The Believer Read online

  By

  Kym Davis Boyles

  Dedication

  To my Heavenly Father who has surrounded me with so much love from so many places…thank you. Kym

  Copyright © 2015 Kym D. Boyles

  Editing by Trisha Lewis

  Cover design by Elaine Lanmon

  KDB Publishing

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any way, shape, or form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 13: 978-0-692-38766-5

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

  Columbia, South Carolina

  www.writerkym.com

  Prologue

  Evan sat on the edge of her living room sofa in nervous expectation of hearing Leon’s guilt pronounced as she watched CNN prepare to broadcast live coverage of the reading of the jury’s verdict. She had purposely not attended the trial but had mentally prepared to see him nevertheless, having been warned of the possibility of a subpoena from the prosecution. It never arrived. Now, after a three week long trial, the breaking news banner ran across the bottom of the television screen … the jury had reached a verdict. Evan froze, not wanting to move an inch; anxiously awaiting the 4 p.m. Eastern Standard Time scheduled verdict reading.

  Hearing her husband’s footsteps, Evan turned around. A bare-chested and bare-footed Greg walked into the living room with two glasses of lemonade. He held a glass out with a silent nod of encouragement.

  She held her palm up, rejecting it. “I’m too nervous to drink, baby.”

  “It’s okay, just calm down,” he said placing the glasses down on top of coasters on the wooden coffee table.

  “I’m trying.” She was but she was just not doing a very good job of it.

  Greg sat down close to Evan, placing his arm protectively around her. They both watched as the tension inside the courtroom grew tense as did the restlessness of the crowd waiting outside. There was a quick camera shot of Leon; her ex-husband looked slightly older in the face as if the three years had aged him ten. He still had his signature build, just a bit bulkier as if he’d been lifting weights. The camera focused on him and his attorney Flint, both whispering but Leon was smiling like he had no concern of the outcome.

  After the rejected plea deal, Flint and the rest of Leon’s defense team fought to get the capital murder portion of the trial thrown out on claims that Aaron was a habitual criminal looking for a reduced sentence and snitching was a last minute attempt to save himself. Although not successful with that motion, they were successful in delaying Leon’s trial date for three years with claims of witness tampering by the prosecution and finally a petition for a change of venue which was granted.

  Evan tensed up as the CNN cameras closed in on Judge Reynolds while the unseen jurors filed into the courtroom. The judge settled in, adjusting designer glasses and leaning back into a surreptitious stretch.

  “You’re shaking,” Greg said, holding her a bit tighter.

  Evan didn’t respond, just stared at the television screen, not wanting to miss any portion of the proceedings. The courtroom went silent as the brunette judge asked the jurors if they had reached a verdict; they had. The bailiff was handed the verdict and passed it to the judge who read it and nodded before it was given over to the clerk. Evan looked over at Greg sliding their hands together as her heart pounded in anticipation.

  Leon stood and buttoned his tan suit jacket as his attorney stood shoulder to shoulder doing the same. A plain female clerk stood and unfolded a paper. “We the jury find the defendant, Leon Ladson, guilty of conspiracy to commit first degree murder.”

  Gasps permeated the courtroom as Leon stood emotionless. Judge Reynolds used the gavel, banging for silence. Evan held her hand to her chest staring at the screen, finally able to exhale not even hearing the reading of the other charges. Guilty of conspiracy to commit first degree murder had said it all. There were no winners but she hoped that verdict could bring some closure to Emily, Katie and Sundi.

  In all, Leon received 22 years for conspiring to murder Samuel Whitlock and Katie and Sundi McCoy. In addition to that sentence, Leon received an additional 8 years for sexual assault on Sundi for a total of 30 years. As if not hearing that he’d be going straight to jail, Leon stood stoic with his face confident and proud. Evan sat paralyzed staring at that evil image on the screen.

  Greg picked up the remote and turned off the television. He turned to his wife, kissed her, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “This situation is now behind us.”

  One year later

  “Sundi!” Evan shouted placing a grocery bag on the kitchen table. The house was unusually quiet. Gracie might have gone down for a late nap so maybe Sundi had fallen asleep along with her but Evan didn’t even hear the sound of the television. Walking through the house; there was no sign of the two. Sundi was only left with Gracie for a few minutes; she just wanted to take a stroll for a quick coffee. At 13 years of age, Sundi had strict rules not to leave the house, open the door, answer the phone or leave Gracie alone. It was just so stupid to leave Sundi alone with Gracie. Alarm began to set in as Evan walked through the house picking up speed with every step, calling out Sundi’s name.

  Looking around in a growing panic, Evan ran up the stairs, still calling out Sundi’s name. Sprinting toward Gracie’s room, she grabbed the doorknob bursting through the door. The sight of an empty crib caused her heart to palpitate heavily. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand in full a blown panic.

  “Hello Evan.”

  Evan turned toward the deep voice, gasped, feeling her body grow weak. Speechless, she stood staring at Leon sitting in Greg’s rocking chair holding Gracie. If it had not been for him holding her baby, she would have fallen to the floor. As if in slow motion, Evan’s eyes moved to Gracie who lay peacefully in Leon’s arms. Without thought, she lunged toward Leon and grabbed Gracie out of his arms. He freely let the baby go, smirking at having the power to make her feel so vulnerable. Evan cradled her baby tightly and stared at Leon who leaned back comfortably in the chair with his eyes focused intently on her.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “Motherhood certainly agrees with you.”

  Evan maintained eye contact, her hands shaking nervously. “Where’s Sundi? Did you hurt her? What’re you doing here?”

  Leon laughed.

  She knew why he was there… to kill her. Was he out on bail? How did he find out where she was living? How did he get inside? Sundi!

  She closed her eyes, feeling weak and sick to her stomach. With one hand, she held Gracie tightly and with the other, she grabbed the side of Gracie’s white dresser and used it to keep from collapsing. She had to focus and get to a phone but the house phone was in her bedroom and the cell phone was downstairs in her purse.

  Leon scooted to the edge of the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. Wearing a charcoal pinstripe suit, he looked just like Evan remembered; tall and unshakeable, with a strong and handsome brown face. He stared at her, eyes scanning her body up and down. “I always thought that you were the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  Evan’s lips quivered as they parted to speak, “How’d you get out?”

  Leon grinned but before he could answer, Gracie began to cry. Evan looked down at her, using both arms to rock the infant gently back and forth in order to soothe her.

  Leon stood up and Evan stumbled backward knocking it
ems over on Gracie’s dresser. He put his hands up.

  “Whoa…calm down, I just wanted to give you the chair so you can sit down with her.” Leon took another step forward and looked down at Gracie. “She’s beautiful, looks just like you. She’s what I imagine our daughter would’ve looked like.”

  Shivers of disgust and fear ran up her spine at that. Evan looked down at Gracie then looked at the door trying to calculate the perfect time to run. But she wouldn’t be able to run quickly or far with Gracie without this monster being able to reach out and grab them. “Where’s Sundi?”

  Leon took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets. “I sent her home. Don’t be mad at her.”

  Evan’s eyes welled up and she prayed silently. God has not given me the spirit of fear.

  “Where’s the good Samaritan?” Leon asked with a smirk, referring to Greg.

  “He’ll be home soon so you better leave now.”

  Leon sat back down. “I’ll wait for him. I can’t wait to see my old friend,” he said with a scary sneer.

  Evan began shaking. “Are you here to kill us?” As that arrogant mouth opened to answer, the room began to shake.

  Evan’s blood curdling scream caused Greg to jump up from a deep sleep and immediately turn to her. Even in the dimly lit room he could see her struggling. He reached over and turned the lamp on. “Baby…baby…wake up,” Greg insisted shaking Evan out of her sleep. “Are you okay?”

  With her entire body trembling, Evan blinked her eyes and looked at Greg as if not recognizing him.

  He pulled her close to him. “Baby, it’s okay.”

  “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?” she asked grabbing his shirt frantically with eyes stretched wide as if having seen a ghost.

  “Baby, no, he’s not. It was another nightmare,” Greg assured her. She had these nightmares about Leon every so often although not recently until tonight. “He can’t hurt us or anybody anymore,” Greg said.

  Drenched in sweat, Evan looked at Greg in a panic. “You don’t know Leon like I do,” she managed to whisper in between heavy short breaths.

  “Baby, you’re soaked,” Greg said getting out of the bed then walking into their bathroom for a towel. He walked back out and began dabbing her forehead.

  Evan snatched the cloth from her forehead. “Where’s Gracie?” Evan asked throwing the covers back and hurriedly climbing out of the bed.

  “Gracie’s in her crib sleeping, baby,” Greg answered calmly walking after her as she hurried to Gracie’s room.

  Evan pushed open the door then rushed over to the mahogany stained crib to see Gracie sleeping peacefully on her back. She looked back at Greg watching from the door before reaching inside the crib and picking Gracie up.

  “Baby…” Greg said in a low tone.

  Evan held Gracie close to her as she placed her face into her baby’s neck.

  Chapter 1

  The chief of police of the city of Fairfield parked his patrol car at the back of the abandoned warehouse before disabling the dashboard cam. Stepping out of the car, Chief James Mason bent his wrist and flipped his hat onto black and silver speckled hair. He was a polished and fit 50 years old, appearing more youthful than aged with taut brown skin that harbored a meticulously manicured hint of a beard. He was genuinely attractive and seemingly pleasant which, as chief of police, always worked in his favor.

  He stood tall, never slouched; proud of his 15 year reign as chief—having labored tirelessly for it and rising up in the ranks of the competitive police department since the age of 20. All of the work, butt kissing and butt whipping ultimately paid off for him because now he was running the department.

  It was bright outside so the chief was forced to remove his signature sunglasses immediately after entering the dim warehouse. Rays of sunlight beamed in through dusty thick glass panes just below the high ceiling onto the large deserted space. Walking in, he garnered the immediate attention of the four men inside. He removed his hat showing eyes like daggers to the two black teens sitting side by side in raggedy gray fold up chairs.

  The chief observed Tim, the caramel-skinned teen with curly black hair looking pathetic and desperate in a Lakers jersey and baggy jeans. Tim kept his eyes on his baby blue LeBron James sneakers, frightened out of his mind but then there was Devon, the bold, disrespectful one with a neatly cut afro sitting slouched with a cheap oversized orange bubble jacket on and squeaky clean Jordans.

  Smiling that famous smile, the chief nodded at his deputies, one of whom stood in front of the teens, the other leaning on an old wooden splintered table.

  “Hello everyone,” Chief Mason said looking over at the teens. “How’re you boys?”

  Tim looked up at him with big watery eyes; lips trembling, unable to move his mouth to answer. The chief turned to Devon who was the real reason they were all there. The chief and Devon made eye contact before the teen cowardly looked away.

  Chief Mason looked at the deputies. “What do we have here fellas?”

  Officer Hernandez cleared his throat, “Our young entrepreneurs, Devon and his side kick Tim, Chief.”

  The three men laughed looking at the fearful teens.

  “Batman and Robin?” the chief joked, patting Devon on the shoulder while walking around the group. “How are you Devon?”

  A defiant Devon refused to answer but continued staring down at the floor.

  Chief Mason leaned against the old wooden table next to his deputy. “Devon my man, I don’t understand what’s going on. You look like a nice young man and you obviously like nice things from the look of your Jordans.” The chief leaned forward to take a closer look at Devon’s sparkling white and red sneakers. “Those are like…what, two hundred dollars?”

  “Man, we ain’t did nothing to y’all,” the teen contended, “shoot, y’all driving around harassing people. We just trying ta eat.”

  Chief Mason got down in Devon’s face. “You know what? I understand,” the chief said sympathetically, “cause I’ve got to eat too.”

  Tim squeezed his eyes tight and his lips began to move in a below the breath murmuring but loud enough that Chief Mason looked over at him.

  “Oh, you praying?” Chief Mason asked. He and his officers laughed.

  Tim fought back tears as he continued to whisper, struggling to breathe as his chest went up and down in rapid movement until he leaned forward with his head in his lap. Officer Hernandez walked over, gripped Tim’s shoulder and pulled the teen’s body back straight against the chair.

  Chief Mason placed his index finger in front of Tim’s lips. “Shhhh, calm down Timmy.”

  Devon looked over at Tim then closed his eyes. The chief folded his arms, took a deep breath then looked at recently manicured fingernails on one of his hands. “Devon, look what you got your friend doing, crying and praying. You dragged him into this world and got him working against me. Tsk tsk tsk.”

  Devon shifted in his seat.

  The chief nodded his head with a grin. “It’s the girls, isn’t it?”

  “Naw man,” Devon shook his head while clenching his fists.

  “Yeah, you do it for the girls. I can relate. As a matter of fact, I’ve got a pretty young wife who loves nice things, let me tell you.” The chief motioned with his hands to demonstrate his wife’s hour glass figure as he bit his lip. “You should see her. I promise you that she gets what she wants.”

  Devon wiped eyes that had begun to water with the back of his hand. “I got a year old baby and he needs everything, man,” Devon pleaded, his voice quivering. “I don’t make enough money flipping burgers to buy him what he need. I’m just trying to take care of him and my momma; she got hurt last year and can’t work,” the baby faced teen said.

  Office Hernandez chuckled, causing the chief to look over at him.

  Devon squeezed his eyes shut as if fighting back the tears. “Man, look; we ain’t trying to start no trouble and have no beef with y’all. I just want to make sure I can take care of mines, you know?�
�

  “We ain’t do nothing,” Tim cried with his hand covering his head.

  Appearing compassionate, the chief nodded. “I get it guys. You’re both young men trying to keep your heads up and handle your responsibilities; I can’t help but respect that.”

  “That’s all man,” Devon said.

  Chief Mason stood up. “Just not on the block that I own. See, all of that area belongs to me. Anybody who works around there has to have my permission and without that, they don’t work.”

  Devon sat up straight glaring at the two deputies who were smirking as they watched him. “I understand that but these two fools been coming around trying to clown me and I ain’t did nothing to nobody,” Devon said raising his voice.

  Officer White interrupted the teen’s rant. “You don’t listen, Devon,” the pale deputy said running his hand over his buzzed cut hair.

  “Man, shut up,” Devon said to the deputy. “Y’all been harassing us and threatening us. I don’t even bother nobody.” The cocky teen turned up his nose at the deputy. “I’m just 18. I can’t hurt your business. I just want ta go home.”

  “Officer White, leave the kid alone,” the chief said.

  Devon stared down at the floor refusing to look at any of them while Tim kept his eyes closed as if afraid to see anything.

  “Officer White,” Chief Mason said, “What did they have on them?”

  The deputy opened a green nylon drawstring sack and poured out about forty small plastic baggies on the wooden table. The chief smiled, then held one up. He looked over at Tim then Devon, both their eyes wide with dread. “Where’d you get these?” the chief asked, examining the package of tiny beige rocks.

  Tim took a noticeable gulp then looked over at Devon.

  “Man, just please let us go,” Devon begged. “Please…y’all can have all that and we won’t say nothin. I’m sorry; just please let us go home. My momma and my lil’ boy need me.”