Like Sheep Gone Astray (23 page)

“Oh, don't you?” Sheriff Malloy opened Anthony's trunk and pulled out the satchel of money he'd hidden after the phone-booth call two nights earlier. “Then tell me why I found this in your possession.”

“Do you have a search warrant?” Anthony felt pools of sweat gathering around his neck.

“Do I need one? Is there something you're trying to hide?”

“No, I mean, look—I don't know how to begin telling you about the last six months, but—”

“Save the explanations for your lawyer. Just tell me where you got this money, Murdock.”

“I can't leave this for you to fight alone, Anthony!”

Both Sheriff Malloy and Anthony were taken aback by the councilman's sudden outburst. Anthony quickly raised his hand to quiet him, but Walter swatted it down.

“No, let me,” he said to Anthony before turning to face the sheriff square in the eye. “Anthony got this money from me.
I'm
the one who doesn't know where it came from.”

Malloy looked from Anthony to Walter to Gloria and back to Walter as he continued speaking.

“Look, someone is trying to set
both
of us up by putting our names on money whose source is unknown. Earlier this week, a lot of cash was put into one of my bank accounts by an unknown party, and a check forged with my signature was forced upon Anthony to accept. We don't know who's behind all this, or what their ultimate aim is. We think it has something to do with that Stonymill expansion project that's warring with one of the civic groups, but the trap keeps getting harder to pull out of. Sheriff Malloy, we're hoping you can help us.”

The sheriff pulled one end of his red mustache, glaring at the three of them before letting his eyes rest on Walter's.

“So, you actually think I'm going to fall for your sob story about you, a respected political figure, landing a sudden, mysterious financial windfall? And the two of you are just ‘lost’] in some entanglement that has both of you helplessly controlling all that money? That's just what the public wants to hear: a preacher and a politician taking their tithes and tax dollars to make the poor poorer and the rich richer. And what's your role in all this, lady?” He turned to Gloria. “What's your reward for your compliance in this game of take-and-give?”

“No, leave Gloria out of this! She has nothing to do with any of this whatsoever!” Walter boomed.

“So you are admitting to
something,
aren't you? What is it? Where are you two getting all this money from?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying at all. We need your help, Sheriff! There's a—”

“A scandal that's about to turn this city upside down. I had a lot of respect for you and your work, Councilman, but now I see that you're as crooked as they come. Both of you, all of you.”

The sheriff headed back to his cruiser. Before he stepped back in, he turned to face the stunned trio, his eyes singling out Walter's once more. “I wouldn't take any sudden vacations right now. I'm sure both of you will be down at my headquarters in the very near future as I get to the bottom of this. You're not going to keep abusing my tax dollars, or whatever it is you're doing. I hope you have some other employable skills, Councilman, because your politicking days are just about over.”

As he sped off, Anthony bowed his head toward Walter. “I apologize for all of this. If I had not been so greedy six months ago, this door to hell wouldn't ever have been open. I'm sorry, Walter. I am truly sorry.”

Councilman Banks stared ahead as Anthony slammed his trunk shut.

“What do I do with all this money?” There was no reply. Anthony tightened the strap around the satchel and put it back in his trunk.

“Can you believe that crap?” Terri punched an elbow into a metal paper-towel holder. “I've never felt so humiliated in my entire life! I can't believe he would do this to me! And in front of so many people!”

“Pull yourself together, girl. People can hear you in the hallway.”

“Does it matter anymore, Cherisse? Does it really matter?” Terri let out a stifled wail. The two of them were in the handicapped stall of the ladies' room at the Diamond Mount. Cherisse pulled Terri to her and let the wail get choked up in her shoulder.

“It's okay, Terri. You are a proud, black woman with a good job and good sense. You don't need him anyway. Everything is okay.”

“How can you say that? Everything is not okay!” Terri pushed away, black smudges under both of her eyes. “He had the nerve to have another woman standing next to him on the stage while he's getting honored for a foundation
I
didn't know he started with money
I
didn't know he had. How could he embarrass me like this? It's like I don't even exist—I'm nothing to him. I don't even deserve a place at his table. Did you see all those people turning to look at me?” Terri's words ended with another long sob.

“I don't think too many people were paying you any mind. Think about it: Who in that room even knows you were the honoree's wife?”

Terri let out another wail before cutting it off with her fist slamming the paper-towel holder again.

“I can't stand feeling like this, acting like this. I never thought a man could make me carry on like this. You're right, Cherisse, I need to pull myself together. I'm better than this.”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you, Terri. Everything will be okay.” She wet some paper towels and offered them to Terri. “Here, fix your face. We've got to go back out there with some dignity.”

“What am I going to do?”

“You can always have a little talk with Jesus.”

“What? What did you just say to me?”

“You're right, Terri. This is a bad time for a joke.”

“Jesus? Why should I talk to him? He's obviously not leading Anthony in the right direction! What the heck is he going to do for me? Huh, Jesus? Where are You now? Where are You? What are You doing to my life?” Terri slid down to the floor, her voice breaking into choking sobs.

“Terri! Terri! Calm down! People can hear you out there. I'm sorry. I was just joking, girlfriend. My timing was terrible. I didn't realize you would take me so seriously. What's gotten into you, girl? Calm down. Calm down.”

“I'm so sick of everybody trying to use Jesus to get in or get out of their two-timing schemes. I'm done, Cherisse. I'm finished with trying to understand all that religious crap. I'm not even going to try a
little bit
anymore. Jesus ain't any more real than Anthony's little phony hallelujah self. I see who I've got now, girl. I see it. Me, myself, and I.”

“And me. You've got me, Terri.” Neither Terri nor Cherisse had noticed Reginald Savant standing in the rest-room doorway.

Uncertainty swept the car clean of any conversation the entire return trip to Councilman Banks's office. Anthony pulled into the small parking lot a little after eight-thirty. When a nearby church bell tolled nine o'clock, the three of them, Anthony, Walter, and Gloria, were still sitting speechless in the midnight-blue BMW.

“I think we need to go inside and discuss strategy.” Walter was the first to break the silence. “If the police are not on our side, we need to deepen our own detective work to convince them we're not the bad guys. Or at least come clean about any prior action we may have taken which might not have worked in our favor.” Walter's eyes met Anthony's in the rearview mirror.

Anthony could only feel small in his seat.
Why did I accept that bribe six months ago?

“Gloria, why don't you go on home. Anthony and I can stay here and talk awhile to formulate a quick and effective plan of action. Don't you worry about a thing, Miss Randall. None of this concerns you, so it should not affect you in the least.” Walter tried to sound cheery, but even as Gloria unlocked the passenger door and got out of the car, the strain on his face mirrored that of Anthony's.

“Have a nice weekend, Gloria,” Anthony managed to mumble. He watched expressionless as she headed in the direction of a nearby bus stop before he jerked back to attention. “Gloria, wait. I can give you a ride home.”

“You don't want to stay to figure out what to do next?” Councilman Banks's words were tinged with fear.

“Walter, honestly, right now I just want to go home. Give me a night to clear my head, and I'll contact you first thing in the morning.”

Walter sighed before nodding his head. “Okay, Anthony, but we really need to get things straight as soon as possible.”

“I know, I just need some time by myself to make sense of all this.”

Walter slowly got out of Anthony's car as Gloria got back in. When Anthony turned back onto the boulevard, he could see the councilman sitting on the curb next to his office suite.

“I'm sorry, everyone.” He could not think of anything else to say.

After seeing Gloria safely into her apartment, Anthony headed home, landing straight in his favorite leather recliner.

“I don't want to think about anything at all right now.” He reached for the remote control and the two-story family room soon began to flicker in a trance of dancing black-and-white shadows. Even with the television muted, he felt a headache brewing. He clicked off the set and sank back into the uneasy darkness of the room.

When was the last time you talked to Me?

The voice, so quiet and tender, cut into his thoughts. He grabbed the remote again and turned the TV back on, this time keeping his thumb on the volume button until the top-of-the-line speaker system thundered under his skin. But the voice did not stop speaking.

When was the last time you talked to Me?

“I don't want to think! I can't pray right now! Not right now!”

When was the last time you talked to your wife?

With those words, Anthony switched off the TV again and the room at once was quiet. He waited, but the silence remained.

“You are the very essence of a Nubian queen, the epitome of black queendom.”

Under normal circumstances, Terri would have given Reggie's words a C-minus for effort and a D for effectiveness, but these were not usual circumstances. As she sat on the bathroom floor at the Diamond Mount, feeling alone, humiliated, hair off duty, makeup undone, his words were like breath to her collapsing lungs. She needed to hear them.

“You don't have to sit there hurting. Stand up, black woman.”

And she stood.

Cherisse squeezed her hand. “All right, Terri, come on. Let's go. You can stay at my place for the night until we figure out what to do with the hypocrite.”

“I've got her.” And with those final words, Reggie took Terri by the arm and led her out of the ladies' room. “Come, let's get a drink to celebrate. A toast to new beginnings.”

They walked together arm-in-arm through the lobby, back to the main hall, where only a few partyers remained. Terri's feet felt like lead to her, her mind as frozen as the ice swans they passed on their way to the bar. She was oblivious to the scattering groups of two around them, tittering nervously in their games of cat-and-mouse. The last drunk dancers on the hardwood floor moved in and out of focus as if she were seeing them through cracked glass. She did not hear the closing notes of the saxophonist, smell the scattered flower petals that remained on the empty tables, feel the smoothness of Reggie's lips on her forehead as he pressed her closer to his side.

Above all, she did not see the blond-headed woman in the black micro-mini dress staring at the two of them from a corner near the kitchen door. Her bare, pecan-colored arms were drawn tightly across her chest, her mouth spitting out obscenities.

“No, that thing isn't trying to take
my
place!” Nikki Galloway stood fuming a few moments, and then a slow smile came over her face. “I ain't taking no more orders from anybody. It's time to do things
my way.”

Kent Cassell filled in the last space of the crossword puzzle and then tossed the mini-magazine in the waste-basket. From his seat beside the fireplace in the nineteenth-century Atlantic-facing Victorian, he could see Mona in the kitchen, cutting slices of tiramisu and scooping vanilla ice cream into bowls for a late-night snack. When she turned toward him with the food on a wooden tray, he quickly put a smile on his face and found an easy compliment to give her. She'd done a good job planning the impromptu trip. He wanted her to feel appreciated.

“Those are some pretty flowers you have on that tray.”

Mona smiled back with a pleased nod. “I found them in the garden on the other side of the property.”

“Ah, I should have known you would sneak back to that spot.” Kent smiled, remembering their walk to the shoreline earlier that day. A garden courtyard blooming in autumn colors bordered the path that led to the rocky-coast.

“The owners maintain this place so nicely. We'll have to come stay here again, maybe this summer?”

“Yes, maybe.” Even as he spoke, a distant look shadowed his face a second too long for Mona not to notice.

“Kent, darling, please try to relax. We are on vacation. You promised to leave all that stress and worry back in Shepherd Hills. You promised.”

“I am relaxed, honey, I really am. If it makes you feel any better, it's not the job that's on my mind, it's my cell phone. I'm bothered that I don't know where it is.” Half of the truth was better than none of the truth, he reasoned.

“Oh, if that's all you're thinking about, why don't you just call the number. If it's only mixed up with our luggage, you'll hear it and the case will be closed. If not, then you know it must still be at home. Where else could it be?”

“You're right,” Kent conceded. He took the phone Mona handed him and dialed his cell-phone number.

“Hello?” A young black woman answered on the second ring.

“Hello, who is this?”

“What do you mean, who is this? Who do you think it is?”

“I'm sorry, is this 410-555-2125?”

There was a long pause before the woman slowly answered, “No, it is not. I think you dialed the wrong number, mister. In fact, I'm sure you did.”

“Well”—Kent was confused—”I guess I did. Sorry to disturb you.” He hung up and dialed his cell-phone number again. This time there was no answer.

Anthony watched in silence as the illuminated clock hands ticked closer to midnight. He was still in the family room, shoes and socks off, suit crumpled around him as he sat on a sofa in complete darkness.
Always remember you're a child of the light.
He could hear his Great-Aunt Rosa's voice piercing the darkness with a simple melody:
Walk in the light/Beautiful light/Walk where the dewdrops of mercy shine bright.
…