Dire Consequences: Dire Consequences, #1

By Maureen Brown

A turn from faith. A mother’s decision. A father’s loss. A daughter’s demise. A love denied.
Fear and desperation lead to secrets and lies. Attractive, twenty-eight year-old single mother, Celia Joseph, is forced to betray Mark Ramsey, the father of her 5 year-old daughter, Marissa. However, Lyn Ramsey, Mark’s obsessive wife, later finds out the truth and sets out to prove it to her obstinate husband.
After fleeing to Florida, Celia returns to Jamaica with Marissa and a deadly secret. She settles in May Pen, Clarendon, as far away as possible from Montego Bay and the Ramsey family. Because of her past and the secret she carries, she avoids a relationship with Kurt Daniels, a successful and determined lawyer who’d already formed a bond with Marissa.
Eventually Celia is caught in her own web and now the very lie she told returns to her like a boomerang. Tragedy rocks this busy town as innocent lives are lost and families are torn apart. Three women hold a secret that, unbeknownst to them, can heal broken hearts and re-unite a family that has been separated for nearly three decades.
Can Celia forgive herself because she was unable to protect her child this time? Only God’s love through Kurt Daniels, and Barbara Bell, a woman who comes to Celia’s aid at a time she needed it the most, can comfort her, restore her faith, and teach her to accept love again.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maureen Brown
• Release date: Jun 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9780993648007

Maureen Brown

Maureen Brown earned a diploma in Novel Writing with Winghill Writing School. She is a graduate of Layperson’s Bible College at Word of Faith International Christian Centre in Toronto. Other than her love of writing novels, Maureen also has a passion for writing poems, songs, short plays and greeting cards. Dire Consequences is her first published novel. Originally from Jamaica, Maureen now lives in Toronto with her daughter, Jhanelle.

Book preview

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths."

(Proverbs 3:5-6)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Heavenly Father, all glory belongs to You. Thank You for blessing me with this wonderful gift. I couldn’t have crafted this story without You. Even on days when I thought I couldn’t go on, You gave me the strength to continue. Thank You for the revelation and the wisdom.

To my mother, Norma Francis, thank you for your enthusiasm throughout this journey, and your impatience to hold my first novel in your hands. It was quite reassuring. Thank you for your support in so many ways. You are one of my biggest fans.

To my daughter, Jhanelle Jackson, you have so much faith in me. From the moment I told you that I was thinking of writing a book, and even before I tapped the first key, you called me a writer. Above all, thank you for reading my manuscript. Your critiques were few but major.

To my faithful and reliable mentor, editor and friend, Marie Stipanovics, thank you. You have been very patient with me throughout this long journey—from my writing assignments to the writing of this novel. Thank you for the encouragement you’ve given me in personalized cards, magazines, notes, and phone calls. I appreciate your effort to meet with me several times. For the many times that I have given up, thank you for your sincere reproofs.

To my dear niece, Deneil Brown, I thank you for your time, effort, and your loyalty. I will forever remember the part you played in bringing this work to life. Keep up the good work.

To my niece, Michelle, and my grand-niece, Janae Dawes: Thank you, Michelle, for your permission. Janae, I am very grateful to have you on my book cover. You’ve been very patient and humble during re-takes and cancellations. You did great!

To my niece, Carol Hammond, thank you for your time, effort, advice, and genuine criticisms. You have made an awesome difference in major areas of this project. I admire your enthusiasm and gutsy personality. Thank you for believing in me.

To my sisters, Pauline, Claudia, and Jackie, and to my brothers, Oral, Neville, and Franklin, thank you for your support.

To my sister-in-law, Nadia Brown, thank you for the information on your hometown, Mandeville, Jamaica. Your detailed input has shone much light on this area of my work.

I am pleased to mention my nephew, Leroy McKenzie Jr., (in Jamaica), who took the time in doing research on my home town, May Pen. Thank you for your quick and accurate responses. I am truly grateful for your effort and your dedication.

A big thanks to my author friends: Judy Powell—(Hot Chocolate and Hot Summer), Jennies M. Edwards—(God in My House and God in My Church), Yvonne Harriott—(Hide ‘n Seek and Hit ‘n Run), and Marjorie Gann—(Five Thousand Years of Slavery), who took the time from their busy schedules to answer some very tough questions. I am forever grateful also to my tutor, Joan Hall-Hovey—(The Abduction of Mary Rose, Chill Waters and Nowhere to Hide). Thank you for your precise tutoring, guidance and encouragement throughout my writing course with Winghill Writing School. Above and beyond, you have been a very patient and reliable mentor.

I wouldn’t have reached this point in my writing career without Winghill Writing School. I have gained the confidence to move from wanting to write, to having the knowledge and understanding to fulfill my passion and write my first novel. Because of Winghill’s remarkable and affordable in-depth Novel Writing course, I am now able to pursue my dreams to become a published author.

Thanks to my very precise, determined and dedicated photographer, Adrian Hackett, ([e-mail]). You have done a great job with my book cover photo and author photo. You put excitement into photo shoots! Looking forward to working with you again.

Special thanks to my book cover designer, Brian DaSilva, Digital Image & Web Designer, www.bdasilvadesign.com . Thank you for your patience and your time, and the special attention you put into creating an amazing book cover for me. I love your awesome work!

I am pleased to mention my former pastor, Robert Martin, and my present pastor, John Ward—(Word of Faith International Christian Centre, Toronto). Because of your profound teaching and guidance, I have a better understanding of the Word and more so, on the subject of faith and God’s will. I am wonderfully blessed to have you for my spiritual fathers.

Again, thank you ALL very much for the part you played in getting this novel out of my hands and into the hands of faithful, avid readers. Last but not least, to the Person who is reading this book, I thank you very much for your support.  

Blessings!

CHAPTER 1

Guilt gnawed at her soul and shame mocked her. Twenty-eight year-old single mother, Celia Joseph, had no idea her little girl was hurting. While she waited to hear what was troubling her five year-old daughter, Marissa Ramsey, her thoughts went into fast forward mode. What does he know about my daughter that I don’t know? Is anyone hurting her...again? Or...is someone...molesting her? Oh, God, please, not this. Not my baby. I have done everything I could already to protect her...even breaking the law. Her heart fluttered rapidly like a frightened bird’s wings. Why didn’t she come to me instead of going to her Sunday school teacher? 

Celia sat across from handsome Kurt Daniels, attorney-at-law, and Marissa’s Sunday school teacher in his lush air conditioned office. Clad in white, light linen pants, she pressed her fists gently into her thighs to steady them. Her cotton, turquoise blouse, and the cool air couldn’t tame the rising heat in her body. She was careful not to make eye contact. Although she’d tried to avoid him for the past two years, he still managed to have significant reasons to see her. The last time they’d shared a table was on better, more comfortable terms. Since then, she’d stayed clear of him.

I’ve been so careful, she thought. What does he know? What did he find out? Oh, God! I hope it’s not about that Florida thing. I thought we’d be safe here in May Pen. I thought using my mother’s maiden name would have made a difference.

Celia had been homesick. She couldn’t hide away in Florida with a child forever. When her best friend, Dawn Freeman, confirmed that all seemed well, Celia returned to Jamaica. She had decided to test the waters, and try May Pen, Clarendon, first. Marissa’s father, Mark Ramsey, wouldn’t need to go there. He never did business in May Pen. Celia thought that living a private life, she could get lost in one of the busiest towns on the island. There, she could figure out a way to live with the ‘haunting situation’ that had driven her to Florida in the first place. But soon, Kurt Daniels noticed her, and he was smitten.

Even when Kurt made those many unscheduled visits to TR Financial to see Celia’s boss, Terrence Rodney, she kept busy. She appreciated the fact that her work area wasn’t an open concept. She knew that most of his visits were only an excuse to see her. Six months ago, she was forced to work with him for two whole weeks. The company was faced with a legal matter, and Kurt readily managed the case. It was the longest two weeks of her life. His penetrating brown eyes seemed to be able to search her heart and read her thoughts.

Are you comfortable, Ce...Miss Joseph? Kurt asked with a half-smile as he tried to lighten the mood. Would you like something to drink before we start?

Celia steadied her shaking hands in her lap. She was grateful that he couldn’t see them. No, thanks, let’s get this over with, please. I...I want to get home to Marissa very soon.

As instructed, Kurt got straight to the point. Marissa has a lot on her mind. She is very worried about you. He glanced at his scanty notes in front of him and then back up at her. She told me that lately you’ve been very sad and sometimes you look a bit scared.

Celia knitted her brow. Marissa said that?

Yes. She said she wished you were happy like Kadeen’s mother and listen like she does. Kurt spoke in a careful tone. She said that...um sometimes when she’s talking or reading to you, you’re not really listening.

Celia’s face burned with embarrassment. She shifted in her seat and fixed a few strands of her long black hair behind her ears. She knew Marissa was right about her friend’s mother. Susan Reid was one of the most jovial women she’d ever known. Celia sometimes wondered how she managed a home with four children, and ran a business all under the same roof. Still, she didn’t know her five year-old had such admiration for her friend’s mother, and would even compare her to her own. Why...why would she think that?

I asked her the same question. Kurt rested his elbow on the dark mahogany desk and twirled a pen between his thumb and forefinger. She explained it the best way she could. What I gathered from her was that sometimes you looked nervous...pre-occupied maybe.

Celia pressed her teeth into her lower lip and stared at the beige wall behind Kurt. A grandfather clock on his left ticked rapidly. It was almost 4:30. Marissa should finish her patterning exercise by now. No doubt her daughter was a very smart girl, but it seemed that she had underestimated her. Celia was fighting a silent war on the inside. She didn’t think anyone would notice it on the outside, not even her little girl. My dear child, I didn’t know you were paying attention. I have to do something. You cannot go on living like this. You’ve been through enough. But where do I start? I can’t lose you to your father after all this. We’ve come too far.

Celia’s mind drifted back to the day when she first met Mark Alan Ramsey. It was at a Christmas concert in St. Catherine, her hometown. She was twenty-two years old, and was finally able to fully emerge from under her mother’s firm ‘wings.’ She had sung the song, My Grown Up Christmas List, and danced solo to the song, Mary’s Boy Child by the group, Boney M. Celia had the congregation on their feet with bursts of applause and encores. Everyone fell in love with her beautiful performance. As for a certain young man visiting from Montego Bay, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

While she was on a break in the church yard, Mark introduced himself to Celia and complimented her on her excellent talent. She took a liking to the impressionable and intelligent young man. They connected right away, and had spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other. Their relationship blossomed over time. After she had fallen in love with him, she introduced him to her mother. Coming from a Christian home, she knew that her adoptive mother would have opposed their relationship.

Nola Joseph-Long, a widow and a devoted Christian, had cautioned Celia not to date Mark. She told her that she should not rush into a relationship with the first man she met. Instead, she should wait until she knew the plans God had for her. Celia objected. She was convinced that Mark was the perfect man for her. Nola said that she did not trust Mark. She thought that he was hiding something from Celia. Celia accused her mother of being judgmental. After many attempts of reaching her defiant daughter, Nola let go of the subject.

‘I should have listened to my mother’ had been Celia’s lament for the past six years. Unfortunately, they had taken their relationship too far, and she soon found herself pregnant. Before she had a chance to break the news to Mark, he’d dropped a bombshell on her. His ex-fiancée, Lyn Wilcox, had returned to him in hopes of salvaging their relationship. She too was pregnant and hadn’t known until after she had walked out on him. Mark told Celia that he would have to marry Lyn for the sake of their baby. Hurt and ashamed, Celia walked away quietly. Mark later learned of her pregnancy from her mother.

Celia turned her head toward the window that overlooked Main Street. The rain beat heavily against the window panes like spilled marbles on concrete. It pounded on the slow moving traffic like a giant car wash. It had started to drizzle just before 8 a.m. with heavy sporadic showers up until about 2 p.m. Celia took solace in knowing that Marissa and Kadeen were home safe. Their school’s dismissal time was at 2:15. The rainstorm hadn’t started again until sometime after 3 p.m. Today, they didn’t have to wait over an hour for Kadeen’s fourteen year-old brother, Anthony, to walk them home. Susan would always pick them up early on days like these.

Celia blinked her eyes to ward off the tears that threatened to come. She did not want to cry, not in Kurt’s presence. She knew that if she started crying, she would be weeping over years of pain. She turned her head again to face him without directly looking at him. How could she? For months he’d been her constant pursuer, but today it seemed he was more her accuser. She never cared for his perpetual charm, or so she thought. Today, she had no choice being in his presence. It was important that she knew what was troubling Marissa. Celia was relieved that the news wasn’t anything like what she had thought. She couldn’t handle her daughter being taken advantage of. Still it wasn’t good news. A concern like this from a five-year-old was major.

Kurt cleared his throat and sat up straight in his brown leather chair. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it? He waited for an answer and when none came, he continued. Or, if you don’t want to talk to me, I could introduce you to someone.

Celia longed to clear her conscience of her haunting dilemma. She needed to talk to someone who would understand why she’d made that choice four years ago. She couldn’t tell someone who was on the right side of the law. He wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t sure she could trust him not to judge her or even go to the authorities. All she needed was solid advice that could help her get out of the web she was trapped in. It was suffocating her. Not even her best friend knew the extent of her worry. Dawn was only aware of the situation she had faced and the choice she’d made thereafter. Why burden her with something she’d clearly warned her not to do?

She lowered her gaze. No, thanks, I’ll be fine. I just need to get home to Marissa and make things right with her. She looked up at him. Is there anything else?

Um, yes, he said hesitantly. Marissa said that she would like to know her dad. He scanned his notes, and then he looked back up at her. She said that whenever she asks about him, you change the subject, or you promise to search for him on the internet but you never do.

She said that? I wouldn’t think...  I...I can’t imagine... she stammered. Silence then filled the room between her shock and her hesitation to continue.

Kurt pinched his chin with his thumb and forefinger. While we’re on the subject, I should tell you this. He relaxed his shoulders and pressed his back against the chair. A few weeks ago at our church picnic, Marissa asked my partner, Vern Marshall, if he was a lawyer too. He told her that he was a private investigator. She asked him to explain what it meant, and when he did, she asked him if he could find her lost daddy.

Celia stared at Kurt with her mouth open for what seemed like minutes. Her eyes stung with oncoming tears, and her face felt flushed. Oh, no...not Vern Marshall.

Um, there’s more.

Her shoulders fell. How much more could she handle? How much worse could it get? Marissa is dealing with too much. She is just five years old. What kind of mother am I not to notice? She willed herself to stay strong as she prepared for what was left to come. Now both her legs and hands were shaking.

Kurt passed his hand over his smooth-shaved head. I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to present this to you but...Marissa is deeply concerned. She is seeking answers. She asked me if you were in trouble, and if you’ll ever be happy again. He paused and let out a sigh. She wants to know if you are mad at her, and what she can do to make you happy.

Celia’s gasp was quick. She took a quick glance at Kurt and wanted to disappear from his presence. Her eyelids eventually surrendered. The warm liquid streamed easily down her smooth, dark brown cheeks. Kurt handed her a Kleenex but she was in no hurry to use it. She was somewhat grateful for the teary veil. She didn’t have to look into his eyes. At least, she didn’t have to see a possible smirk on his face, now that he knew that she wasn’t the ideal woman whom he’d found so desirable.

Here she was sitting across from the very person that she’d vowed to stay away from, yet he still managed to have a sneak peek into her life. What else would he uncover? Did Marissa willingly share this information with him, or did he question her? Would he dig deeper and find out the truth? She lowered her head on her right arm on the desk, and sobbed. My poor baby, I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to hurt you, she said, her shoulders jerking with every stifling cry.

Kurt leaned forward. I’m very sorry. Do you want to talk about it? I am willing to help you, if you would let me. He reached across the desk and touched her hand gently. She did not respond. You’re a good mother, Celia, and I know that you love your daughter.

She snatched her hand from under his and stood up suddenly. No, you’re just saying that. She shook her head. A good mother does not allow her child to go through so much pain. She picked up her purse from the chair next to hers, and headed toward the door. She had to get away fast.

Kurt stood and moved away from the desk. Celia, I don’t think you should drive under these circumstances. He looked toward the window at the shallow sea that held May Pen hostage, and then back at her. And especially in this kind of weather, he continued. He followed her as she walked out into the brightly-lit hallway. Why don’t you let me take you home? I can have your car delivered to you later.  

Celia moved as fast as her six-inch stilettos could sustain her long, forceful strides. At five-foot-eight, she wished she had taken Dawn’s advice and wear flats sometimes. She could have gotten out of Kurt Daniels’ sight faster. I’ll be fine, she said without looking back. I just want to be alone right now. As she walked down the hall she could still sense his presence at the door. She knew his eyes stayed on her until she was out of sight.

CHAPTER 2  

Celia couldn’t get home fast enough. With the heavy October rain tap dancing on her car windshield, the wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour. Her vision was blurred by tears which made it even more difficult to see the road ahead. How could I have missed the signs? she mumbled, as she wiped her tears with the Kleenex Kurt had given her. I’m a terrible mother. She thought about her own mother, Nola. Celia was missing her more than ever since her sudden passing four years ago. If only she had her mother to share her pain with her.  

She was reluctant to meet with Kurt Daniels after she had read the note that Marissa brought home from church. What does he want from me now? she had grumbled under her breath so her daughter wouldn’t hear. I hope this is not another one of his little serenading schemes because I’m not interested. He sent another note a week later to confirm that she would see him. Celia had no choice but to comply. His message was clear: Miss Joseph, it is imperative that you meet with me ASAP, for Marissa’s sake.

She rested her elbow on the edge of the car window and stroked her long hair slowly. While she stared beyond the bed of cars that lined Main Street, her thoughts wandered. All I wanted to do was protect my baby. I did it for her sake and yet it’s affecting her. She’s already deprived of the life she had, and...and...her freedom. She pressed her fingers against her temples. I’m so sorry, Marissa. I failed you. Car horns honked impatiently behind her and startled her back to the present. She re-focused her attention on the road through a mist of rain mingled with tears.

It was rainy season in Jamaica and some parishes, including Clarendon, were experiencing heavy downpours. The forecast had predicted possible flooding in May Pen and surrounding areas. The rain was coming faster than the streets could drain its deposits. Her car tires struggled against the water’s current which made it even more difficult for the car to move along in the already-busy Friday evening commute.

Celia fought to rid her mind of what she’d just heard. She knew Kurt’s reputation as not only an outstanding and successful lawyer, but also as a child advocate. Part of her understood why her daughter would confide in him. Marissa talked about him as if he was the only male figure at church. According to what Susan had told her, Kurt treated Marissa as if she was his daughter, and some people actually asked if he was her father.

Kurt was a great listener. He was also mentor to some boys on the street from very poor families. They gravitated toward him for the occasional high five or a friendly chat. He sometimes helped them with difficult homework or a project. The odd time, he treated them to lunch or dinner, or gave them money for school outings. But they loved him more for his fatherly advice and affection toward them.

As Celia thought about what Kurt had told her, her heart melted for her little girl. Marissa was too young to carry such a heavy burden. She wondered if there was anything else her daughter could have kept from her. The tears—which seemed as determined as the rain—came again. Celia fought to keep her emotion under control. She needed to focus.

A horn from a truck sounded a warning behind her. Seeing she was a couple of inches from slamming into the car in front of her, she hit the brakes. Her Toyota Avalon spun slightly and screeched to a halt. It reminded her of the life they once lived that had stopped suddenly. She longed for the freedom and the peace that they once had. She tried to tuck away her nagging thoughts and focus on the road, but they kept attacking her like flying darts.

Celia rummaged through her purse for her cell phone, but it wasn’t there. Her mind suddenly brought her back to last night. Marissa had spilled a glass of milk on it, ruining it. With the absence of her phone, she was unable to call Susan to tell her she was on her way home. Because she had left work an hour early, she hadn’t told her that she was going to meet with Kurt. She didn’t think the meeting and the rain would have kept her that long.

Finally, the rain subsided. Grey-stained clouds amidst a faint spray of yellow and orange colors threatened to pour out more rain. Celia noticed that some pedestrians had closed their umbrellas, and were enjoying the light sprinkle. She lowered her window an inch to let in some fresh air. The still-damp air smelled stale and raw. Dead earthworms and frogs who dared to leave their safe abode, lined the paved sidewalk and road. The traffic had eased some. It wouldn’t be long before she would reach home and pick up her daughter.

Celia leaned over and felt through the glove compartment for her CD case. Maybe the smooth sound of Bob Marley’s voice in the song, Three Little Birds, would make her feel better. It’s the song that she had taken comfort in for the past four months. She needed it to reassure her that everything would be all right. The CD case was not there. She remembered. It was at home on her night table. The CD was in her stereo where she had left it. She’d been playing the same song last night that she desperately wanted to hear now.

She turned on the radio and searched the stations for any soothing songs that could calm her. There was a news flash on about the heavy downpour, flooding in parts of May Pen, uprooted trees...Please! She let out a frustrated sigh as she turned off the radio. I don’t want to hear any more depressing news. I just want to get out of this rain and go home to my child.

Marissa was hurting more than she was aware. Yes, she would go home and start over with her only child. She would come forward with the truth for her daughter’s sake. She had to right the wrong that she’d done four years ago before it was too late.

●●●●●●

After ending the call she had made to her daughter’s school, Susan Reid’s mind couldn’t stand still. She had called to tell the girls’ teacher, Miss Jennings, that she was running a little late picking up Kadeen and Marissa. Her sixteen month-old and nine year-old girls had come down with stomach flu. Twice, before leaving the house for the school, one of the girls had an accident.

She couldn’t understand why Anthony would pick up the girls without the teacher’s knowledge. Miss Jennings told Susan that she had taken a child to the bathroom. When she returned, Kadeen, Marissa and Stacey Pryce, were gone. Stacey’s mother, Patricia, usually picked her up. Susan paced her living room in deep thought. Could she have given Marissa and Kadeen a ride home? But they live just beyond the bridge close to the school. They’ve never driven the girls home before. I can’t imagine she’d do that without first calling me.

As a work-at-home business woman, the thirty-four year old seamstress couldn’t leave her work every day to get her children at school. Both Anthony and Celia knew the rules about picking up the girls. Anthony was assigned the daily task while on his way home from school. If there was an emergency, Susan would pick them up. Celia would sometimes get the girls and take them for ice cream, but she always made arrangements with Susan the night before.

Susan tried to pray but she couldn’t form the words. All she could mutter was please, God. Please, God. Please, God. It was storming mad outside and inside. Loud thunder resounded throughout the whole house like an earthquake. Susan rushed back and forth to her daughters’ room to comfort them after each burst of thunder. Angry flashes of lightening lit up the living room periodically. Inside, her heart took breaks between beats.

She stared out the window for the hundredth time looking for any sign of her son or

Reviews for Dire Consequences

[PaulineWitter · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow! Amazing read! I couldn't put the book down. I look forward to reading more books from this author.