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Authors: Tyora M. Moody
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bring her answers. Two years later. No answers. No justice.
Right now she needed time to get her head wrapped around reality. She felt all cried out, but her tears werenât finished flowing. Through blurred eyes, she reached into her purse to locate a tissue. None of them were very fresh, so she uncurled one to blot her face.
âYou sure we shouldnât just go home?â Rachel asked, her voice barely a whisper compared to its volume a few minutes ago.
Candace faced her. âWe wonât stay long. You two grab something to eat.â
âSounds good to me.â Daniel rubbed his stomach.
Candace couldnât help but smile. Daniel never failed to find a bright spot, especially if food was involved.
Glancing back out the window, she saw Victory Gospel Church. Modern and much larger than the old edifice, which had stood in the same spot for fifty years, Victory had grown in leaps and bounds over the years. Now sporting a membership of six thousand, the church had no intentions of stunting its growth. Pastor Jeremiah Freeman was the second pastor for the church, taking over the reins of the church his father had established.
Rumors floated around about the pastorâs health. There would soon be a shift in the Freeman dynasty, with the longtime youth minister, Jonathan Freeman, stepping into his fatherâs place as pastor. As evident today at the funeral, the younger Freeman was stepping into the role swiftly.
A member for only five years, Candace found the larger building a bit overwhelming sometimes. It was hard not knowing who sat next to her on the pew. Some Sundays being anonymous worked to her benefit. She didnât have fond memories of her childhood church, where everybody knew her business, whether she liked it or not.
One thing for sure, folks at Victory Gospel had known Pamela. She hadnât attended church every Sunday, but when she was there, people noticed her. The Colemans had been cornerstones in the church since Pamelaâs birth. Whenever Pamela had participated as a featured speaker for the womenâs ministry conferences, Candace had supported her friend from one of the front pews. Practically sisters, both only children, theyâd been attracted to each other like peanut butter and jelly.
Her body shuddered as the tears flowed.
God had snatched her husband away. After all the surgeries to mend Frankâs body from the gunshot wounds, at least she and the children had had the opportunity to say good-bye to Frank before the infections stopped his breathing.
No chance for good-byes this time. Candace blotted her face. Then she did something she hadnât been doing regularly. She prayed.
Lord, donât let Pamelaâs killer go unpunished.
Chapter Fourteen
Darnell managed to bypass the funeral processional, arriving at the church in time to watch a line of cars slowly weave into the parking lot. The cathedral-like megachurch took center stage, with its stone exterior and glass front. Even more modern in design than the main church building, the Victory Gospel Community Center stood on the back side. Since the grand opening, the VG Community Center had become a hot spot for community events. To his own surprise, he had recently decided to sign up to coach the boysâ basketball league. Should be a nice breather from the job.
Church was not always on Darnellâs agenda, but he had attended a few services at Victory Gospel since moving to Charlotte. The charismatic pastor seemed to have his hands on the pulse of the surrounding community, as evidenced by the growing church. The church was definitely different from the country church his grandmother had dragged him to every Sunday. And Wednesday. Oh, yeah, and Friday night.
The first time he entered Victory Gospel, he couldnât help but stare at all the people. When the choir entered the loft, the energy in the place crackled. He felt at home.
Funny, despite all those years he tried to separate
Right now she needed time to get her head wrapped around reality. She felt all cried out, but her tears werenât finished flowing. Through blurred eyes, she reached into her purse to locate a tissue. None of them were very fresh, so she uncurled one to blot her face.
âYou sure we shouldnât just go home?â Rachel asked, her voice barely a whisper compared to its volume a few minutes ago.
Candace faced her. âWe wonât stay long. You two grab something to eat.â
âSounds good to me.â Daniel rubbed his stomach.
Candace couldnât help but smile. Daniel never failed to find a bright spot, especially if food was involved.
Glancing back out the window, she saw Victory Gospel Church. Modern and much larger than the old edifice, which had stood in the same spot for fifty years, Victory had grown in leaps and bounds over the years. Now sporting a membership of six thousand, the church had no intentions of stunting its growth. Pastor Jeremiah Freeman was the second pastor for the church, taking over the reins of the church his father had established.
Rumors floated around about the pastorâs health. There would soon be a shift in the Freeman dynasty, with the longtime youth minister, Jonathan Freeman, stepping into his fatherâs place as pastor. As evident today at the funeral, the younger Freeman was stepping into the role swiftly.
A member for only five years, Candace found the larger building a bit overwhelming sometimes. It was hard not knowing who sat next to her on the pew. Some Sundays being anonymous worked to her benefit. She didnât have fond memories of her childhood church, where everybody knew her business, whether she liked it or not.
One thing for sure, folks at Victory Gospel had known Pamela. She hadnât attended church every Sunday, but when she was there, people noticed her. The Colemans had been cornerstones in the church since Pamelaâs birth. Whenever Pamela had participated as a featured speaker for the womenâs ministry conferences, Candace had supported her friend from one of the front pews. Practically sisters, both only children, theyâd been attracted to each other like peanut butter and jelly.
Her body shuddered as the tears flowed.
God had snatched her husband away. After all the surgeries to mend Frankâs body from the gunshot wounds, at least she and the children had had the opportunity to say good-bye to Frank before the infections stopped his breathing.
No chance for good-byes this time. Candace blotted her face. Then she did something she hadnât been doing regularly. She prayed.
Lord, donât let Pamelaâs killer go unpunished.
Chapter Fourteen
Darnell managed to bypass the funeral processional, arriving at the church in time to watch a line of cars slowly weave into the parking lot. The cathedral-like megachurch took center stage, with its stone exterior and glass front. Even more modern in design than the main church building, the Victory Gospel Community Center stood on the back side. Since the grand opening, the VG Community Center had become a hot spot for community events. To his own surprise, he had recently decided to sign up to coach the boysâ basketball league. Should be a nice breather from the job.
Church was not always on Darnellâs agenda, but he had attended a few services at Victory Gospel since moving to Charlotte. The charismatic pastor seemed to have his hands on the pulse of the surrounding community, as evidenced by the growing church. The church was definitely different from the country church his grandmother had dragged him to every Sunday. And Wednesday. Oh, yeah, and Friday night.
The first time he entered Victory Gospel, he couldnât help but stare at all the people. When the choir entered the loft, the energy in the place crackled. He felt at home.
Funny, despite all those years he tried to separate
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