Chapter Thirty
“Tell me I didn't just hear that. Turn up the television!” Keith boomed.
Josie must be in the bathroom.
He'd been in the kitchen when he heard the morning news from the television in the next room. Maybe he had heard wrong. He propelled himself as fast as he could into the family room.
“Mindy Laurelton, daughter of building tycoon Bill Laurelton, and key witness in the alleged rape case against Michael Jason Ward, has been found badly beaten. She's been hospitalized at Mount Cedars hospital where she's under heavy guard. No other information has been provided, but stay tuned as we bring you up-to-date information,” Roslyn Barnum, the anchor, stated.
Hunger forgotten, Keith bounded up the stairs. “Gina, you've got to listen to this,” he said, turning on the bedroom light. Gina sat up in bed, blinking rapidly and wiping her eyes. He surfed to find a station featuring the news.
He watched Gina's face snap to attention. She shook her head. “Michael didn't do this. He couldn't.”
Keith's shoulders sagged with relief at the surety of her words. She had voiced his fears aloud. “I hoped . . . I didn't think so, but hearing you say that . . .” Keith shifted gears and reached for his cell phone.
“I didn't do it,” were Michael's first words. “I didn't hurt Mindy.”
“I know. I believe you. Get Verona on the phone and the both of you get over here.” Keith disconnected the call.
He noticed Gina's head bent in prayer. Keith fell to his knees and began to pray as well. He knew if he thought Michael was the perpetrator, so would Bill, the press, and everyone else. The world would think Michael was involved in Mindy's demise.
When Keith opened his eyes, he saw Gina's gaze pinned to his face. He returned her look, stare for stare. She bit her lip and broke eye contact. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Gina slid off the bed. She moved toward the bathroom to take care of her morning rituals.
Keith remained pensive until she returned. “Gina, what's on your mind?”
“I think I might know something to help your case,” she said. “Or rather, I think Colleen does.”
He frowned. “Colleen?”
“Yes, she told me something when we met for dinner a few weeks back. At the time, I was mad at Michael and . . .” She stopped and picked up her cell phone. Keith listened in as Gina placed a call. “Colleen, I think you need to stop over. It's about Michael's case.”
Gina ended the call and looked at Keith. “She'll be here in about a half hour. She's dropping Kim and Kaye off at school.”
For some reason he could not fathom, his wife looked guilty. “You wouldn't be holding out on information that could free my brother, would you?” he asked with a halfhearted grin, expecting her to laugh at his jest.
With a furtive glance his way, Gina mumbled, “You'll have to decide once Colleen gets here. I've got to take Epiphany to school. And, Trey's due for his blood work.”
As a cancer survivor, Trey had to keep up with his screenings to make sure he was still in remission. Keith knew his son had been healed, but did not discourage the practical steps toward maintaining good health.
Great.
She was leaving him in suspense. Before she left, Keith said, “I have to talk to you about something else later.”
His wife nodded. She breezed through the door. While he waited, Keith tried the bishop's phone. This time the number was disconnected.
Bishop Combs, why?
Keith heard the doorbell and pushed the matter from his mind. Right before Colleen's arrival, Michael and Verona barged in, bickering about something or another. Keith was too preoccupied to pay them any mind.
Colleen Hayworth settled herself onto the couch. “Mindy Laurelton hasâor rather, hadâa brother, Carl. He was a student of mine at the high school.”
“Mindy has a brother? That's the first I'm hearing of this,” Michael voiced. “Wait, what do you mean, had?”
“If you'd give her a chance to talk, maybe we'll know,” Verona sniped.
What's going on with those two?
Keith wondered.
Colleen turned toward Michael to answer his question. “Yes, she did. Carl was one of the most brilliant minds I've ever encountered. That's why I remember him. He was profoundly gifted. He scored a perfect score on the SAT and he was only in tenth grade.”
“Wow, that's impressive,” Keith said.
Colleen smiled. “Yes, tell me about it. We were all impressed, but Carl wasn't. Despite being smart and popular, Carl didn't like himself. He was depressed; and I'm no psychiatrist,” she said, holding up a hand in the air, “but, I feared he was mentally ill.”
“What made you think that?” Verona asked.
“I can't put it into words, but it was the look he'd get on his face at times. It gave me an eerie feeling.” Colleen shuddered. “And, sometimes his papers were a bit morbid. Carl was an amazing writer, but never pleased with his work.”
“Did you ever talk with his father about your concerns?” Keith asked.
“I spoke with his mother. She was battling cancer and his father never seemed to be home.” Colleen shrugged. “For a couple months after I spoke with Mrs. Laurelton, I saw a change. Carl was brighter, more upbeat. I thought I was wrong. Then, out of the blue, he committed suicide. He . . . he hung himself.”
“Where was Mindy when all this was happening?” Keith probed.
“Mindy was a little girl. I remember seeing her long ponytails and her sad, round face when I went to the funeral,” Colleen reminisced. “It wasn't until later I learned Mindy had been present when this happened. She was the one who found her brother hanging from the ceiling. Imagine what that would've done to a child. One who, from her mother's account, had idolized her brother.”
Verona inhaled sharply.
Michael's eyes bulged. “She found him? Where was her mother?”
“Sick on the bathroom floor. Bill Laurelton was out of town.”
Keith rubbed his chin. “I don't remember hearing about this at all.”
“Bill Laurelton is a powerful man,” Verona said. She jumped to her feet, pacing while she voiced her thoughts. “He could've kept this hush-hush.”
Colleen agreed. “I only heard about it because Mrs. Laurelton blurted it out to me. She was consumed with grief at the time. I was her sounding board. She died within months of losing her son.”
“But, he must've gotten Mindy help,” Michael said.
Keith snapped his fingers. “I agree. Mindy must have seen a professional. She definitely would've needed help.”
Michael snorted. “I bet she still does.”
Keith zoned in. “Why do you say that?”
“Mindy always seemed fragile and a little unbalanced. I really hope she's okay,” Michael said.
“Mental illness can be hereditary,” Verona chimed in. She raced for her cell phone. “I know just the person to call. If Mindy sneezed wrong, Frank will find out. I'll go call him.”
“Use the library,” Keith offered.
“Michael, I heard about Mindy getting beaten. You're suspect number one,” Colleen stated.
“I didn't,” he ground out, with clenched fists.
Keith studied Michael's face, taking in the jutted jaw and his rapidly blinking eyes. “Well, you're the obvious culprit, since you'd have benefited the most from her . . .” He didn't want to say “death.” “Demise.”
“I didn't hurt her in the first place,” Michael pointed out. “Regardless of anything, I wouldn't want Mindy dead.”
Colleen patted Michael's arm. In a tone laced with sympathy, she took his hand in hers. “Let's pray.”
Michael lowered his head and closed his eyes. Keith bowed his head as well. Colleen's soothing tone echoed throughout the room.
“Father, we know the enemy desires to trap us and to keep us bound. Lord, you have not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind. We ask for your healing power to stretch toward Mindy in that hospital bed. We ask for your help in capturing her assailant. Lord, I put Michael before you. Give him the strength to face this trial and give him peace. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.”
“Peace be still,” Keith said, with uplifted hands.
Coming out of Keith's office Verona heard the collective “amen's.” She knew she should join them, but her prayers would not pass the roof. Verona made her way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She needed a moment to compose herself.
Verona slipped onto one of the stools by the breakfast counter. While she sipped her water, she mulled over her fight with Michael during the drive to Keith's house. Michael had gotten under her skin in the worst way. She could not understand him. A young woman was laid up in a hospital, badly beaten. He was the chief suspect. What did he want to do? Go see her.
“See how she's doing,” he said.
“Are you out of your mind?” Verona roared back. Michael obviously didn't understand the seriousness of his situation. “You'd better not step within two hundred feet of that hospital or you're going down.”
“I'm not guilty. I cared for her. Before all of this, she was the daughter of a man I did business with for years.”
Verona gave him a look. “Yes, a very dangerous man who wants you dead.”
“I'm human,” Michael countered. “I have feelings. I want to know she's okay.”
“Why? Is this guilt talking? Or, do you intend to finish what you started?”
He inhaled. In a swoosh of breath, he gritted out, “You think I could do this?”
Verona rolled her eyes at him. She pinned them on the road. She wasn't going to dignify that question with an answer. Of course she knew he didn't do it. She couldn't handle the jealousy swirling in the pit of her belly. He sounded worried about Mindy; like a man in love? She wasn't sure. She didn't like it.
One strong hand gripped her chin and tilted her head. “Well?” came the imperial tone.
She said, “I'm not going to Long Island Jewish. We're going to Keith's as planned.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Verona ignored him. She was chicken to admit her true feelings. Their funk took them all the way to Keith's house. Their argument continued from the car into Keith's home.
Verona heard the back door open, bringing her mind back to the present. She rested her glass on the counter as Gina sailed in. “Whew, it's cold out there.”
“How's Trey?” Verona asked. Keith had told them about his appointment.
“He's fine. Thank God.” Gina shrugged out of her bulky coat. “I dropped him off at school, which he wasn't happy about at all.”
Verona chuckled. “I have to agree. Getting an all clear from the big cancer should constitute a free pass to stay home.”
Gina looked around. “Where's everyone?”
Verona crooked her head toward the living area. “In there. Colleen told us about Carl.” She scraped the stool as she stood, and ambled over to Gina. “How long did you know?”
Gina avoided eye contact. “Colleen told me about it but . . .”
Seeing her chagrin, Verona patted the shorter woman on the shoulder. “I'm having my contact investigate all he can. I should hear back from Frank in a couple of days at most.”
After a slight nod of the head, Gina moved to join the others. Verona took a deep breath and straggled in after her. By the time she had entered the room, Gina had sidled up to Keith. Seeing Keith's arms draped over Gina's with such ease gave Verona a jolt. She wanted to feel the assurance of someone's love. She gazed at Michael with longing, but he was chatting it up with Colleen.
Verona moseyed over to their direction in time to hear Michael ask Colleen, “Do you think you would be able to pay the family a visit? I need to know she's okay.”
When Verona heard Michael's words, she clenched her fists. “Why are you concerned about someone who wants you behind bars? What are you, a masochist?” she screamed. Whipping her head to face Colleen, Verona heaved. “Don't go within ten feet of that hospital, Colleen. Don't listen to this lunatic who doesn't even care about his own life.”
Wide-eyed, Colleen shook her head. “No, I couldn't go anyways. It's been years since I've been in touch with the family. I wouldn't think of imposing on them.”
Verona struggled to remain calm. She knew her face was red from her exertion. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell.”
“Yet you seem to enjoy it,” Michael drawled.
Verona spun her head
Exorcist
style and wailed on him. “It's you. You're making me crazy!” She felt all eyes on her. Verona knew she was in over her head. She saw the compassion in Gina's eyes and backed up. “I can't be here. I need a moment.”
Ignoring Gina's calls, Verona grabbed her jacket and briefcase and left. She knew what she had to do. With a swipe, she placed a dreaded call.
“I need you to take over Michael's case.” She blinked back tears. “I'm too emotionally involved. I can't be what he needs right now.” She held her breath waiting for the mockery.
“What happened?” Nigel asked, with surprising gentleness.
Tears rolled down her face.
Ugh!
Verona pulled over to the curb. “It's almost lunchtime. Do you have plans?”
“I'll clear my schedule. See you at our usual spot.”
They had a usual spot? Verona swung her car into traffic with the skills of a NASCAR race driver. She noticed her phone was vibrating. She pressed the phone button on her steering wheel. She preferred the Bluetooth but had forgotten to connect the earpiece.