No Sin in Paradise (13 page)

I am in a daze on the boat ride back from Knott's home. I can't believe that this group of so-called men of God are getting into bed with Randall Knott to build a casino. Lord knows how many bribes and threats Randall had to lay out in order to put this venture in play. None of these men who called themselves Pastor Cole's friend were even disgusted by the business proposal. All they see is dollar signs in their greed, and they plan to take from their churches' tithes and offerings to fulfill their greed. Of course, greed is an insatiable desire.

“Are you sure that this is where you want to stop?” my driver asks.

I snap out of my trance and see Janae's home coming into the horizon. I need to warn her.

“Yes, just for a brief moment I need to see someone,” I say.

The boat pulls up to the dock, and this time I don't have to jump out and swim. Janae's house still looks like a jack o' lantern, but I'm not worried about that now. My main concern is getting her to leave before something happens to her. I hop out of the boat and make my way to the house. A shadowy figure moves out to the front door.

“Minister, didn't expect to see you. You want me to tell you your future?”

If she didn't see me coming, I doubt she can tell my future.

“I'm not interested in any of that foolishness. I'm here to warn you. Randall Knott plans to build a hotel casino right on your land, and I'm afraid he'll stop at nothing to do it.”

It was as if I didn't say anything. Janae turns around and goes inside the house.

“You need to leave,” I say as I enter the house behind her.

“Oh no, death is coming, and it don't matter where I go; it'll find me.”

I walk over to her table, and it looks like she's been playing with her tarot cards again. This time, she has the fool, judgment, and death cards laid out.

“It doesn't have to find you tonight. I have a boat outside. You can come with me, and we can figure something out.”

“You'd be the smartest man in the world if you can figure out how to outsmart death,” Janae says. “Many men try to outrun death, and they end up right into him.”

I'm not in the mood for Janae's spooky talk. I need her to come with me until I can figure this whole thing out. “We need to go, now!”

Janae doesn't respond. Instead, she just picks up the picture of her two boys. She smiles, and her smile is not sadistic, but endearing.

“What happened to them?”

“The devil got to them, that's what. I lost one of them years ago.”

Janae turns around and smiles at me. “He came twice.”

I'm confused about whom she's referring to, and the look on my face must've conveyed it.

“Your friend the preacher. The first time he called himself trying to get me saved, when all the while he was trying to get me to accept Knott's deal. The second time was different; he was different. He apologized and told me not to sell. Then the next day, he was dead.”

A cold chill swept over me at the grim details. In our first encounter, Janae did not mention to me that Pastor Cole visited her twice.

“Go on now; Janae is going to be all right.”

“I can't leave you here.” I try to grab her arm, but she fights back.

“You can't make me go either. Go. Be the man that you are and don't worry about little old me.”

“You're just going to sit here and await your fate?” I couldn't make sense of Janae's logic.

“You should learn to do the same.”

There is nothing I can say that would cause Janae to leave her home. I stand there for a minute trying to think of something I could say that will cause this woman to fight for her survival. Self-preservation is a common trait in the United States, but not for Janae. She will not be moved, and so I turn to walk out of her house. Before I leave Janae and walk back to the boat I pray that I'm wrong on my assessment of Knott.

“Is everything all right, sir?” the driver asks.

“No, no, it's not, but there's nothing we can do about it now. We just have to let things play out,” I say.

“Excuse me, sir?” the driver asks.

“Nothing, I'm sorry. I was just thinking out loud.”

Or maybe I'm still praying out loud, hoping that God hears me and will show grace and mercy to Janae. I also pray that I'm wrong and that Janae's life is not in danger. I get into the boat and disappear in the night.

 

 

The next morning as I wake up, I do something I haven't done since my arrival at the island. I turned on the TV. I guess I need to escape the worries of Janae and the death of Pastor Cole. I flip several channels until I arrived at a station that was playing a Pastor Cole sermon. What are the odds?

“Most people got this whole prosperity thing wrong, and I admit that I have, over the years, played a part in the misconception.”

I wonder if this is a recent sermon.

“Prosperity in the Kingdom of God means that God is with you in every aspect of your life. It means that you trust God wholeheartedly in every aspect of your life, and your faithfulness produces fruit.”

Janae is right. Pastor Cole had changed, and it's tragic that the world didn't get a chance to benefit from this change.

After the program, I went downstairs. Once again, Sammy and Adele are downstairs drinking coffee and talking. Only their conversation didn't seem lighthearted.

“Why the sad faces?” I ask.

“Not sad, just shocked,” Adele says.

“What's going on?”

“Demetrius and his mother Janae were found dead this morning,” Sammy says.

My heart drops at the news. I just saw Janae last night, and this morning, she's gone. Randall Knott just killed two more people, and I can't help but to feel partly responsible for it.

I borrow Sammy's truck and take the road that leads to Demetrius's house. He survives being shot and almost drowns, only to have his life taken from him at a moment's notice. I know not many people are going to shed a tear over his death, but it bothers me. No matter how deplorable of an individual he was, Demetrius was still a human being, and if he died without knowing Jesus and the power of His redemptive work, then the eternity that awaits Demetrius is far worse.

Demetrius's death does play a major shift in a larger, more disturbing narrative: someone is killing off anyone in connection with Pastor Cole's murder. That means everyone, including myself, could be a target. I know that it's someone that has been hired by Randall Knott, and there is enough separation between the assassin and Knott for plausible deniability.

I drive past the Dixon household. Both of their cars are in the driveway, which means that they either patched things up, or Mrs. Dixon has chosen to keep her affair a secret. I remember when the only thing that was impeding on my vacation was the affair between Prophet Chambers and Mrs. Dixon. How I wish I could trade problems. I know one thing: Victory would still be here if I had never taken on this job, now my life, as well as Adele's and Sammy's, are at risk.

I arrive at the top of the hill where Demetrius's house is located. The door is wide open, and there are several cars parked between the driveway and the door. I see people running in and out of his house with flat-screen TVs, cigar boxes, and clothes. I don't see any smoke, so there isn't a fire. I get out of the car and start walking toward the front door. The man who drove me up to Demetrius's place the other night comes out with a silver case.

“What's going on?” I ask.

“Demetrius is dead.”

“I know, but what are you doing?”

“The police and the feds will be here to raid this place. Me and the guys are getting what's owed to us. You'll need to hurry up,” the driver says.

According to reports, Demetrius died at the hospital so that doesn't make his house a crime scene, at least not yet. The driver didn't wait for my reply. He hightailed it to the truck he picked me up in and left with the case in hand. Who knows what is in that case, but it's enough for the driver to bypass the rest of the spoils. Demetrius once considered himself invincible and ruled with fear. It didn't take long for his people to get over their fears and take what they felt belongs to them.

I walk into house and feel like I'm watching the Rodney King riot all over again. There are people running all over the place with items from the house in their hands. Jewelry—you name it—trying to pack as much stuff away before the authorities arrive to cart off the rest.

I walk over to the living room. Everything except for the furniture has been taken. Demetrius had several plants in his living room. All of them have been turned over and the vases broken. I walk over to the kitchen counter and there is a bottle of Hennessy Beauté du Siècle. The fact that it's still here is odd. Beauté du Siècle is one of the most expensive Cognacs in the world. I would have to clean out my bank account just to buy one bottle. I think the bottle must've just been opened because even though it is almost full, there is glass of the Hennessy next to it. I lean in to get a whiff, and I detect that there is nothing that would suggest poison, but how else can someone take Demetrius out?

There are plenty of poisons that are odorless and tasteless, but in order to deliver this lethal bottle to Demetrius and get him to drink it, it would have to be someone he trusts, and there's only one person I know on this island who Demetrius would trust.

 

 

I didn't even know Sammy's pickup truck is capable of going over eighty-five miles per hour, until I race along on an uneven road. I now have two theories. Either Elisha Davis is the killer, and she has been playing me this whole time, or she's next on the real killer's list. The only way I will know which theory is true is by going to her house.

I am coming up on Elisha's house now, and I realize that I don't have a gun on me. I don't have time to stop by Adele's place and pick up the gun she gave me earlier either.

I pull up to Elisha's house. The door is cracked open. I look around my surroundings to make sure that I'm not walking into an ambush. I then step inside the house. The house doesn't looked ransacked, but it there are some things missing. A few pictures are missing, and the door to the bedroom is open.

I walk into the bedroom and check to make sure there are no would-be assailants hiding in the corners. The closet is open and clothes are missing and strewn on the floor. Clothes seem to be missing from the dresser as well. Whether she is the killer or not is irrelevant at this point. Elisha is gone.

I walk back into the living room and notice that on the floor lay two pictures. The first is a picture of the Eiffel Tower.

That is a message from Elisha to me, that she escaped. I hope she enjoys Paris around this time of the year, and I hope she makes her family proud. The second picture is the same picture that Janae had in her house. It is a picture of Demetrius and his brother. There is a connection there. A message that Elisha was trying to convey to someone, maybe even me. But I don't know, and I can't make sense of two people who are dead and one person who is missing. I need to go somewhere to think.

The news of Janae's and Demetrius's deaths, and Elisha's sudden disappearance drives me to the one place where I know I can find answers, or at least pour my heart out. I go to the same church that Sammy took me to the last few weeks. Prayer changes things. That's an elementary principle in Christianity, but within it, there's truth. I thought I would find myself alone, but I'm alone, Pastor Clayborn is here, and she is praying up a storm.

Physically, she's the only one in the room, but spiritually, she has a captive audience with her prayer. Pastor Clayborn is a true prayer warrior, and her prayers have somewhat become legendary in Crystal Cove. I hear stories of people who are fatally ill and how they make a miraculous recovery thanks to her prayers.

“Thank you, Jesus! You are all I need. Anything that's not you is not worth it. You are worthy to be praised. You inhabit the praises of your people, Jesus, and I thank you,” she says.

I feel moved to fall to my knees right there in the back pew. I close my eyes and clasp my hands. For a minute, my mind is like a congested freeway; too much going on to settle down and focus. Then I start to settle down and remind myself why I am here. I am here to connect the dots as far as this case goes. I'm here searching for a spiritual epiphany. Despite my best efforts, all of my human efforts have failed, and here I am at ground zero.

“Thank you, Jesus, for your grace and your mercy. Father, I thank you for making a way out of no way,” I say.

I can't even hear the pastor any more. I can't even make out what I'm saying, and I don't care. All I know is it feels like a fog has lifted, and my mind has started to clear up.

This whole mystery lies before me and the pieces are starting to connect in ways I haven't even imagined. There is Janae and the two boys in the picture; Randall Knott and the casino; Elisha and her relationship to Pastor Cole; Pastor Cole and his relationship to the Cloth; and the power struggle between Demetrius and Randall Knott. Everything starts to come together and tells an unbelievable story right to the end.

“I know who killed them!” I say. These words came out of my prayer with sweat pouring from my pores.

“What are you talking about?” Clayborn says.

She is standing behind me, which means she must've concluded her prayer. I stand up with my knees feeling sore.

“How long have I been praying?”

“At least two hours. Boy, you were shouting it down. Yeah, there's a power that dwells within these walls. I've seen the Holy Spirit do some amazing things here.”

No argument there. The Holy Spirit has done an amazing work in my life in the last two hours. God is neither a respecter of persons nor a respecter of churches. Wherever His name is being lifted up, God dwells in the midst.

Panic set in as I realize where the killer may be headed next. I reach into my pocket and speed dial Adele's home. She doesn't have a cell phone, only a house phone. No answer after about a dozen rings . . . until her voice mail comes on.

“Adele, this is Nic. I pray that you are out somewhere, but if you're not and you're listening to this message, get out of the house! Now! I'll explain later. Go somewhere safe.”

“Boy, what's wrong with you?” Pastor asks as I hang up the phone.

“Nothing. Everything is right if the Lord can let me do this one thing,” I say.

Pastor Clayborn is confused by what I say but no matter, I know what I need to do and where I need to go next.