Jorge corrected his balance and then pinned Anwar with a settling gaze. “If you don’t care about your life, I do,” he said. “I think I’m going to have a little talk with Gregory.”
His fight waned, Anwar grudgingly took a seat at the edge of his bed. He made no attempt to stop Jorge, as Jorge pulled open the bedroom door and walked out. He wouldn’t get the opportunity to talk to Gregory anyway, Anwar thought – not if Gregory’s property attendants had anything to do with it. They would probably let the dogs out on him this time. Anwar could imagine the scene of those hungry creatures snapping viciously at Jorge’s behind. He leaned back on his elbows and began to laugh derisively. In a short while, Jorge would find out how silly it was to have poked his nose in where it didn’t belong.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Izaiah slowed the Jeep Wrangler at a traffic light, and then took the opportunity to observe Asia. With her head pressed against the window in the passenger seat, she appeared as dismal as he expected her to be. He guessed visiting her mother in the hospital contributed to her mood, but within the short space of time he’d known Asia, Izaiah could tell something else was picking at her thoughts. She’d had the same kind of aura when they got back from St. Elmo’s Valley the other day.
The strange longing in her eyes, the slump in her disposition, all pointed to signs that Asia was seriously in love with Jorge Bentley. Thanks to Gregory, Izaiah could finally put a name to the face of Asia’s mystery man.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
Under different circumstances, that question would have appeared cliché, but the tenderness that Asia felt in Izaiah’s tone reached her heart in ways she couldn’t explain. She turned to Izaiah, taking in his handsome face. “I don’t know,” she said unevenly. “I just can’t believe my mother has been shot and that we almost lost her.”
“Well, you have an assurance from the doctor. Your mother is expected to have a complete recovery.”
“And I am indebted to God, but it kind of makes me stop and think how short life really is – if you know what I mean.”
“I do know what you mean,” Izaiah said. “Two years ago, my younger brother was involved in a serious head-on collision. He was minutes away from the college campus when a drunk driver swerved into his lane and struck him. My brother wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. He flew through the windshield and broke his neck.”
“Oh my God, Izaiah,” Asia exclaimed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Izaiah smiled, showing his appreciation for Asia’s concern. “My brother was a quadriplegic for a short while, but he is relatively functioning at full strength. Actually, you can’t tell that he’s had a serious injury.”
“Thank God for happy endings,” Asia said. She settled back into her seat and stared out of the window again. She then said conversationally, “My mother and I aren’t getting along.”
Izaiah feigned a surprised look. “Really?”
“Come on, Izaiah. I know you can see that we are not the perfect family.”
“Well, show me a family who is. I know mine is not perfect. We have a few alcoholics, several dissolved marriages and a couple of jealous cousins. Oh – how could I forget? My father abandoned my mother after the birth of my brother. But thank goodness our mother rose to the challenge and raised us with some dignity.”
Asia turned her gaze back to Izaiah. “You talk about it so cavalierly.”
“I’m just being real, Asia. Every family has things to work through. I am just fed up with people pretending as if they had dropped from sky, knowing every now and then they catch hell just like everyone else. However, it is not my place to pry into your family’s private affairs.”
“So, you’re saying that my father didn’t hire you to pull me and Jorge apart?” Asia deadpanned. A small smile creased her face. “Don’t look so stunned. I know you know by now who Jorge Bentley is. Your job as the youth minister could just be a cover.”
Izaiah felt his blood pressure drop to subzero. Asia could be so exact without even knowing it. It didn’t matter that he’d consistently fought Gregory on the issue of interfering in his daughter’s life. The fact remained that he appeared to have gone along with it. Asia would not understand that, but would only see him as a betrayer of her trust. The canny way her eyes searched him, took away his courage to admit the truth. Why did he allow himself to walk into such a trap?
Suddenly, as Izaiah was contemplating his next move, a frightening sound erupted out of Asia’s mouth. Izaiah slammed his foot on the brakes and followed Asia’s gaze. A slim-built man was on a bicycle, swiftly pedaling away from the Beaufort’s compound.
“That was Jorge,” Asia said wide-eyed.
“Are you sure?”
“I should know how Jorge looks, Izaiah.”
“I was only saying –”
“Don’t worry about it. Just follow him.”
Izaiah stared at Asia with a bit of incredulity. “Are you serious?”
“No, I was only pulling your leg,” she replied sarcastically. “Of course, I’m serious. Look at the direction Jorge is coming from. Looks to me as if he has just left our home.”
“You’re not sure of that.”
“Of course I’m not sure, but I will soon confirm it…let’s go.”
“I don’t think we should, Asia. Your father –”
“To hell with what my father thinks! He has controlled my life for far too long.” Izaiah’s hesitation was getting beneath Asia’s skin. She felt like pushing him out of the jeep and then climbing behind the wheel to do the job herself. “Why are you still stalling, Izaiah? Follow Jorge before we lose him!”
Like an obedient slave to his master, Izaiah lifted his foot from the brakes and allowed the jeep to roll forward.
****
Sweat poured from Jorge’s head as he raced to pedal back to St. Elmo’s Valley. He had done a stupid thing, confronting Gregory. What did he expect to accomplish? Gregory was as obstinate as a mule. Jorge was surprised that Gregory had given his men the command to stand at ease, as they exchanged an onslaught of hurtful words about Anwar. Jorge called Gregory out on his manipulating ways, recruiting young men for his sadistic pleasure. Gregory reprimanded Jorge for his lack of respect, brutally pointing out that Jorge was not fit to marry his daughter.
Gregory was inflamed with hatred. At that point, it became futile for Jorge to remain on the compound. So after delivering the strongest threat he could toss at Gregory, Jorge hopped on his bicycle and made his fiery exit. However, he did not anticipate running into the three men who had violently attacked him several weeks ago. They were waiting just outside the wrought-iron gate. They sneered, boldly showing Jorge how much they loathed him.
One of the men pulled out a pistol and took aim. At first, Jorge thought that the man was simply playing around, but when the first shot grazed his ankle, Jorge experienced an immediate adrenaline rush. He could sense that these men were up to no good and they weren’t going to let him slip by. He began to pedal like a bat out of hell. His ankle was on fire, but he could not stop to assess the damage. The men had climbed into a black limo and were now in pursuit.
Jorge’s only route of escape was to ride between small spaces, but as he looked over the horizon, there spread before him were acres and acres of lush, green grass. He cried out to God for intervention, but instead, he felt a cloak of darkness descend upon him. Jorge soon realized that the black limo was right next to him, its wheels spinning ominously in the hot sun. His fear was heart stopping. His body had grown rigid. He stared into the face of one of the men, only to behold a grin so malevolent that it pierced right through Jorge’s soul. As he rode under an overpass and came out to the other side, the first bullet entered into his back and wedged itself deeply into his lungs.
Jorge tumbled off the bicycle, writhing in shock. The second bullet struck him in his stomach. Thinking that he would not live through this ordeal, Jorge thought of the only person he believed might lead the police to his murderer
s. The rush of adrenaline was quickly ebbing, so was his strength. He crawled a little ways into the dust and legibly scribbled the name of the person.
The last thing Jorge remembered hearing before he’d unwillingly slipped into a state of unconsciousness, were the panic-stricken cries of his one true love. His dreams, his desires, his aspirations, seemed to be shattered in that one moment. Asia Beaufort would never be his bride. All because he had fought to uphold his integrity.
****
Izaiah swung the Wrangler in front of the scene. He pulled out his cell phone and immediately tried to contact both the ambulance and the police. Asia staggered out from the passenger side, feeling as if she had just walked onto a horror set. They had been a little ways behind the limo, when they saw it pull next to Jorge and fire two shots at him. Everything happened so quickly that Asia’s mind took a few seconds to catch up. But when it finally had, her earthshattering screams could be heard a mile away.
Asia fell to the ground and hovered over Jorge’s body. It did not matter that her hands and parts of her dress were now covered in her lover’s blood. She needed to be near him. She needed him to know that she was by his side and that she still had plans to marry him. She refused to believe that this was how things would end between them. As difficult as it was, Izaiah stood for a moment and endured Asia’s pitiable lament. Her pain broke him down to size and before he knew it, a thin blanket of tears touched his eyelids.
All Izaiah wanted to do in that frozen state of time, was to wrap his arms around Asia and let her know how much he cared about her and the pain that she was experiencing. Such a beautiful creature who did not deserve to be pulled into such an unexpected tragedy. However, it was obvious that if he touched her now, he would only aggravate her emotions. The scene appeared too intimate for his intrusion. But to his amazement, as he was turning away to get rid of his tears, Asia pulled on his shirt. She then practically stumbled onto his chest, holding onto him as if life was about to slip out of her as well.
“Oh, Izaiah,” she groaned bitterly. “I can’t believe they did this to Jorge…make him get up from that ground, because he’s not listening to me. Doesn’t Jorge remember? We have dreams to fulfill.”
Izaiah’s heart shuddered at the poetic blues flowing out of Asia’s pain. He squeezed her gently and tried to comfort her as best as his words would allow. His spiritual background was a good source to glean from, but even that didn’t seem to be enough, because he’d never felt such dismay in his twenty-five years of life.
“Every step of the way,” he told her. “I will be here to help you get through this. I promise you that we will find the persons who are responsible.”
Although she felt that Izaiah was sincere, Asia scoffed at his words. She did not need to figure out anything, because she already knew who was responsible for Jorge’s murder. She abandoned Izaiah’s embrace and returned to Jorge’s lifeless body. She began to plant soft kisses all over his face, speaking into his ears in hopes that by some miracle he would hear her.
Izaiah, however, was not prepared for what came next, so much so that it completely knocked the wind out of his lungs.
“Oh, my sweet Jorge,” Asia continued to weep. “We both know that my father has done this to you…we are not going to let him get away with it…I will see to it, Jorge, that my father spends the rest of his miserable life behind bars.”
Epilogue
The coroner hoisted Jorge’s body into a white van. By that time a team of investigators, led by Detective Richard Shelby, had already been dispatched to the scene. They questioned Izaiah and Asia, but both of them had been too shocked to pay any attention to details – as in trying to identify the license plate number of the limo. Asia did report, however, that she believed the last place Jorge had visited was at the Beaufort’s estate, explaining that Jorge’s murderer was her very own father.
****
Gregory hadn’t imbibed alcohol in a long while, but that afternoon, he decided to pour himself a shot of brandy. Miss Rose kept a portion of it in the pantry to be used in her cakes during Christmas. He was too overwhelmed to simply settle for a cup a coffee. He leaned back in his swivel chair and tried to unwind. With his wife recovering in a hospital, and Viola pressuring him to stay ‘focused’, he did not have the patience to deal with Jorge and his crazy antics. The argument they’d had had left him drained. As soon as Asia got home, Gregory planned to have a serious heart-to-heart talk with his daughter about Jorge and his silly dreams of marriage. Whatever it took, he would make Asia see that Izaiah was the right man for her.
****
After two days of being in the hospital, Dana’s eyes fluttered open for the first time. She looked over to her left and noticed that Dallis was fast asleep in the chair that was next to her bed. However, Dana did not know where she was, or the reason why she was there. The most recent memory she had was about two months ago. She tried to move her body, but soon realized, she found it impossible to even wiggle her toes.
****
Anwar waited for Jorge to return from the Beaufort’s estate so that he could assess what damage had been done to his ‘newfound opportunities’. However, after twenty minutes his irritation eclipsed his patience. He was not going to sit around and drive himself crazy. If Jorge wanted to betray him, then so be it. There was nothing much Jorge could do anyway. Preferring to put his mind in a place of relaxation, Anwar used his new iPhone to dial Ms. V. She told him that there was a gig available. All he had to do was show up and perform.
****
Candi Beaufort had one week left in the Cayman Islands, but when she heard the news about her mother, she made reservations to fly out on the next available flight. She would be landing in Bliss Haven within two days – bringing all of her pomp and attitude along with her.
THE END
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FROM THE DESK OF H. H. FOWLER
To my loyal readers, please, if you dare, join me in Book II of the Behind Closed Doors series, Poison Candy for the conclusion of the unfolding drama. I promise you that it will be an adventuresome ride! Please visit my website: www.hhfowler.com or my blog: www.churchboyz.org and leave your comments about my story. Huge appreciation to all for your support and encouraging words. I always say, without you, the reader, we writers could not be successful.
POISON CANDY
(Behind Closed Door Series – Book 2)
H. H. Fowler
Sin is like poison candy. It offers instant gratification but with demonic enhancements attached. It entices and then lures its subjects until their destiny is wasted in the market square of life.
- Frank Dubbin (Bliss Haven Preacher)
Chapter One
It was approaching seven thirty in the evening when Izaiah eased the jeep onto the Beaufort’s driveway – three hours since he’d left the fatal scene of Jorge Bentley’s murder. Asia, Jorge’s love interest, did not waste any time reassessing what she was about to do. She hopped down out of the jeep before Izaiah had the opportunity to assist her. In broad daylight, she had witnessed her future husband being shot to death like a dog in the street. Everything inside of her screamed that her father had something to do with it. And even though Izaiah tried to reason with her, she would not let him convince her otherwise. She was determined to confront her father with her suspicions.
“Come on, Asia,” Izaiah pleaded. “You are not sure that Jorge was coming from the direction of the estate.”
“Maybe you are not sure,” Asia spat indignantly. “Jorge wouldn’t have come up to these parts except he had a reason. My father hated Jorge and would have done anything to tear us apart.”
“So you think your father had Jorge shot? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, I do
n’t! Everyone knows my father is a bully. If he didn’t do it, maybe he got his stupid men to do it. I wish I’d gotten the license plate number of that limo.”
“If that is the case, then why don’t you let the investigators do their job? You are in no condition to deal with this tonight.”
“Oh, please, Izaiah, don’t baby me! Jorge was from St. Elmo’s Valley. When those investigators discover that little tidbit about him, his file will be immediately tossed into the slush pile. Better I give them a helping hand, don’t you think? They’ll have no other choice but to give Jorge’s case priority.”
“I see that you have little faith in the police department…”
“It is what it is, Izaiah. Welcome to Bliss Haven.”
Asia climbed up the steps that led to the grand oak doors. With a forceful push, the doors swung open. Asia’s dress was splattered with Jorge’s blood, which only added fuel to her anger. At this time in the evening, the only place her father would be was in his study. She did not knock, but barged in as if she was the superintendent of police. Gregory jumped out of his seat, toppling the remnants of his brandy to the rug.
“Asia, what the devil has gotten into you? Charging in here as if –”
Asia got right into her father’s face and demanded, “I’m not asking you if you killed Jorge, because I know you did. Just explain to me how you did it!”
The question threw Gregory into a tailspin. He stared at Asia’s bloody dress and then stared at Izaiah for an explanation. Asia’s claim could not be true, because Jorge had not too long left the compound – alive and well. Gregory wondered if the brandy was causing him to hallucinate, but Asia’s fiery glare was enough to convince Gregory that he wasn’t hallucinating anything.