world. Yet, his wife was holding firm in her conviction that such a force was guiding everything that happened. She didn’t believe that it was luck.
As he pulled into a parking space near the nondescript building on Van Ness Avenue, Sin hoped that his luck would hold. His resistance to Nedra’s way of thinking had weakened significantly with his encounter with Evelyn Linwood, but whether it was luck or Divine Guidance, he hoped that this unexpected visit to the office of Ralph Walters would yield results.
According to the information his East Coast friend provided, the list of this private investigator’s clients consisted of the very wealthy. He was highly skilled in his craft and good at covering his tracks. Yet, even the best could make mistakes. Sin had spotted him, and so had his fourteen-year-old son when they were being followed. Their street smarts had competed effectively with Walters’ training, but the chances of his offering any information about the son of his most prominent client were remote. After all, Sin would be asking him to bite the hand that was feeding him and to compromise his professional ethics in doing so. Why should he? To save a child he didn’t know?
Sin hadn’t been sure that the two-story office building would be open on a Saturday, but it was. He bypassed the intercom system and avoided having to be buzzed inside due to a careless tenant that hadn’t bothered to check and see that the front door was locked. Well-worn wooden stairs led him to the second floor. The building directory gave no clue to the services provided in Suite 202. It simply read Walters. A discreet gold plate with the P.I.’s last name engraved in script was the only thing that distinguished the varnished wooden door from the others.
It was ten o’clock in the morning. Would Walters be in his office on a weekend? Taking a calming breath, Sin knocked. Silence. He knocked a second time. Still silence. It looked like luck, or the Force, had just run out of steam. He would have to come back Monday. With one more knock, just to reassure himself that he had tried his best, Sin turned to leave.
“Yeah, who is it?”
Sin stopped. Had he heard a muffled voice from behind the heavy wooden door, or had he imagined it? He frowned, then responded.
“I need to talk to Mr. Ralph Walters.”
Sin listened closely this time, his ear pressed against the door. There was silence on the other side. He pushed away and stood, waiting expectantly when he heard distinct movement in the inner office. Two locks could be heard clicking, and the door opened a crack. A man’s face appeared. It wasn’t a full view, but it was enough for Sin to know that it was the man who had followed him and his sons. He could see in his eyes that Walters recognized his unexpected visitor, but he quickly regained his composure as his face became a mask.
“What can I do for you?” His tone was impersonal.
“I won’t beat around the bush, Mr. Walters. You know who I am, and I’m here to talk with you about Royce Jamison.”
Walters’ gaze was piercing, but he didn’t register a flicker of recognition to indicate that he was familiar with the name. He remained silent.
Sin spoke quickly; he may have mere seconds before the man closed the door in his face. “You’re a professional, and I know that you would be jeopardizing your career and your income if you tell me what I need to know, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my son out of his hands.” Sin stopped and leveled Walters with a stare just as penetrating as the one that was being directed at him. He wanted his words to resonate with the man because he was making it clear that he would be relentless in his resolve.
“I have no doubt that you know more about me than I want you to know,” Sin continued. “So you know the kind of man I was and the kind of person that I turned out to be. You also know about the kind of man Royce Jamison is. If I thought that he was a decent man who had something positive to add to my son’s life, I wouldn’t be fighting this thing so hard, but I don’t think that, and I’ll take no prisoners as far as saving my son is concerned. My family is my life. It’s all I have.” He stopped again, letting that sink in. “You have children, and from what I’ve been told, before your wife died yours was a happy family.”
Walters’ eyes shifted slightly. Sinclair Reasoner was informing him that he had done his homework and had him investigated. Reasoner was not the kind of man who could be underestimated. He had met his equal. They were two generals engaged in a battle of wills. Unfortunately, only one of them could win.
“Your sons are grown now, and you’re still close. Just think if a Royce Jamison had come into your life to father one of your children. I don’t think that you would do any less than I’m willing to do to stop that.” Sin took a breath. Walters was listening. An idea suddenly struck him. This time his words were spoken slowly. “I’m not going to ask you if I can come inside and talk. I’m not naïve enough to think that you would give me your dossier on Jamison. What I am going to do is turn and walk down those stairs. If there’s information about Jamison that proves that he is totally unfit to be Trevor’s legal custodian, I want you to close your door and turn the first lock. If that information is here in San Francisco other than in your files, perhaps in public records that my sources might have overlooked, then turn the second lock. If neither lock turns, I’ll know that you’re ignoring my plea. Either way I’ll walk out that front door.” Sin backed away. Walters remained immobile. “Thank you for listening.” He turned and walked away.
He was on the first landing when he heard the first lock turn. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. Gripping the rail tightly, he continued down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs the second lock echoed through the quiet building. On shaky legs and with a grateful heart, Sin closed the front door behind him.
* * *
Nedra sat across the table from Sin in the quaint bistro they had discovered near the Berkeley Marina. While his trip to see Ralph Walters had proved a bit more successful than her trip, there was still a lot of work to be done.
“So we know that buried somewhere in the public records—which could mean anywhere—is some information about Royce Jamison that we can use.” Nedra gave that a moment of thought before cont
inuing. “And we also know that Linda Hoover will be a harder nut to crack than anticipated…”
“But it can be done,” Sin interjected, completing her thought. “We’ll talk to Donovan to see if Walters’ file on Jamison can be seized since they involve the possible endangerment of a child.”
“And you would testify that Walters indicated that as a possibility when you talked to him?” Nedra searched his face anxiously.
“I will.” His answer had a hard edge to it. He knew that she understood that there could be ramifications.
Nedra toyed with the straw in her soda, mulling over what he was saying to her before returning her attention to Sin. “He could always say that he was simply locking his door behind you, and you misinterpreted his movements.”
Sin nodded. “He could say that.”
“And if you bring him into court and prove that he did provide you with some information about his client, that could possibly be the end of his career.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“But he trusts you not to take him to court.”
“I’m sure that he hopes that I won’t.” Sin took a sip of his soda.
“And the lives of both Evelyn and Linda could be destroyed if we brought them to court.” Nedra couldn’t help but feel sympathy for both women.
“And we could lose Trevor if we don’t.” Sin stated flatly, unaffected by the same feelings.
In the silence that followed, Sin’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller I.D. It was his Oakland contact. He had called him as soon as he left Walter’s office.
“Yeah, what do you have for me?”
There was a smoke-induced cough, followed by the familiar voice. “I got nothing on the P.I that’s worth anything, but that Linda broad, she’s old school, man. Her name goes way back. Not because she was big-time, she wasn’t, but because of what happened to her.”
“So what happened?”
“Some john nearly did her in.” He gave him the details.
“Did she I.D. the john?”
“Not to the cops, but it’s obvious that something went down or I wouldn’t be calling you. I got somebody you need to talk to, but…”
Sin knew what was coming next—more money. His tone was menacing.
“No buts. All I want to know is who can confirm it, where can I find them and how much is it going to cost.”
“I want a bonus for this one. I had to dig deep.”
“If it’s worth it, you’ll get it. Now talk.”
Nedra watched as Sin scribbled down a name and an address. She could feel his cautious excitement. He had barely disconnected when she started questioning him.
“You’ve got something on Royce, haven’t you? What did he do? It has something to do with Linda, doesn’t it?”
Sin didn’t want to get her hopes up. If this lead didn’t work out, she would be disappointed, and so would he. Cautiously, he recounted the information that had been relayed.
“About ten years ago when Linda was a ‘working girl,’ she was tortured, beaten nearly to death and tossed from a moving car.”
Nedra gasped. “Oh my God! Royce Jamison?”
“There’s a woman out in East Oakland who should be able to confirm that it was him. So, I’m running out there to talk to her and see what she knows. Why don’t you go on to Carla and Jacob’s house, and I’ll join you and the kids there later.”
Nedra frowned. “I’ll take that as a joke—a bad one. I’m going with you.”
Sin knew an argument would result if he didn’t agree. “Baby, I’m gong into places and seeing people that… ”
Nedra held up her hand to stop his flow of words. “For six years I preached from a pulpit located in a church in one of the most dangerous sections of East Oakland, so don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
He knew she was right, but it was his duty to keep her safe. He was just about to tell her that when a second telephone call stopped him. This time it was Donovan.
Nedra watched her husband’s expression change from one of anxious curiosity to one of rage.
“What do you mean he’s coming after our son on Monday at noon? He can’t do that…”
The rest of his words faded as Nedra closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness and nausea at what she had heard. Swallowing, she opened her eyes, fought for self-control, then held her hand out for the telephone.
“Let me speak to him.” She took a fortifying breath before speaking.
“Good afternoon, Donovan. It’s Nedra. What’s going on? There must be something that you can do to stop this? A legal paper you can get? Some order or something?” She tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice.
Before Donovan could answer, Sin reached across the table and took the phone from her grasp. Nedra wasn’t pleased.
“We’ve got some people who could testify to Royce Jamison’s character.” Sin informed Donovan. “We also found the private investigator he used to follow us.” He didn’t try to hide his desperation. If there were any straws, he was willing to grasp them. “All we need is a little more time.”
It was Nedra’s turn to wrest the telephone from Sin as an idea occurred to her. “Listen, Donovan, Jamison called me again yesterday.” She avoided Sin’s questioning eyes. “I want to sue him for harassment and get an order of protection against him. How quickly can that be done, and could it block his court order for Monday?”
Donovan explained to her that the weekend prevented him from taking any further action to block the temporary transfer of custody, but that he would be at the courthouse Monday when the doors opened. He didn’t think that he would have enough time to block the order, but he promised to try.
Still numbed by his words, Nedra handed the telephone over to Sin. She didn’t hear the gist of the conversation between the two men; all she could focus on was that Jamison would come after Trevor on Monday. It took Sin’s repeatedly calling her name to bring her out of her fog.
Nedra blinked to focus on his angry face. His jaws were clenched, and his eyes were blazing.
“Why didn’t you tell me that mad man called you?”
“So much has been going on, I forgot.”
“The man is crazy…insane.” Sin reached across the table and took both her hands. “One telephone call, that’s all it would take to end all of this. One call and there would be no concern over ruining three lives, losing our boy or devastating our family. We’d simply board an airplane, disappear and the five of us would be together.”
Nedra looked into the eyes of the man that she loved, knowing that this was a defining moment in their lives. “But?”
Sin hesitated. Nedra’s faith was strong and some amazing things had happened, yet…He gave a shaky sigh.
“We’ll stand firm.” Running his hands over his face he exhaled. “Oh, God.” His words were filled with anguish.
“That’s who I’m counting on.” Her words were filled with hope.
He stood and tugged her up with him. “Then, I guess we’d better head out to East Oakland and put your faith to the test.”
Chapter 33
The woman who greeted Nedra and Sin at the entrance to her aging apartment building looked as if she might have been attractive once, but time had taken its toll. It was difficult to guess her age—fifty perhaps, maybe younger. Her round, double-jowled face was framed by a short cut Afro that was dyed blonde. The look wasn’t becoming. She was overweight, but there were vestiges of the shapely woman she once may have been. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Both were clean and freshly ironed.
The contact had identified the woman only as Newt. They had called to tell her that they were coming, so she was expecting them. As the handsome, well-dressed couple approached her, she smiled. To their surprise, the smile was one of recognition. Her greeting was enthusiastic.
“Rev. Ned! Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
Nedra returned her smile, searching her memory for some indication of where and when the two had m
et. She couldn’t recall.
“Newt?” Her greeting was filled with questions.
“Yep, that’s what they call me.” She extended her hand. “But Barbara Newton is my real name, so you can call me Barbara.”
Without further introductions, the excited woman ushered them through the dimly lit hallway to her apartment. The three of them entered a matchbox-sized studio apartment that smelled of scouring powder and incense. She directed them to a worn sofa, then sat on the matching chair opposite it. Her eyes were shining with admiration as she addressed Nedra.
“I know you don’t remember me, Rev., but I sure remember you. When I was homeless, I came to your church, and you fed me and gave me a place to stay. My sister was able to get one of them houses your church built and daycare and after school care for her kids. ”
“I’m glad that we could help.”
“Oh, you did more than help. I wasn’t in the best place when I came to you, but your church welcomed me, no matter what. Y’all never judged me.”
“I sure hope not.”
“Y’all was real Christians, and it was your lead they was following. Everybody said so, and man could you preach. I confess, I didn’t go to church much, but I remember one Sunday that I was there, and you set the church on fire. I even remember the topic, ‘Bearing False Witness Against Thy Neighbor’ subtitled ‘Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged.’ Usually you was real quiet like when you delivered a message—made it seem like anybody could be saved—but not that day. You got everybody out of their seats. I never seen so much shoutin’. I even got happy.” She grinned.
“Glad you liked it.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, Reverend, you did some good things with that church.” Her smile further brightened. “And guess what, I went through your drug program. I’ve been clean for five years now. You gave me the graduation certificate yourself.” With pride, she pointed to the certificate encased in a cheap, plastic frame hanging on the wall.
Sinful Intentions Page 30
