Truth Be Told (39 page)

“I
t's been more than forty-eight hours since the collapse of the arena, a major disaster for the city,” the Channel 2 anchor droned.

Starlight flipped to Channel 5: “Because of the high profile of this tragedy, Commissioner Roby is moving to wrap up the investigation as soon as possible. He has been speaking with everyone involved.”

“He hasn't spoken to me,” Starlight muttered. Although she feared the police coming to her door, what scared her more was the eerie quiet. No one came by, and her telephone rang only when her mother or sister called. The silence ignited her fear, making it impossible for Starlight to function beyond rising from bed for more than going to the bathroom.

She pressed the mute button on the remote before she turned to Channel 9. But not even silence provided relief. Underneath the Halle Berry look alike anchor, a banner sputtered across the screen, updating viewers on the latest: “Fifteen still missing.”

Starlight shuddered. She clicked off the television, but less than a second later, turned it back on, flipping to CNN. There the news had nothing to do with her. But within ten seconds, her picture flashed on the screen. Then a camera panned the site of the collapsed arena.

“What is this?” she yelled, wondering why CNN would be covering the story. Starlight crawled to the bottom of her bed and rested on her knees. Moments later, she covered her mouth with her fist.

“Senator Lynnette Bonet viewed the site where her daughter attended the religious Revival two days ago. Though the senator refused comment, a spokesperson said that the Bonet family is positive and still praying that Summer Bonet will be home safely.”

The camera zoomed in on the senator as she was rushed by assistants past the screaming media. The senator's eyes and much of her nose were covered by oversized dark glasses. But Starlight didn't need to see the senator's face to feel her pain. It was clear in the slump of her shoulders and the stagger in her steps.

“The senator is determined to assist in any way she can. Whoever is responsible will be brought to justice.” It was one of the assistants who spoke before he jumped into the car that whisked the senator from the scene.

With shaky fingers, Starlight clicked off the television, then threw the remote against the balcony door. She didn't look toward the noise; her eyes were fixed on the black television screen.

It took effort for her to inhale, then exhale. The knot in her throat threatened to keep life's air from her lungs. She couldn't move, even though she'd been resting on her knees for long minutes.

You're in the right position,
a voice whispered.
Pray.
She frowned at the foreign words coming from inside. Why should she pray? And what would she say anyway? Could she pray for Summer? If there was a God, He would answer that prayer. She closed her eyes and began. “Dear God …” She paused, trying to remember words from long-ago Sunday school lessons. But though she pressed, nothing came to mind. She collapsed onto the bed, releasing her anguish and wishing that she'd never met Dr. Carr.

G
race twirled in a slow circle, her eyes absorbing the blank walls of the ten-by-ten office. She'd been told she would inherit whatever Samuel Douglas left behind. Her legacy was the ecru-colored blinds that covered the two poster-size windows.

She smiled. She'd be more effective with her personal belongings surrounding her. It was better this way, since she planned on holding this position for the two terms the law allowed.

A knock at her door, and her quick glance snatched her smile away.

“How are you, Grace?”

“What are you doing here, Sara?”

“Nice office.”

Grace folded her arms and waited as Sara strolled around the room, eyeing the blank walls as if she were perusing a museum. She pursed her lips and revisited all the plans she'd had for Sara Spears. Plans that included Sara losing her job, being disgraced in public, and ending up at the head of a soup line on Skid Row. But those thoughts had evaporated from her heart. Pilar's death had delivered a different perspective.

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

Grace thought about Matthew 5:44, a scripture she'd learned as a child. But while the verse was much easier to memorize than live by, she had decided to leave the hate to Sara. There were greater challenges for her to overcome. The challenge now was to get Sara out of the office.

“I know you're here to harass me, Sara, but why? You won. I'm not on your Education Committee. I made my statement about my husband. What's left?”

“News flash, Grace. The world doesn't revolve around you.”

“I thought your world did.”

Sara chuckled. “I want a statement about your sister. About her arrest.”

Her heart skipped, even though she was sure Sara was lying. “Your information is wrong this time, Ms. Spears.”

Sara looked at her with the confidence of a psychic. “Sources tell me Starlight will be picked up within the next few hours.”

Grace's heart beat faster, but she refused to give Sara joy by letting her see her building anguish.

“Well, you've delivered your news, so you can leave. I have work to do.”

Sara swung her purse over her shoulder. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Sara disappeared as quickly as she'd come. Grace waited until she could no longer hear her footsteps before she pulled her cell from her purse. By the time she pressed the number for Conner and Marilyn put her through, she was rushing down the long hall of the city building.

“Conner, sara Spears told me that Starlight is going to be arrested.”

“For what?”

“I don't know.” Grace rushed into the sunlight. “I'm on my way over there.”

“Did you call her?”

“No. If she's home, she won't answer. But I've got to find out what's going on.”

“Okay, I'll make some calls. Tell Starlight I'm here for anything she needs.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” She slid into her car. “Can you call Mom? I don't want the girls or Solomon to watch TV until we know what's going on.”

Grace hung up. Her head pounded with the belief that Sara was a liar, but every beat of her heart told her that Sara spoke the truth. How could her sister be responsible for the collapse? Starlight would never put anyone's life at risk. An image of Starlight's assistant flashed through her mind.

By the time Grace turned onto the Santa Monica Freeway, she was convinced that Sara had lied. Yes, the police probably did want to talk to Starlight, but only to find who was responsible. This would be over before the day ended.

“Yes,” she said aloud.

But the twisting in her stomach delivered a different message. And when she could no longer ignore the churning, she prayed.

“H
ello,” Starlight answered.

“The deed is done.”

“Who is this?” The Caller ID showed the call was from Lexington's cell.

“Come on, Starlight. You know me … very well.”

She swallowed. “Lexington, I've been trying to reach you.”

“I've gotten all your messages. The deed is done,” he slurred.

She could almost smell the liquor through the phone.

“I've talked to the police,” he said before she could ask. “I told them all about you, the illegal permits, the extra people, everything.”

She was surprised that her heart was still beating.

“They're coming for you. Coming to take you away,” he sang.

She remained silent. There was nothing to say.

“We shouldn't have done that.” His slurring was replaced by sobs. “People could die.” He paused. As suddenly as his cries came, they left. “But you were greedy,” he spat into the phone.

“And you are weak, Lexington Jackson.” She slammed the phone down.

She leaned back onto the couch, lifted the paper cup she'd filled before the phone rang, and swallowed the liquid that was as clear as water. It burned her throat, but she relished the feeling. It reminded her that she was alive.

She piled the empty cup on top of the others. There were at least twenty now. She stared at the paper monument before she flicked her finger against it, toppling the tower to the ground.

Lexington Jackson was spineless; she'd always known that. But she'd never bet that his weakness would take away everything she had accomplished. She could very well be going to jail.

Jail. Jail. Jail.
The word rolled through her mind. How ridiculous that she could be sent to prison. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity. She wanted to cry at the reality. She leaned back on the couch, closed her eyes, and did both.

“Y
ou can go up, Ms. Monroe.”

Grace had held her breath while the concierge called Starlight's apartment. She rushed to the elevator, not exhaling until she pressed the button for the penthouse.

But a minute later, when the elevator doors opened to Starlight's apartment and she rang the doorbell, she held her breath again.

Starlight opened the door, then turned away, leaving Grace standing in the hall. Grace followed her into the living room.

The sun should have been shining its light, but the massive windows were hidden by purple silk sheets that covered the glass and were stapled to the walls.

Newspapers were spread across the floor, the pages opened to pictures of the arena. Paper cups were scattered everywhere. Grace glanced through the room, looking into the kitchen and the hallway, searching for signs of other life. She realized her sister was alone.

She settled onto the couch at the opposite end from where Starlight sat. She wanted to reach across the blanket between them and pull her sister into her arms' safety.

But Starlight leaned away, pushing herself into the depths of the couch's cushions. She pulled the belt on her robe tighter around her waist.

“I guess you've heard.” Starlight wiggled her fingers through her short curls that lay flattened on the right side of her head.

“Some of it. I've called you quite a few times.”

“I know.” Starlight's gaze dropped to the cordless phone.

“Tell me what's going on.”

Starlight shrugged. “You've seen the news.”

“I don't believe them.”

For the first time, Starlight met her sister's gaze. “Thank you.”

Grace edged closer. When Starlight didn't move, she placed her hand on top of her sister's.

Instant tears filled Starlight's eyes. “I'm in trouble, Grace.”

The soft squeeze of her hand told Starlight to continue.

“I don't know what happened. The Revival was supposed to help.” Her sobs began. “One of the missing is Senator Bonet's daughter.”

“Have you spoken to Senator Bonet?”

Starlight shook her head. “No one will speak to me. Not even the police have called.”

Grace exhaled. Sara had been lying.

Starlight said, “Lexington called this morning. He gave the police his statement.”

More relief rushed through Grace's veins. This would be cleared up now.

“Lexington told how I paid for the illegal permits.”

Every muscle in Grace's body twitched with her sister's words.

“I guess he made a deal.” Starlight glanced at the clock. “I should be getting dressed.” She spoke as if friends were coming for lunch.

Millions of thoughts collided in Grace's mind. People hurt, some missing, a senator involved. The charges could be serious. Could her sister be charged, convicted, and sentenced to time in a concrete-walled, barbed-wire-trimmed prison with murderers and thieves? She closed her eyes, needing to block the image of a small gray cell with bars so thick, the steel hid Starlight's face from view.

Her eyes snapped open. “Starlight, Conner and I will help you. He's already making calls.”

“Thank you, Grace.” She paused. “I've had days to think this through. You've always tried to tell me …”

Grace raised her hand, halting Starlight's words. With gentle fingers, she wiped a tear from Starlight's cheek. “None of that matters. Just remember you have family who love you.”

“I'm scared.”

Grace fought her own tears. “You're going to get through this.”

The ends of Starlight's lips turned upward into a grimace filled with fear. “That sounds like a guarantee.”

“It is.”

Starlight stared at her sister for a moment, then turned away. “Don't talk to me about God right now, Grace.”

“That's the guarantee you need.”

Starlight lowered her head, remembering that when she tried to pray and when she asked God for help, nothing came. “God can't do anything for me.” Starlight thought of the scriptures she'd used in her messages. And at the Revival, it was after she quoted the last scripture that the arena collapsed. God's wrath. “He won't listen to anything I say.”

“You're wrong. He wants to hear from all of us, especially those who are hurting. And He has given us an open line to Him to use at any time. We have that right. We can get through any storm because He is a God of grace.”

Starlight chuckled, though there was no joy in her sound. “God of grace. Sounds like He belongs to you.”

“To me and you.”

Starlight paused for a moment. “You always sound so sure when you talk about God, Grace. How do you know? How do you know for sure that everything you believe is real?”

Grace waited, wondering if her sister could feel the answer in the silence between them. “It's what's called faith. I just believe.” She paused again. “I know what I know. But even if I'm wrong, isn't this a better way to live, Starlight?”

The ringing telephone startled them, and Grace was surprised when Starlight reached for it.

Her sister was silent for a moment before she asked, “They're on their way?”

Grace trembled for both of them.

Starlight dropped the cordless phone. “I know he wasn't supposed to call,” she said as if a welcomed guest had been announced by the concierge. “But Rick has always liked me. It pays to have someone on your side.”

“Jesus is on your side,” Grace said as if time was moving too fast. “All you have to do is ask Him to forgive you and ask Him into your heart. He'll take it from there.”

Starlight stared at Grace, her dark pupils a laser beam to Grace's heart. “Will He keep me out of jail?”

Grace nodded. “He will …” Her lips shook as she prepared to utter the next words. “If you're not supposed to be there. But whatever, He will help you survive.” Starlight blinked as if she was trying to believe her sister's words. Grace continued, “But I'm talking about the broader picture—making sure that you're saved and have a better life, no matter what happens. Talk to God. Take hold of your rights … Mabel.”

Starlight's head jerked back at the sound of her birth name, but then three swift knocks on the door captured their attention.

They stayed still until the knocks came again, stronger this time.

Starlight stood first.

Grace said, “I'll get the door if you want to get dressed.”

Starlight nodded and walked from the room. Grace waited until she heard the bedroom door close before she opened the front door.

Two detectives stood, dressed in what could have been matching blue K-Mart suits.

One squinted as if he recognized her. “Ms. Monroe?”

She stepped aside, motioning for the detectives to enter. “My sister is getting dressed. She'll be out shortly.”

“Your sister? Starlight?”

Grace nodded.

The other detective looked down the long hallway. “There's no other way out of this apartment?” His words were a demand to know.

Grace wanted to scream. She was a councilwoman. Her sister was a well-known speaker. Neither was a criminal. She pressed her lips together before she said, “No. My sister wasn't dressed. She'll be out in ten minutes.” She motioned toward the living room, giving an invitation to the uninvited guests. “Would you like to wait in here?”

The detectives exchanged glances, and then the one who recognized her nodded.

“We'll give her five minutes,” the one who didn't believe said.

Grace crossed her arms and led the detectives inside. The friendlier one sat; the other stood. Both stared at the sheets that covered the windows. Grace leaned against the wall and watched them. And all three eyed the clock over the fireplace, counting the minutes, waiting for Starlight to appear.

Starlight clasped her hands behind her back and cringed as the cold metal of the handcuffs embraced her wrists.

“You have the right to remain silent.”

There's nothing I have to say,
she thought.
What words can I give them to free me?

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Lexington had given the police what they needed to use against her, though she wasn't sure what he'd said. Whatever, it was enough to gift her with the metal bracelets that clasped her hands together.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.”

Starlight almost smiled. There were few things she couldn't afford. She twisted and then squealed inside when the metal cuffs cut into her wrists.

“Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

For the first time, Starlight looked up and into her sister's eyes. Grace had said that she had a right. She had a right to God.

As she looked at her sister, Starlight noticed the way her palms met inside the handcuffs, similar to the manner in which she greeted her followers.

May the light forever be with you and yours.

If she bowed now, the handcuffs might break her wrists.

“Do you understand these rights?”

It took Starlight a moment to understand the detectives were waiting for a response. She understood her rights—all of them.

She nodded and took a final look at Grace.

I love you,
Grace mouthed.

Starlight stumbled, almost falling. She wanted to reach out and grasp those words. But her hands were not free.

The detectives helped Starlight regain her stance. As they moved her forward, she closed her eyes. Although her lips didn't move, her heart did, and she remembered the words from long ago. “Dear God, I know that I am a sinner in need of a Savior. Please come into my heart.” She wondered if she was ready to say that prayer.

They moved into the hall, away from the apartment that she cherished and into the elevator that opened only on her floor. As she was led through the crystal-adorned lobby and finally into the day's light, she heard her sister again: “He is a God of grace.”

When the detective eased her into the back seat of the unmarked car, Starlight took one last glance at the sky and knew then that God had enough grace for her.