Prayers of the Innocent

By Cynthia Weaks

An intriguing and suspense-filled novel, Prayers of the Innocent is based on a true story of fraud and exploitation. The crimes occurred at historically black colleges in the south. The story follows a young college student who unwittingly is caught-up in bank fraud that leads to racketeering, sexual exploitation and theft. She only wanted a job to earn extra money. She did not consider the consequences she would have to pay to get it. Prayers of the Innocent is a story of fear, compassion and a need to protect. It is a story you will not forget.

"Factually correct, accurate depiction of events leading to the arrest and prosecution of the perpetrator of these crimes. Thank you for your time in helping inform others of the downfalls that can arise by associating with 'con-men'."

--Don Keller, Sgt., Baton Rouge Parish Sheriff's Department

"A measuring stick or barometer for all students - female or male - to use when it comes to fraud."

--Robert Bennett, Student Affairs Director, Southern University, Baton Rouge, LA.

--"It is not often that real-life is like an intense crime drama, but that's exactly what you'll find in Prayers of the Innocent. True Innocence meets true Evil between its covers, and a mother's heart follows it all."

--King Hoover, Host/Books in Review, CCTV CH-31, Fort Worth, TX

"A story every parent, student, college and university staff member should read; a real page-turner. Ms. Weaks has done us a favor by revealing such a deceptive act."

--Margaret Burroughs, Author, Life Lessons for the Christian Journey

"I could not put it down. A very interesting story, Cynthia did a wonderful job telling the story in such a vivid manner. This should be a great seller."

--Valarie Hatcher, Manager, Visions Bookstore @ The Vessel & the Sista 2 Sista Bookclub

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 3, 2007
• ISBN: 9781467828772

Cynthia Weaks

(photo)  Cynthia Weaks is extremely proud of her freshman literary work, Prayers of the Innocent.  Finding her daughter unintentionally involved in criminal activity broke her heart, but strengthen her resolve to find the real criminal.  Weaks is owner and director of The Little Teapoat Daycare Center, founded in Fort Worth in 1993; and president of Banks Entertainment, a company founded by her eldest daughter.  Weaks is a wife, a mother of four daughters, has one grandchild and is a long-time Fort Worth resident. (Banks Entertainment logo) www.thebanksentertainment.com

Book preview

Prayers of the Innocent

by

Cynthia Weaks

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AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

500 Avebury Boulevard

Central Milton Keynes, MK9 2BE

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2009 Cynthia Weaks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 7/20/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4343-0891-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-2877-2 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007904043

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Prologue

CHAPTER

I

CHAPTER

II

CHAPTER

III

CHAPTER

IV

CHAPTER

V

CHAPTER

VI

CHAPTER

VII

CHAPTER

VIII

CHAPTER

IX

CHAPTER

X

CHAPTER

XI

CHAPTER

XII

CHAPTER

XIII

CHAPTER

XIV

CHAPTER

XV

CHAPTER

XVI

CHAPTER

XVII

CHAPTER

XVIII

CHAPTER

XIX

CHAPTER

XX

CHAPTER

XXI

CHAPTER

XXII

CHAPTER

XXIII

CHAPTER

XXIV

CHAPTER

XXV

CHAPTER

XXVI

CHAPTER

XXVII

Epilogue

The Mad Parent Corporation

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all the young college students that lived with the fear that no one would ever know their story.

To my three daughters, ShaVonne, Andrea and Cortney.

To my wonderful, loving grandmother, Georgia Mae Thomas, who passed away in June 2006, at the young age of 98.

To my wonderful, loving grandmother, Lorine, who I love very much.

To all my friends and family that prayed for me and gave me words of encouragement.

To my staff and students at The Little Teapot Daycare Center.

I love you all.

Acknowledgements

I thank God for all His grace. I am totally grateful to Him for allowing me to breathe and for giving me the time I needed and the love for my children to write this book.

I am glad that God had confidence in me to bless me with friends like Murray and Melanie Chumley, who saw my vision and were willing to help me put it into fruition.

I thank God for my best friend of twenty-one years, Ilene Maddox. I thank God for her support, her faith in me and for our friendship.

I thank God for my editors, Sharon Burkley and especially Minnie Taylor; my sweet niece, graphic art designer, Veronica Jones; and my mentor and long-time friend, David Edmonds.

Last, but very much at the top of my list is my loving, supportive, close-knit family. My husband, Terry; my mother and father, Sandy and Cornell; my older sister and her husband, Sandra and Larry; my younger sister and her husband, LaWanda and Stanley; my brother, Michael; my two nephews, Jared and Nicholas; my step-daughter, Teresa; and my little granddaughter, Kimora.

I love you all very much.

Foreword

The writer tells a compelling – and true – story of a horrific scam played out by a conniving playboy businessman" who manipulates young college-age women to fill his pockets and his (and others’) sexual desires. The scam clearly unfolds before the readers’ eyes, and should be an eye-opener for anyone who reads it.

The book also reveals the insightful and caring relationship a mother has with her teenage daughter who, despite her intelligence, proves to be very naive in an adult world where schemes are hatched by the second and find new victims every waking hour.

This is the kind of story that all college students – female or male – should read, for there are plenty of scam artists out there waiting to take advantage of these think-they-know-it-all and ready-to-take-on-the-world young people."

Bob Ray Sanders,

Vice President/Associate Editor & Columnist,

Fort Worth Star-Telegram

Prologue

Oh my God! I screamed, as I watched it on TV. They found Kenneth! I shouted. I heard the news reporter announce, Acting on a tip from CrimeStoppers, police have found the suspect wanted on bank fraud, sexual exploitation, racketeering and a long list of other charges barricaded in a motel here in Kenner. I watched in anticipation, wondering if Kenneth would give up without a fight with the U. S. Marshals, or if there would be a shoot-out.

CHAPTER

V00_9781434308917_TEXT.pdf

I

It was barely 6:00 a.m. when my mother and I arrived at Southern University in Baton Rouge. I was excited and nervous all at the same time and I had been waiting for this day for weeks. This would be my first time living away from home. My sister, Shante, who attended Clark University in Atlanta, told me not to be nervous, make good choices, keep God first and I would be alright. I planned to do just that. Southern was my first choice of colleges. I chose it because I wanted to attend a historical Black college and I liked its band. Louisiana was a state I always wanted to live in; I especially liked it because it is known for crawfish and I love crawfish. Texas had been my home for 16 years. My family and I moved to Texas from Kansas City, Kansas when I was two years old and I had lots of memories from Texas. I was excited about creating new memories in Louisiana.

Last week, I had a going-away party with my friends and church members. It helped me to feel a little more at ease to know that I had the support of my friends and my family. My church even helped find a church to attend in Baton Rouge.

Last night, my mother and I packed the van with lots of new stuff for my dorm room and my new life at college. I wasn’t exactly sure of what I would need at school, so I probably over-shopped. I also packed my stuffed animals and family photos to help comfort the scared child in me, just in case I got homesick.

My mom and I got out of the van once we arrived at Southern. Looking over at her, I could see that she was exhausted from driving us the seven hours from Texas. How proud I was of my mother, Sidney, for struggling and working herself to the bone to get me here. My mother had always been determined that my sisters and I would have a college education and she focused her time and energy towards that goal. That day had come and I was about to move into the next phase of my life, one state away in Louisiana.

Mom and I went inside the Boley Hall dorm building, an old, well-worn building. It smelled like they had just put a fresh coat of paint on it and I could see that the floors had recently been waxed because they were shiny and clean, despite all of the traffic of the people coming in and out. While we stood in the long line to register and receive my dorm room key, I watched the other students and their families moving bags and boxes in and out of the building.

I glanced out the corner of my eye at my mom who was standing beside me in the line and wondered what she was thinking. My mother was looking around the room with a sad look on her face. At one point I thought I saw her get teary-eyed.

Finally, I got my key, Room 205C, second floor. We took the elevator up to the second floor to get to my new room. The second floor was crowded with students and their families. People were moving about and getting settled in. My room was three rooms to the right of the elevator, directly in front of the bathroom, the only one on the entire floor. How in the world can this school think that an entire floor of female suite-mates can share a bathroom with one toilet and one shower, I thought to myself. There were eight dorm rooms with two students in each room – this was going to be interesting.

My roommate, Kathryn, was already in the room when I got there. She had arrived the day before and had already chosen the right side of the room, completely settling herself in. Kathryn was my friend from Texas; we had been friends since our freshman year in high school. Kathryn and I had both chosen to go to Southern and to be roommates as well as sharing the same major, nursing.

The room was so small it appeared to be less than the size of a small one-car garage. I hope all my things will fit in this room, I thought to myself. The room had two small closets, two twin beds, two wall shelves, and a small dorm-sized refrigerator. Desks could not fit in the rooms, so there was a living room out in the hall and it was called a study area. The study area consisted of a couch, a love seat, and two desks…two desks for all sixteen suite-mates to share. This, too, was going to be interesting.

My mom and I unpacked my boxes, made several trips to the van and were exhausted from going in and out of the elevator and up and down the stairs. The elevator was sooooooooo slow because everyone was moving in at the same time. Three hours later, we finally finished unpacking and decorating my room. Sitting on my freshly made bed with my purple and yellow bed linens and comforter, we leaned our backs against the wall and had exhausted smiles of relief on our faces. Giving in to our hunger pains, we ate strawberry Pop Tarts and drank apple juice that we found in my supplies. As we ate, we didn’t say much; I guess we were in deep thought. I know I was thinking to myself, This is nice, sitting here with her; it will be Christmas, four long months away, before we have another moment like this.

CHAPTER

V00_9781434308917_TEXT.pdf

II

Shut Up! I yelled at the alarm clock as it went off at 6:00 am. Ugh, I don’t feel like getting up, I said to myself as I was yawning. My alarm clock looks like a jukebox from the movie Grease, with John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John. Every time the alarm goes off, it plays a different song from the movie. Today it’s playing We Go Together and I really didn’t want to hear Shoo bop shoo wadda wadda at 6:00 in the morning. I hit my alarm clock so hard I thought I broke it. I lay in bed about ten more minutes before I finally rolled my sleepy self out of my comfy bed with my fluffy pillows and warm, cuddly comforter.

My first class was at 7:00 a.m. I had taken my shower the night before to beat the morning rush, so all I had to do was run in the bathroom, wash my face and brush my teeth and I was done. I threw on my stone-washed jeans, pink shirt, and pink and white sandals. I took my headscarf off my head, fluffed up my do a little, grabbed my backpack, a blueberry muffin, and some orange juice out of the fridge and headed to class. As I headed to class, I thought despite the crazy, early wakeups, college life ain’t that bad.

Being in a nursing major had made my class load a little more hectic. In addition to hard classes like Anatomy, Microbiology, and Physiology, I also