Saving Face (The Bancrofts: Book 1)

By Brenda Barrett

Murder, Mystery, Romance at a Christian university.

When the sitting president of Mount Faith University, Edward Carlisle died mysteriously the race was on to find his replacement.

Taj Jackson was in the running for the presidency against a formidable opponent, the terrifyingly powerful Ryan Bancroft, a man to whom he has more than a passing resemblance...

Meanwhile, Natasha Rowe and her partner, Harry Campbell, were asked to go under cover to investigate the president's death. In the process of investigating, Natasha finds herself attracted to Taj Jackson, though he was on their list of suspects.

She also realizes that all is not what it appears to be at the school. There are secrets and lies; especially in the dead president's past and the line of suspects for his murder grows longer the more they dig.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brenda Barrett
• Release date: Jun 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9789769556652

Brenda Barrett

Books have always been a big part of life for Jamaican born Brenda Barrett, she reports that she gets withdrawal symptoms if she does not consume at least two books per week. That is all she can manage these days, as her days are filled with writing, a natural progression from her love of reading. Currently, Brenda has several novels on the market, she writes predominantly in the historical fiction, Christian fiction, comedy and romance genres.Apart from writing fictional books, Brenda writes for her blogs blackhair101.com; where she gives hair care tips and fiwibooks.com, where she shares about her writing life.

Book preview

Saving Face

By

Brenda Barrett

Published by Jamaica Treasures at Smashwords:

Copyright 2013 by Brenda Barrett

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*****

Discover other titles in The Bancroft Family Series:

Homely Girl

Tattered Tiara

Private Dancer

Goodbye Lonely

Practice Run

Sense of Rumor

A Younger Man

Just to See Her

*****

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Prologue

Annette couldn't believe that was it. She gazed at Ryan's scrawny back as he pulled on his clothes. Her mind tried to come to terms with the fact that she was no longer a virgin. She had given up her precious virginity for this. The romance books she had been reading told her that the world would move, her body would shatter into pieces, and she would feel complete. She was not feeling complete now. Instead, she was feeling a boatload of guilt, and the only thing that was shattered was her dignity.

Ryan turned around and stared at her. He was feeling uncertain as well. They were both just sixteen. They should have been at choir practice, but they had been practicing things of a different kind in his room, and now they were staring at each other, a bit shell-shocked.

Ryan cleared his throat. We should get going. Mommy will be home soon.

Annette widened her eyes in consternation. She only had to find her panty, which was somewhere on his wooden floor and pull down her skirt.

He had just hiked it up earlier, fumbled, and clumsily pushed his way into her. She winced as she got up from the bed. Her purity bracelet got caught in the sheets, and she tugged it free.

Ryan was wearing one as well, and the irony of the situation hadn't escaped him. They could no longer consider themselves members of the Purity Club at their church. They were no longer set apart by their refusal to conform to societal pressures regarding premarital sex. They were now just regular fornicators, just like those of his peers he had sneered at and pitied because of their lack of morality.

Come on! Ryan said harshly. He was hearing the stern voice of Sister Edna in his ear, and his guilt was multiplying rapidly because he saw tears in Annette's eyes.

How could one act, which lasted nearly a minute, be so devastating? It wasn't even that good. For one moment in time he had felt a rush of release so sweet, and then a slap of guilt so sharp he had rolled off Annette's prone body and turned his back to her. It wasn't even worth it, Sister Edna's voice said in his head. In his mind's eye, he could see his father, who was also a first elder, nodding in agreement.

Annette wasn't faring any better. She was castigating herself for stopping at Ryan's. They had been steadily dating for a year, and they hadn't gone much past chaste kisses on the cheek and innocent hand-holding until Ryan had gotten it into his head that he wanted to practice French kissing.

For several weeks they indulged themselves. Eventually, French kissing led to breast touching. She should have said something because she was not comfortable with the whole direction that they were taking into newer and sexier waters, but she had found it pleasant, and besides, that was not even what they called heavy petting.

Today when she came by to get her choir book from Ryan, it was the first time she had gone into his room. It was the first time they had attempted heavy petting, and it was the first time she had sex. The thought made her shudder.

Sex wasn't all that it was hyped up to be. Sister Edna, their youth leader, kept telling them, Wait and do it God's way. Don't listen to the echoing shouts of the world on the topic, but Annette had guiltily thought that Sister Edna was bitter in her outlook on sex because she was not getting any.

How wrong she was. It was not worth it if you felt like this afterward. No way was it worth it.

Where's the bathroom? she asked Ryan. She couldn't look him directly in the face.

Through there. He pointed to a door in the passageway. She grabbed her panty and walked gingerly toward it.

She hurriedly wiped up the wetness between her legs and then washed her face. There was a chipped mirror above the face basin. She tried to avoid staring at herself, but she could see that her neatly combed hair was sticking up all over her head. She fixed her hair and then rewashed her face.

She wished she had not done it. If only she could time travel, she would stay at the gate and call Ryan. When he came outside, she would have just asked him for the book. She would not have come inside his house. She would not have walked into his room and sat on his bed, or watched him while he got ready, or smiled pleasantly at him while he sat beside her, or opened her mouth for that dratted French kiss, or laid back on the bed while he leaned over her. She wouldn't have done any of that.

Chapter One

Interim President Ryan Bancroft pushed up his glasses on his nose bridge and gazed over at his senior staff. Twenty-five of them were gathered around the vast boardroom table that adjoined Ryan's new office.

He flicked imaginary lint off his Armani jacket, put on a purposefully sad expression that he had been practicing in front of the mirror this morning, and gazed at his colleagues.

It is a sad occasion. His voice was cultured and clipped. He had cultivated it to have the right inflection and the right phonetic lilt to make the hearer sit up and take notice. For years, he had worked on his accent so that it didn't have a trace of idiomatic slant clouding his otherwise smooth speech.

Our first meeting as senior staff here at Mount Faith Christian University without our enigmatic and fearless leader… He cleared his throat for the dramatic effect. We are deeply moved by his sudden passing. Personally, I almost felt paralyzed when I heard the news four weeks ago, but life has to go on, even while we mourn. In the meantime, as you have heard, I have been appointed your president in the interim. Apparently, three more candidates are being considered for the job by the Board of Trustees, so do not get too used to me being your president yet.

Polite laughter greeted this statement, and Ryan paused before he continued, Today we have a new man among our ranks, a doctor from the Behavioral Center in Florida. He is also in the running for president here at Mount Faith—Dr. Taj Jackson.

Every eye swung to look at Taj, who was sitting at the end of the table.

Taj smiled politely and then their attention was directed back to Dr. Bancroft, who cleared his throat impatiently.

"Dr. Jackson will be spearheading the new Psychiatry Center here at Mount Faith—a first of its kind on the island, where they will specialize in addiction and forensic psychiatry. The services will be available to staff and students. There will also be outpatient care services. It will also give our graduate students a place to practice and hone their skills.

If you ask me, I think this is a noble move, Dr. Jackson. I have no idea why you would even want to concern yourself with a position so unexciting as the presidency, with your hands so full at the center.

Polite laughter greeted that statement again, but Taj realized that Ryan Bancroft was not joking. He was looking at him with a serious gleam in his eyes.

Well, on to other business, Ryan said while he gathered his papers and looked at the vice presidents and deans that were seated before him. This was what he had worked for and wanted for the past twenty years: the presidency of a university. It was his dream since he first stepped on the grounds of the university. Now that his dream was so close, he did not intend on letting anybody snatch it from him.

He briefly glanced again at Taj Jackson, the young doctor. The poor lad still seemed to have stars in his eyes. He was just thirty. He remembered this from the dossiers that he had collected on him and the two other contenders for his position.

There was no way he would allow a young upstart like Taj Jackson to waltz into the university and take the plum position that he had been toiling toward for so long.

When Edward Carlisle finally had the sense to die, he had been filled with elation, and why not? Edward had just been a figurehead–a dummy president who did nothing to enhance the university or make it into the institution that it could be.

He had been content to sit back and go with the old way of doing things, walking around the campus in that vague way of his and doing mostly nothing. But Ryan had plans, big plans for the place.

He had not spent the last ten years at Mount Faith waiting for this moment to have somebody snatch it from him.

He made a mental note to thoroughly check out Taj Jackson. The other candidates were not really competition. He would not be leaving his future up to chance. Never again would he do something as stupid as that.

*****

Superintendent Garfield Greyson, Head of the Area Three Division police, leaned back in his office chair and looked at his two best detectives: Harry Campbell and Natasha Rowe.

I called you both in here because I have a problem.

Greyson steepled his fingers. The two detectives were dressed in plain clothes. They were coming from busting a drug shipment in the Western side of the island. The Area One superintendent had specially requested to have them on this case. They got results, and everybody knew it, including the Commissioner of Police, who also expressed a desire to have them on the case. Greyson had hoped that they would not be free because this was a run of the mill kind of case.

Have a seat. Have a seat. He indicated to two chairs in front of his desk. He had mountains of paper piled on one side. He pushed them aside so that he could see the detectives when they sat down.

You must have heard about the president at Mount Faith University suddenly dying of a heart attack.

The detectives nodded.

It was all over the news, Natasha said.

Well, what you may not know is that he was my mother's brother.

Your uncle, sir? Natasha asked her eyebrows going up. But he was young. How old was he again? Fifty?

Yes, my uncle. Greyson tapped his hand on the table. My mother's favorite brother. The Commissioner of Police has taken particular interest in the case because it is a high profile one. He handed me the docket and asked if you two were available. He wants a swift winding up of it. The Commissioner went over the autopsy report, and he has his suspicions. I have been going over the autopsy report and realize that there is something that is not right about this whole business.

He handed the report to Harry Campbell. What do you see wrong with the whole picture, Sergeant?

Harry perused the report; his eyebrows raised higher and higher until finally, he handed it to Natasha.

Natasha read it and then handed it back to Greyson. What are you thinking, sir?

I am thinking murder. Greyson pursed his lips. My uncle had high blood pressure, according to this report. His blood showed extremely high levels of potassium, otherwise called hyperkalemia, at the time of death. Why would a person who has high blood pressure take so much potassium, enough to knock himself out?

He shook his head. It doesn't make sense. I am thinking he was surrounded by several learned persons in the sciences who could inject him with the potassium, knowing that a heart attack would be the result.

Natasha leaned her head to one side. The report also said that regular and steady high doses of potassium could cause the problem, too.

Greyson grunted. And that's why the report says potential homicide. Somebody close to Edward Carlisle was out to get him. Somebody smart. He looked at his detectives. Somebody crafty, but little do they know that he has a nephew who will not stop until he finds the culprit.

He flung his hand wide. That school is a Christian institution, founded in the 1900s by Christian pioneers. They would turn in their graves if they knew what the school has come to. They have murderers and thieves, and who knows what else breeding up at that place.

Natasha and Harry looked at each other, their eyes asking the same thing: Is Greyson too emotionally involved in this case?

Two cases ago he had sent them on a wild goose chase on behalf a friend of his. That had come to naught, and they had wasted the department's time and money on a favor for a friend.

Er...sir... Natasha was the more outspoken of the two detectives. Are you sure that this is murder? Maybe your uncle took potassium without realizing the damage he would cause himself.

Harry cleared his throat. Maybe he was eating too many bananas.

Greyson growled. That's nonsense. He didn't like bananas. I know that from my childhood. Do you know we are almost the same age? We grew up together. We still would see each other regularly. I would know if he had been eating too many bananas.

And that is why I think we may be pursuing a dead end here, sir, Natasha said meekly.

Greyson rapped the desk in anger. I am done arguing this. It was murder. We are going to find the murderer and bring him to justice. You two, he said pointing at them, are going back to school. You are going to enroll at Mount Faith University for the semester. You have three months to solve this case.

But...but...sir, Harry stuttered, how on earth are we to find out the information that we need as students?

Figure it out, Greyson said. You two are my best detectives. If anyone can solve this, you can. Leave no stone unturned, you hear me? A person of my uncle's stature shouldn't go down like that.

Natasha swallowed. Sir, the first semester begins in two weeks! How on earth are we going to get admitted?

Leave it to me, Greyson said. I still have contacts at the school. I don't need to tell you two that this investigation is top secret, do I?

They both shook their heads.

Okay. Greyson waved them off.

Chapter Two

Natasha and Harry went to their poky office. They had two green iron desks jammed in there, two identical rusty file cabinets, and a fan in the corner that Natasha had taken from her home because