Chapter 49
David’s attempt to shield Sheba from the paper was not successful. Sheba grabbed the paper from under David’s arm before he could object. She read some of the article out loud.
“His wife’s husband was one of his employees. He was working in one of the most dangerous areas in the world. What kind of man would send an employee to a death trap? David King is ruthless.”
Sheba couldn’t believe the hateful words written in the article. “They are the ones who are ruthless. We just buried our son, and they are writing stories like this.”
Sheba was livid. Although it was true that little David was David’s biological son, only two other people knew it besides themselves, so the reporter was just speculating.
“I’ll call someone and get them to retract the story,” David said.
“Don’t bother. I’m just overreacting. We both know that little David was yours, and it’ll only make them try to dig into our past more. What’s that saying? ‘Let sleeping dogs lie.’”
David said, “The reporter who wrote that story is as good as fired. The owner of the paper owes me a favor.”
“Oh, you got it like that?” Sheba smiled.
“Baby, I’m the king, so you better know it.”
“Well, as soon as your queen is up to it, she can’t wait to hit the malls. I need some retail therapy, something to keep my mind off all this.”
David got up and returned with an iPad. “In the meantime, let your fingers do the shopping.”
“Do I have a limit?” Sheba asked.
David looked up at the sky through the window. “The sky’s the limit.” He winked his eye at her and then left her alone.
Sheba scanned several sites and had a difficult time making a purchase. Things were different now that she was able to buy whatever she wanted and never had to worry about money. But she would give it all up if she could have her son back.
“I’m going to think happy thoughts,” she said out loud.
She clicked on several Web sites and made purchases with the credit card David had given her when she first moved to Dallas. She chose clothes that were just a few sizes larger than her regular size, since she had gained weight from her pregnancy. Surprisingly, some of the baby weight had already started to drop off her body.
Her hand went to her stomach, to the empty place that used to house her baby. “Lord, please look after my little baby.”
After shopping, Sheba turned on the television and was appalled at some of the comments coming from someone who was supposed to be a well-respected journalist. Why were they concerned about David’s love life? So what if he had fathered her child? It was their business and their business alone.
She was grieving and shouldn’t have to deal with the foolishness of these reports, which seemed to be the talk of the town. The phone rang, so she turned the volume down on the television. Delilah’s number displayed on the caller ID.
Without saying hello, Delilah blurted out, “I thought I was scandalous, but, girl, you got me beat.”
“Not you, too,” Sheba said, frustrated beyond belief.
“I saw it on my favorite talk show this morning. I started to call you then.”
“Glad you didn’t.”
“Well, I think you should know that I’ve been contacted by several reporters wanting the scoop.”
“Delilah, you didn’t? Please tell me you’re not the source.”
“Of course not, dear sister. I would never betray you like that.”
Sheba sighed. “It would hurt me to find out that you are the one leaking information. Tell me now, because the truth always comes out.”
“Sheba, I promise you, I’m not the one. But if you ask me, it is probably Joyce. I wouldn’t put nothing past her. I saw her in a new ride last week, and didn’t you tell me she lost her job?”
“Yes,” Sheba responded.
“Well, I think she’s the link and someone paid her to tell her story,” Delilah speculated.
“Glad you told me. I have a phone call I need to make.” Sheba was livid.
“What are you going to do?” Delilah asked.
“Let’s just say I’m about to handle some business.” Sheba clenched her teeth.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Delilah said.
“No need to worry about that.”
Sheba disconnected the phone call with Delilah and dialed Joyce’s number from memory.
“Hello,” Joyce answered.
“This is Bathsheba Baker King, and I advise you to keep my name out of your mouth.” Sheba didn’t try to hide her anger.
“Sheba, so now you want to talk,” Joyce said, with sarcasm in her voice.
“For someone who claims to have loved their cousin, you sure are going about it the wrong way.”
“I loved Uriah. He was like a brother to me. You’re the one who didn’t love him. While he’s off risking his life, working, you’re whoring around with his boss. That’s scandalous.” Joyce raised her voice.
“No. What’s scandalous is you telling lies to reporters for money,” Sheba responded. Joyce remained silent. Sheba continued, “Yes, you thought I wouldn’t find out. You’re the source. Uriah would be appalled that you’re tarnishing his image the way that you are.”
“Oh no, sister, don’t blame me for your mistakes.”
“What goes on with my body is my business and mine alone. Not yours or anyone else’s in your nosy family.”
“See? That’s why I never liked you. You always thought you were better than us.”
Sheba responded, “You better be glad I’m a Christian, or I would purposely drive to Shreveport and commence to whupping your—” Before Sheba could finish, she heard the phone click. “Oh no, she didn’t just hang up on me.” Sheba pressed REDIAL. This time she got Joyce’s voice mail.
She waited for the tone and said, “Don’t think this is over. If you talk to another reporter, I will sue you for slander, and that new car you just got will be mine.”