Song of Praise Read online

  RaShawn swung around to face Pastor Marvel Williams. This man of God who supposedly believed every word in the Bible had, just two weeks ago, performed a wedding ceremony for his son and his son’s male lover. When RaShawn asked how he could justify what he had done to the kingdom of God, Pastor Marvel had shrugged as he said, “He’s my son. I was just showing him unconditional love.”

  Shaking his head, RaShawn told the man, “No one can fault you for loving your son. If I had a son and he fell into the sin of homosexuality, that wouldn’t change the love I have in my heart for him. But what I wouldn’t do is condone his sin by standing in a pulpit that belongs to God and marry him off to something he never should have been connected with in the first place.”

  Then Pastor Marvel stood up and boldly declared, “I don’t preach against homosexuality in my pulpit because no one has ever shown me where God speaks against it in the Bible.”

  Holy indignation rose up in RaShawn at the pastor’s words. “You must not be reading your Bible if you don’t know that this thing simply shouldn’t be done. But I’ll give you a quick Bible lesson if I must. Why don’t you read Leviticus 20:13 where it says, “If a man lies with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination?

  “If that isn’t clear enough for you, then flip backward to Genesis chapter 19 and read all about how God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah because the men wanted to sleep with other men. Try opening your Bible to Romans 1:26-27, and then tell me that God hasn’t said that homosexuality is wrong.

  “Many people think that God is an ever changing God and that those scriptures of old no longer relate to this modern world,” Marvel had said, still trying to justify his actions.

  “God is the same yesterday, today and forever. Holiness is what he has always required.” RaShawn stood with sadness in his eyes. He looked down on Marvel and said, “I will not debate the word of God with someone who is supposed to be preaching it. I want you to clear out your office. You have preached your last sermon for this fellowship.”

  At the time RaShawn had been so angry that he just wanted Marvel out of his sight and to never have to deal with the man again. But as he tossed and turned and Marvel’s face kept appearing to him, RaShawn bolted upright in bed. He was drenched in sweat as he frantically searched the room for the faces that had creeped into his nightmare.

  “Was I wrong, Lord? Did you have something else in mind for Marvel?”

  No answer came to him at that moment. But Marvel hadn’t been murdered like some of the other pastors that he’d fired. Hopefully, he would have time to figure out God’s perfect will as it related to that situation before it was too late.

  He got out of bed, took a shower and then headed for the kitchen where wonderful smells of eggs and turkey bacon were drifting toward him. Mama-Carmella was flipping pancakes and dancing around the kitchen as a praise song blared through the overhead speakers.

  “I thought you stopped eating pancakes.” RaShawn said as he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Gluten free, my boy. These pancakes are made with bananas, almond meal and flax seed.”

  “You are a miracle worker in the kitchen, Mama-Carmella. I wish I still lived here so you could feed me every day.”

  Smiling at him she said, “You might have a hard time finding a wife if you become a big old mama’s boy.”

  “With the way things have been going, I’m not sure that any woman would want me. I’ve been told that I’m too judgmental, in case you haven’t heard.”

  Carmella turned off the stove. She walked over to RaShawn, kissed his forehead and then sat down next to him. She took his hands and held them tight. “I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. But I don’t ever want you to forget that you haven’t asked these pastors for anything more than what God requires of us all… that we should live holy.”

  “I know. But I feel like I’m way out of my league with everything that’s going on. If I didn’t have this revival coming up next week, I’d probably stay here and hide out. I need some time to figure out what God is doing.”

  As she released his hands, Carmella said, “Listen to you. Son, don’t you know who you are? God has given you the ability to cast out demons. I might not have been there, but your sister was a witness to it, so you can’t deny that the power of God works mightily in you. Now God has elevated you to the office of a bishop. Trust Him, He knows what he’s doing.”

  He wanted to just trust God and not give a second thought to all the other circumstances swirling around him that seemed to scream… out of your league. But he felt as if he was just as weak and on the run as Elijah had been when Queen Jezebel had threatened his life.

  Tamela Mann’s song, “I Can Only Imagine” came on the radio. Carmella popped up and praise danced over to the stove. “Let me get you some breakfast,” she said, still dancing as she grabbed the spatula.

  Watching his stepmother dance across the floor as if she were truly in the presence of the King and imagining what He would have to say to her, brought a smile to RaShawn’s face. As Carmella put his breakfast in front of him and then danced back around to her seat, he told her, “I wish I could dance and praise the Lord the way you do. But I’ve got two left feet when it comes to dancing.”

  “You don’t have to get up and dance across the floor. Living holy is your song of praise, RaShawn Thomas. And believe me, it is so very acceptable to God.”

  The beginnings of a smile stretched across RaShawn’s face. It was the first time he’d smiled in weeks. He opened his mouth to thank Carmella for giving him something to smile about but his cell rang. He looked down, and fear clenched his heart when he saw that the call was coming from Detective Harris.

  “What’s wrong?” Carmella asked when she saw the stricken look on his face.

  “I hope nothing,” RaShawn said as he answered his phone and then listened to everything Detective Harris had to say. When he ended the call, RaShawn turned to Carmella. “I won’t be staying for breakfast. Another pastor within my fellowship is dead. I need to get back home.”

  ***

  Pastor Darnel King had been preaching the gospel for ten years. With over five thousand members, his ministry was flowing and RaShawn was always blessed whenever he was able to sit in on one of Pastor King’s dynamic messages. Being that Pastor King was only a few years older than he, RaShawn had hoped that the two of them would become great friends. Pastor Darnel King was not one of the six pastors he had recently fired, and therefore, RaShawn was baffled by his untimely death.

  “I don’t get it, Jarod, I mean, Darnel King was one of the good guys. And I certainly didn’t fire him, so why is he dead?”

  “That’s not the only problem with this kill.” Jarod shook his head. “His wife was hysterical when we arrived at the house, said that she found her husband on the floor when she came home from a shopping trip. But there was no note, and no grape juice. I asked if she’d taken anything out of the room.” Jarod shrugged, “She said she didn’t.”

  RaShawn plopped down. “The press never reported anything about the note this Avenger leaves behind. And the only reason I knew anything about the grape juice was because I arrived at Tony Hartman’s house before you did.”

  “Exactly,” Jarod said, as if RaShawn was catching his point. “Pastor King’s body has no visible signs of stab wounds or gun shots, so I told Mrs. King that we would have to do an autopsy. She went all types of crazy then. Claimed we were trying to desecrate her husband’s body. She said she wouldn’t allow it. But I told her that since her husband died under suspicious circumstances, there was going to be an autopsy.”

  “You can’t honestly think that Vicki King had anything to do with Darnel’s death? The woman adored her husband.”

  “The coroner worked overtime on this one. The report came in this morning, that’s why I called you.”

  “And?”

  Jarod stood up and grabbed his keys. “I need to ride out to the widow’s house. I was hoping you’d com
e with me. She might be more forthcoming with you by her side.”

  “Of course I’ll come with you. But what did the autopsy show? Was there any grape juice in Darnel’s system?”

  “It wasn’t grape juice. Come on, I’ll explain everything in the car on the way over there. But I’m telling you now… you’re not going to believe this one.”

  Jarod had been right. As RaShawn sat next to Vicki King, he was still trying to wrap his head around the coroner’s findings.

  Jarod sat across from them and put his cards on the table. “The autopsy is not complete, but the coroner discovered something so disturbing that she contacted me first thing this morning.”

  RaShawn kept his eyes on Vicki, trying to determine if she looked any different to him now than she had when he’d seen her a few weeks ago. He could only see the grief-stricken face in front of him, but he couldn’t see inside of her to know whether or not she was capable of plotting to kill a man, then setting out on a task that had taken weeks, if not months to accomplish.

  “The coroner found glass in your husband’s stomach.”

  Turning to RaShawn for help, Vicki said, “What about this man who’s going around killing preachers? Maybe he made Darnel eat glass.”

  Jarod shook his head. “According the initial findings, Pastor King has been eating glass for a few months. The coroner thinks it was ground up in his food.”

  Vicki leaned back in her seat, crossed her arms around her chest, but she didn’t respond.

  “Do you know how something like this could have happened?” Jarod asked, after enduring a long silence.

  Vicki shrugged, grief disappearing from her face as a shadow of something RaShawn didn’t recognize took its place. “I don’t know. Maybe he liked glass, like those weirdos who sniff glue.”

  “The glass was ground up so the police think someone put the glass in Darnel’s food. Don’t you have a housekeeper?” RaShawn asked, trying to nudge Vicki to say something helpful before Jarod slapped the cuffs on her.

  “No, I fired her a few months ago.” Tears flowed down Vicki’s face as she added, “My wonderful husband was sleeping with her.”

  “W-wait… wh-what are you talking about?” RaShawn felt as if he was having one of those dreams where he was falling and falling and falling. This couldn’t be real. Darnel King was one of the first pastors to reach out to him when he took over as bishop. They were becoming friends. The man was honorable and Godly.

  “Does that surprise you?” Vicki turned to RaShawn. A bitter laugh escaped as she said, “I thought for sure you’d see it. But you were so enamored by Darnel’s preaching style that you never bothered to look any deeper.

  Defending himself, RaShawn said, “I researched all of the pastors within my fellowship. No one had a bad word to say about Darnel.”

  “That was because his secretary steered you in the direction she wanted you to go. She’s been sleeping with Darnel for over five years and treats me like an insect every time I come to the office. He allowed all of his women to treat me like that.” Vicki lowered her head and cried like her heart had been broken.

  RaShawn put an arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. He’d had no idea what Vicki had endured all of these years. He silently prayed that Darnel’s actions hadn’t destroyed Vicki’s relationship with God.

  Jarod leaned forward as he gently asked, “Did you feed Pastor King the glass?”

  Sorrow etched her tone as she told them, “Darnel loved having a bunch of women. But he never trusted any of them to cook for him… that was my job.” Looking Jarod square in the eye, Vicki said, “I’d like to call my lawyer.”

  Chapter Five

  Reporters were hogging the steps of the church when RaShawn arrived. They threw microphones in his face and hurled questions at him as he tried to get inside the church.

  “Why are the pastors in this town being murdered?”

  RaShawn swatted a microphone out of his face and kept walking.

  “We have it on good authority that you fired three of the dead preachers. Do you think someone is exacting their own brand of judgment on these men?”

  “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation. You all need to go to the police station and ask your questions.” RaShawn had his hand on the door to the church. He was almost in the building.

  “Were these men sinners? Is that why they were killed?”

  What did these reporters want from him? Did they expect him to list each of the dirty deeds committed by these so-called preachers for the nightly news? RaShawn opened the door and quickly made his way into the church. Thankfully, the reporters had enough respect not to follow him.

  His secretary greeted him with a stack of phone messages. “I’m glad you’re back. The phone has been ringing off the hook. Our members are threatening to find other churches to attend or to not go to church at all.”

  That didn’t make sense to RaShawn. None of the killings occurred at church. “I hope you assured them that the church is the same safe haven it’s always been.”

  “I tried. But some of them still want their membership back.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll get on the phone and try to reassure our members that this is a safe place to attend church.”

  “One more thing that you’re not going to like.” She handed him another note. “Minister Donald Hayward cancelled.”

  RaShawn was about to explode. “What do you mean, he cancelled. The revival is this weekend. How can he just cancel three days before an event?”

  Shaking her head, his secretary told him, “He told me to tell you how sorry he is about this, but that he likes living too much to tempt fate by coming here at a time like this.”

  Right now, RaShawn needed some prayer time… needed to ask the Lord what to do next, which way to turn. But most of all RaShawn wanted time to ask the Lord how he had gotten it all wrong. All of his life, he had only strived to do what was good and right and acceptable in the sight of God. He’d thought that getting rid of those preachers and then bringing in some new, on-fire-for-the-Lord kind of preachers was the answer to this fellowship’s sin problem. But he just didn’t know anymore. Maybe he should fire himself.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Britney Hartman is here. I told her to wait in your office. I hope that was okay.”

  No, it isn’t okay, he wanted to scream at his secretary. He’d had a bear of a day and it wasn’t even noon yet. He needed his prayer time like he needed to breathe. The last thing he wanted to do was look Britney Hartman in the face and have her accuse him of being the reason her uncle was dead. But instead of running away from the situation, he took a deep breath and opened the door to his office and put a smile on his face.

  “You look awful,” Britney said as RaShawn stepped into his office. She was seated on the sofa next to the big picture window.

  “Thanks, just what I need… a good friend to tell me the truth about myself.

  “I know it’s been a tough morning, but you’re handling it well.”

  RaShawn pointed towards the window. “You saw the mob scene out there?”

  Nodding, Britney stood up and walked over to RaShawn’s desk. As RaShawn took his jacket off and sat down, she said, “I know it’s annoying to have so many people coming at you with questions that you can’t answer, and I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but that’s why I’m here also.”

  Please don’t accuse me of killing Tony, please don’t accuse me of killing Tony, he silently chanted to himself. RaShawn could deal with Judge Hartman believing that RaShawn was responsible for her brother-in-law’s death. That woman didn’t like him much anyway. She hadn’t cared much for the entire Thomas family ever since she hired Raven to find Britney, and then Raven actually did her job. The problem for Judge Hartman had been that Britney had been mixed up in the scandal of Senator Allen’s death and it had been an election year.

  Judge Hartman had been re-elected. But she still hadn’t forgiven Raven, RaShawn or her own daughter for that matter.
RaShawn only prayed that Judge Hartman’s brand of Christianity hadn’t spread over to Britney. “I don’t think this is a good time for us to talk about this, Britney. Would it be possible for you to come back another day?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job, but I can’t stay away indefinitely, or I’ll have to find another way to pay my bills.”

  RaShawn was proud of Britney. She’d been through some very trying times, but despite it all, she managed to pull herself up and turn her life around. RaShawn knew how important her career was to her, and if she had taken a leave of absence, then he needed to make time for her. The last thing he wanted was for Tony’s death to be the cause of a major setback. “Have a seat, Britney. Of course I can make time for you.”

  “Thank you so much, Bishop Thomas.”

  RaShawn held up a hand. “I told you before. It’s just RaShawn to you.” From the moment RaShawn laid eyes on Britney in that godawful place the senator’s wife had lured her to, he knew that they were destined to meet and destined to become great friends.

  “Of course you told me that,” Britney said, smiling at him, “But that was before you became a bishop. Now I’m all worried about offending you if I don’t use your title.”

  “The only way I’ll be offended is if you persist in calling me bishop. Now what can I do for you?”

  “Okay, RaShawn… I’m here because I need your help. I know you and my uncle didn’t see eye to eye, but he was a good man. My father passed away when I was just three years old. Then my mother married my awful stepfather. To this day, I still don’t believe that she didn’t know that he had a thing for little girls.” Britney closed her eyes, trying to block out unwanted memories. Shaking herself, she continued, “Anyway, my visits with my uncle were the only thing that kept me from killing myself back then.

  “One summer, I was so despondent from the things I had endured at my mother’s house that Uncle Tony made me tell him what was going on.” A big smile crossed her face as she thought about that summer. “I don’t know what he did, but by the time I went back home, my twisted stepfather had moved out of the house and my uncle assured me that I would never have to see that man again in life.”