Elizabeth's Journey

By Rhoda Fegan

Elizabeth is a young woman, damaged by a high school friend’s betrayal, who is determined to earn her law degree. When the need to save her mother’s life and the family home threatens, she marries Ian King instead of turning to God. Her marriage has many bittersweet turns, and only when she is in jail for Ian’s murder does she turn to God. But hell is not pleased to lose her soul. The defense leans on God, the prophet Elijah, who has his own story to tell, and an elderly parishioner, named Alice, to have its day in court.

The real murderer confesses, “Yeah...the great Ian King is a dead man...just walked away from his useless body,”

This is the story of how Elizabeth Adams King came to Christ. The book shows how unseen demons manipulated her life in an effort to destroy it for all eternity, and how unseen angels fought for her day of salvation. It shows also, how her life impacted the other people in the story.

Dear reader, you will see just how much God loved Elizabeth, and us. You will see how her life and our lives are never beyond His redemptive power.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716808920

Book preview

Elizabeth’s Journey

Rhoda Fegan

Author of

ISBN 978-1-71680-892-0

2nd Edition

Elizabeth’s Journey 2nd Edition

© 2020 Rhoda Fegan

All Rights Reserved

I dedicate this book to my family, to those who remain with me here, and to those who are waiting for me in the heavenlies. To John, my late husband and love, who shared my heart and life.

With praise to Jesus Christ whose death, burial, and resurrection bought for us the gift of salvation and eternal life. And to God, our Father, who created us as eternal beings who will one day take up our eternal glorified bodies. Finally, I give my praise to the Holy Spirit who lives inside of me and is my GPS to my eternal home.

Rhoda Fegan

Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God. —1 John 4:1a¹

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it. —Hebrews 13:2¹

¹ The Ryrie Study Bible, New American Standard Translation, 1976, 1978 by The Moody Bible Institute of Chicago.

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Adams slid into the solitary seat left vacant near the stage just as the audience hushed. She listened as Professor Knight introduced the guest speaker who had prompted her return to the campus of OSU where she had struggled to earn her prelaw degree.

We are honored this evening to have a highly respected alumnus address us. Many of you hold our speaker as a model you wish to emulate. I encourage each of you to strive to obtain his well-earned reputation.

Elizabeth’s mind wandered as Ian King’s academic and professional credits were recited. She felt at home in this building. She hadn’t sat in one of these well-worn seats for more than a year. To get into law school, she had worked three jobs—sixty hours a week at times—and she had ruthlessly counted every penny in her room at Larson’s Boarding House. Elizabeth went home only once to visit her family to save money. And her cost-saving efforts meant communicating with them only through e-mails to save on cell phone charges. But the sacrifice was worth it. By fall, she would be able to start law school, provided she worked her full-time job, kept her grants and scholarships, and was able to borrow the rest of the school fees.

As you may know, or will learn, one of Professor Knight’s seminars is on Ethical Issues in Defending the Guilty. So I wasn’t surprised when he suggested it to me as a topic for tonight. Ian turned and smiled at the professor. Elizabeth enjoyed the warmth of his smile, as she tried to focus her attention on him. I thought about picking a different subject. He said I might. But I wanted to honor Professor Knight’s request. I also had to admit to myself that my position on the topic has changed, since I first started practicing law and as my experience and reputation have grown.

Elizabeth grimaced at the man’s self-approval. Certainly, she wanted a fine reputation, but if she couldn’t pay for law school, she’d never be an attorney. She smiled in self-enjoyment as she remembered those who said she wouldn’t even be able to get through college. Mrs. Cornell, her high school guidance counselor, was singing a different tune now. Elizabeth was now an inspirational example to those Mrs. Cornell found to be as financially unfortunate. She knew Mrs. Cornell still felt confident in her prediction that she couldn’t afford law school. Elizabeth mused about finally passing the bar. Yes, with hard work and a debt to repay over half her life, she could be the alumnus asked to speak.

So yes, the guilty deserve to be defended. Elizabeth refocused her attention on Ian King. He was a little more than six feet tall with blue eyes easily seen from where she sat, more striking though was the thick thatch of his gray-white hair. Elizabeth knew he was thirty-eight from his bio, and he obviously took excellent care of his body, so the gray-white hair was hereditary or premature. His flat abdomen, broad shoulders, and high energy spoke of a man much younger than his actual years. Elizabeth knew his appearance, reputation, and high-paying career made him a most desirable bachelor. But she quickly tossed the knowledge aside as she wasn’t looking for a man, but to earning her law degree.

Some attorneys say the key to defending a client is to never ask if he or she is guilty or innocent. I’ve tried this, and I find it makes defending a client a harder task. It is the task of each member of the legal system to reveal the truth. You might take note that truth comes in three versions yours, mine, and theirs. The audience chuckled, and Elizabeth smiled. The truth can be ugly. Crime scene photographs used to bother my sleep, and in my dreams, I’d try to change what I’d seen. Elizabeth saw a shadow pass over Ian’s face as something of the darkness, the evil reflected in the photographs he remembered crossed his face. In the morning, the conditions of the victims remained unchanged, as did my job, as will your job. Ian paused and took a sip of water.

To defend an accused client, to prepare a defense, you must understand what drove your client to the act. We call it motive. Not all motives, though they may apply to your client, will fit the situation. Your client may indeed be innocent, but innocence is not a defense in itself. There are innocent people in our prisons. But if your client is innocent, someone else is guilty, and the best defense, just like any good legal show is for the defense attorney to uncover the guilty party. Ian grinned broadly. And it’s certainly would be a good career move if you get the guilty person to confess in open court.

As Ian waited for the audience’s chuckles to subside, Elizabeth’s mind wandered back to her freshman year in high school. She’d stopped at Christie’s house, her best friend since first grade, for her ride to school. As usual, the Morgans’ affluent home was a chaotic beehive. Prior to that awful morning, Mrs. Morgan had periodically accused Elizabeth of taking cigarettes, makeup, or other things she didn’t use. She and Christie had always laughed off the accusations.

That morning, the quiet laughter was brief. Elizabeth was accused of taking a five-dollar bill off the laundry room counter where it had been left to dry with some other laundered bills. Mrs. Morgan had searched her backpack and pockets and did find a total of five dollars. There had been three ones, and a lot of change her family had pooled together for a class outing. But despite her protests, lack of evidence, and other unsearched suspects, Mrs. Morgan found her guilty.

Christie had vocally defended her on their ride to school. Elizabeth remembered clearly how Christie had even laughed with her about her crazy mother at school. So Elizabeth once again shook off the groundless accusation, even though it had felt different this time.

Standing on the Morgan doorstep the next morning, Elizabeth’s world was quickly devastated. Mrs. Morgan had scolded her for having the nerve to return to their home. The slamming of the once friendly door in her face had left her hurt, confused, and angry on her long walk to school. Her life was never the same after Christie spread her mother’s version of the story around school. Elizabeth remembered walking alone through halls and having students gesture toward her in conversation. Other students snubbed her outright by turning their backs on her as she walked by. Her worse memory was walking into a classroom loud with chatter to have it fall silent as she took her seat.

Christie’s abandonment of their friendship meant no more shared confidences; no sleepovers, no shopping, and no more car rides. Their mutual friends sided with Christie, and Elizabeth soon found she had no friends of her own to stand beside her against Christie and her family’s generosity. So she learned to walk on alone holding her head high, saving her tears for her bedroom to spare her family. Her freshman year was a daily dose of misery as she rode the bus to and from school alone, ate lunch alone, and was ignored by kids she once thought her friends.

Elizabeth’s sophomore year started out in the same old pattern. But a bus trip to an art museum ended some of her misery. She had taken a seat by herself and watched as David Masters, Christie’s recently jilted boyfriend, decided where to sit. He stopped beside her seat, and a hush fell over the bus as her classmates hoped for some cruel joke to be played at her expense. She could still see David as he turned, looked the bus over, and spoke before taking the seat beside her.

We all know Elizabeth. She’s poor, not a thief. I believe her.

David hadn’t become a friend, but he and many of the others, except Christie and her groupies, began treating her as if the accusation had never happened. Now sitting in the auditorium, a small, friendly voice pricked her conscience with regret over never allowing any of them to get close to her. From practice, she easily ignored the small, friendly voice as a persistent, bitter one reminded her that trusting anyone could end in similar pain. Ian’s emphasis on his next phase abruptly brought Elizabeth back to the present.

"Ask your clients, if they’re innocent, and if you can believe them, proceed to treat them as innocent. If they are guilty and admit it, you still have options. Lawyers are contracted employees with law degrees paid to use their special skills, knowledge, and charisma to sway juries to the best interests of their clients."

Elizabeth imaged herself standing in front of a jury. Her honey-blonde hair touched her shoulders in a sophisticated layered style. She had on an expensive suit well suited to her lithe body, which would be lean from her workouts at an upscale gym. Since her parents’ genes had given her a five-nine frame, pleasant oval face, green eyes, and healthy curves, she saw herself in designer leather pumps. A rare smile brightened her face as she admired the image and set it as a goal. As she lifted her eyes back to the speaker, he seemed to catch her smile and returned it. A lump swelled in her throat. She swallowed it and adopted a more studious look. She feared he might think she was trying to attract his attention.

Not all of you will become attorneys, and many of you will practice what I think of as slower law, not criminal. For those of you whose steps will lead you to practice criminal justice, remember you are fighting for someone’s life, freedom, and where your client will spend some or all of his or her remaining years. I am not suggesting you ignore your morality and release a hardened criminal back into society.

Ian seemed to relax a little. He grinned at the audience, or so she hoped, as he seemed to fix his attention on her. I sleep better at night, not because of the security system in my loft, but because violent individuals do get locked behind secure doors. Heed your conscience and defend only those with an outcome that won’t invade your dreams, or make you sleep with a gun under your pillow. There are enough lawyers to go around, enough with poor reputations. Be honest, and help build our profession.

With a dramatic pause, he nodded to the audience and walked off the platform. His address had been very brief and ended without ceremony or a question-and-answer period. Elizabeth speculated on the tactic and visualized him using the same brevity and dramatic closing with a jury. As she stood, she was nearly knocked back into her seat as eager members of the audience flocked backstage to find their speaker. Elizabeth sighed and made her way out through the auditorium. Ian King could have his group of admirers. She wanted only to enjoy the remainder of the night she suddenly had free.

She walked the grounds of the campus, enjoying the night sounds and the feel of the campus. Her heart ached when she came across two girls sitting on a wall sharing some photographs and memories. Christie had left a dark, hollow place inside of her as they had once made plans to go to college together. Now Christie, according to her mother, was an unhappy wife and mother with an unfaithful husband she clung to for financial support. She had married her quarterback boyfriend right out of school without a thought to being able to support herself. No woman, Elizabeth reasoned, should tie herself to a man, not for love or money. She’d never allow herself to be in a position where she couldn’t take care of herself. When she married, the man would have to be faithful, or as daddy would say, he’d have to hit the highway.

Surprised, Elizabeth found her musing and meandering had led her back to the lecture hall. Most of the students were gone. The ones remaining were just finalizing their plans. Elizabeth selected a seat against the wall to make some evening plans of her own. She certainly didn’t want to squander her free evening sitting in her room. Her stomach grumbled at her quietly, so she pondered treating herself to dinner at one of the college’s budget friendly eateries.

Do you come here often? Elizabeth grimaced at the overused line, loading both her barrels to shoot down the offending oaf. She rounded on him, but was startled into silence with her mouth open.

She caught herself quickly and then answered weakly, Not as often as I’d like.

Ian smiled as he studied her. Although her faded blue cotton dress was a far cry from a designer outfit, her poise and quiet beauty against the night was appealing. With an answer like that, you must tell me all about yourself.

I’m afraid I’d be charged with boring you to death and be convicted.

Ian laughed heartily. In one sentence, she displayed a quick intelligence and a sense of humor.

Seeing as I’m facing an evening of my own company, not only boring but lonely, I’ll take my chances. We could have dinner at my hotel, and eating will prevent either of us from being bored to tears in public.

Ian waited as Elizabeth considered her response. Actually, she was calculating her risk. A public restaurant, an important attorney from Philadelphia in for only the weekend, and a free meal seemed a low risk and better than a burger and fries at McDonalds. She cocked her head and looked at him with a small smile. Will I appear on your expense account?

Ian laughed again. He was really enjoying their encounter. No, I think I can manage this evening on my own.

Elizabeth had one lingering concern, and the shadow of hesitation made her furrow her eyebrows as she looked up at him in thought. ‘What if Ian King had more than dinner in mind?’

Ian astutely took in her expression. I promise a cab home, at my expense, right after dessert and coffee, scout’s honor. Ian raised his hand to form the Boy Scout sign.

Elizabeth laughed at the man in his expensive, tailored three-piece suit and familiar hand sign. The laughter made her feel good. Alright, but you may regret the expense.

Ian pulled her to her feet and wrapped her hand through his arm. I’m a good judge of character, and I can’t imagine any man feeling the expense of your company to be too much. They struck out across the campus, making small talk. Ian led her to a rental car and helped her into it. Before he closed the door, he stooped down to her level. I do have one requirement for this evening.

Elizabeth felt a tinge of fear grip her as she responded pleasantly. What would that be, counselor?

I’d like to know the name of my dinner companion before we dine.

She smiled in relief and extended her hand. Elizabeth Adams.

It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth. Ian shook her hand, stood, and closed the door.

Chapter 2

The hotel restaurant was fairly average in Ian’s experience, but Elizabeth tried it on like the Armani suit she planned to own. Her well-worn dress was shabby in comparison to the other women’s dining attire, but Elizabeth held her head high and walked with an air of grace to their table. Ian seated her as the waiter stood by, and Elizabeth acted as if she had been seated in a nice restaurant many times, instead of the first time.

I’m Kevin. I’ll be your server tonight. Ian took his seat. What may I get you to drink this evening? Kevin asked as he handed out their dinner menus. The waiter looked at her, and Elizabeth started to demurely decline. She had developed no taste for alcohol, because the expense was a foolish use of money in her family.

Ian intercepted. We’ll just see the wine list.

The waiter handed Ian the wine list and waited for his choice. Ian selected a 1998 bottle of Chardonnay Chalkhill. The waiter nodded his approval, recited the chef’s specials, and left their table.

If you don’t like the wine, once you’ve tasted it, you can ignore it. Ian’s looked sincere.

Thank you. Elizabeth was puzzled by Ian’s attention toward her. She spoke to cover the silence. I’m curious. What bought you back to campus? Certainly you have better things to do with your time than address a few wannabe attorneys on a Friday night? Elizabeth paused and looked toward the other diners. You could have had better company.

Ian looked past her as the waiter approached with their wine. With Ian’s approval, the waiter poured their wine and then asked if they needed more time for their dinner selections. Ian dismissed the waiter with a wave of his hand. We’ll order a little later.

Ian picked up his wineglass and addressed Elizabeth, To a fortunate change in plans that has provided me with a charming dinner companion. Elizabeth accepted the toast and tasted her wine. It was slightly sweet, not displeasing to her untrained palate. Are you just being gracious to avoid a direct answer?

Ian used his cloth napkin to blot his lips and answered carefully. This trip was to be an opportunity for me to show my hometown to a friend, but an urgent family matter changed his plans.

I’m sorry. I hope everything is alright. Elizabeth nervously sipped her wine and wondered about the relationship he had with his unnamed friend.

Everything is more than all right, Elizabeth. Ian used her name, and the sound was rich and full. Columbus will always be here, and now I have another reason to come back.

Elizabeth blushed as Ian’s look gave additional meaning to his words. Maybe we should look at the dinner menu? Elizabeth’s flush had deepened under the influence of the wine, and she gratefully took refugee behind her large menu.

The hotel here is known for its fresh seafood. Ian suspected Elizabeth hadn’t enjoyed too many seafood dinners. We can start with shrimp cocktails, and maybe a combination of lobster tail and scallops or shrimps. How does that sound?

Elizabeth quelled her unease over the prices and quickly decided against struggling in public with a lobster for the first time. What you’re suggesting is a banquet, when I was planning a hamburger at McDonald’s.

Certainly, you want more than a hamburger! Ian responded more as a statement than a question.

Elizabeth dismissed Ian’s tone. I was thinking more about a salad and the trout special.

You don’t have to order the special, Elizabeth. Ian’s tone was softer.

Thank you, Ian, but even ravenous, I don’t eat much. Elizabeth eyed the display of desserts being presented to the table next to them. I’m thinking ahead to dessert.

Elizabeth’s smile and eyes reflected a childlike delight over what she saw, and Ian followed her gaze and chuckled as the waiter approached. Ian caught her gaze and directed her. I’ll order.

Ian ordered her trout and salad and the combination he wanted for himself. Over dinner, Ian kept her wineglass full, and plied her with more personal questions than she normally would have tolerated.

So, why does your father cling so hard to his little farm in Ohio? Ian asked. To him it made little sense to hold onto anything that wasn’t profitable, especially when John Adams had a family to consider.

I suppose you can say dreams die hard in the Adam’s family. He is the fourth generation born to those acres. His father almost lost it in the depression. The Martin’s farm across the road from us was lost before I was born, and they turned it into a suburban housing development. Elizabeth paused when her self-pity voice reminded. Where Christie lived. She tried to forget the unhappy memory, but it rested near the surface of her mind.

His dream is to not only make Adams Acres profitable, but to pay off the loans taken against it so his children and grandchildren will inherit it without the threat of one more bad year seeing the land go. Ian considered her reply before his next probing question. Do you share the dream?

A little. As the baby of the family, I’m actually six years younger than Seth. Elizabeth realized she was starting to prattle and tried to rein in her words. My brothers, Seth and Phillip, work the farm with Daddy. My brother Jim works in Cincinnati to support himself and his family, but he loves the land the most, so someday he’ll certainly want to return. My sister, Phoebe, is married to Thad. They have a house on the land, and Thad works it.

Elizabeth paused, sipped her wine, and changed the direction of her answer. The law isn’t an escape for me, Ian. It’s a dream where I get what I want and use my income to secure the land for the others. Dad and Mom support me emotionally even though they can’t financially. She added one more statement quietly. They’re proud of me.

As well they should be. Ian reached across the table and momentarily rested his hand on hers. Now, would you like to order dessert?

Elizabeth had enjoyed her salad, trout, as well as the baked potato Ian had ordered, but hadn’t been able to complete the meal. I’m afraid there’s no room for dessert.

Ah, but dessert and coffee are definitely on the agenda. You can take home what you can’t finish, and remember our delightful evening when you finish it. Ian nodded at her in encouragement, waved the waiter over, and he showed them their choices.

Elizabeth favored the cheesecake and asked for a small slice. Ian ordered carrot cake and dessert coffees for them. The silence was momentarily uncomfortable, and Elizabeth was a bit lightheaded from the unfamiliar, but refreshing wine. I’ve spent the entire dinner talking about myself. I’m sorry to be so self-centered. Won’t you tell me about yourself?

Ian’s response was noticeably slow, and the waiter came back to serve them before he answered. The pause stirred Elizabeth’s curiosity.

I can confirm what you must already know. I’m a bachelor and an attorney. At thirty-eight, I’m comfortable with a lifestyle of fine things. I enjoy participating in sports, especially rock climbing. I have a tight circle of friends, and I’m very good to anyone I include in my circle.

Elizabeth managed only a few bites of her dessert, but welcomed the warmth of the coffee. Ian spoke mostly about his law practice and his enjoyment of working out at the gym. He even told her about his most recent rock-climbing venture with his friend, Colin Anderson. If you’d like, I could take you on a beginner’s climb.

Elizabeth was startled by the offer, but felt that it was sincere. Oh, Ian, you’re kind to want to show me your sport, but with my work commitments, I really can’t. Even if I could take the time off, I’m sure I couldn’t muster the courage to trust my safety to a rope.

There’s more to climbing than just equipment. In the end, what is most important is the trust you have in yourself, your experience, and your partner. The equipment is important and must be well maintained, but your skills and instincts are what you develop and trust. I don’t mean to lecture. I sense you don’t trust easily, but the offer will stand. Someday you might test trusting me. There was a long pause before Ian signaled the waiter. In quick order, her dessert was boxed and the bill settled with a sizable tip.

Elizabeth realized the evening was over, and she felt that Ian was, if not angry with her, at least disappointed. She shook it off. Ian had only needed a diversion for his evening in town. I really want to thank you for a delightful dinner. You’ve been a most gracious host.

Ian reached across the table and stroked her fingers gently. He seemed relaxed again. The pleasure was mine. You rescued me from my own company, and allowed me to bore you with my rock climbing enthusiasm. I know your immediate plans don’t call for travel, so I won’t invite you to Philadelphia, but you have an open invitation when you’re ready. I hope you’ll allow me to see you when I get to Columbus again. May I have your number?

Elizabeth was confused, but flattered by Ian’s offer. She searched for her business card that offered help with student papers and tutoring. She expected his offer was a show and her card would end up in a trash container. He pulled his own card and pen from his coat pocket and wrote his cell phone number on it and placed it in her hand. I can be an asset to your future, if you’ll allow me. Elizabeth took the card, rose and turned to the lobby in silence.

Ian escorted her through the lobby and directed the doorman to call a cab. "When my friend’s plans changed, I changed my flight to twelve tomorrow, but