Rachel, confused by what she was hearing, knelt next to Tommy, putting her arm on his shoulder. Kirk moved next to Rachel and held her hand. Isaac, his facial expression unchanged, remained seated on the couch.
“Hold you head high, Thomas,” Eli ordered. “You are my son, in whom I am well pleased.”
*****
A few minutes later, the nurse ordered Eli to get some rest. He agreed, telling his children he was tired and needed to lie down for a while. The nurse, with Rachel’s help, lifted Eli into his wheelchair. After another check on the tubes and connections, with the nurse following close on their heels, Tommy rolled his father into a side bedroom.
While Tommy remained at his father’s side, Dantzler, Rachel, Kirk, and Isaac sat at a long oak table in the dining room. Judging by the food remaining on the table, this was where the homecoming celebration had been held. There were finger sandwiches, a vegetable tray, several different kinds of fruit, and the remains of a cake with “Welcome Home, Eli” on it.
Rachel requested the sit-down, saying she wanted to know exactly what had happened twenty-nine years ago. “Did Tommy really take the gun from the safe?” she asked Dantzler.
“Yes.”
“But . . . why?”
Dantzler paused for a few seconds, assessing how he should lay out the full story to the Whitehouse family. The best way, the only way, was to start from the beginning and give the details in narrative form. Otherwise, he would be bombarded with a multitude of questions. That would only serve to bounce the story from place to place, making it all the more confusing.
“Let me go back to the beginning and take you through the entire story,” he said.
And that’s what he did, starting with a detailed biographical sketch of Johnny Richards. Who he was and how he made his living as a Mob hit man. He told them how it all began when Tommy inadvertently overheard the conversation between Johnny Richards and the other man in the YMCA locker room. How Richards then confronted Tommy, ordering him to get the gun out of the safe. How Richards promised Tommy that if he talked, everyone in the family would be tortured and killed. How Richards sent Colt Rogers to Eli with the same promise of death if Eli fought the charges. How Richards killed Rogers and Devon Fraley, and attempted to set up Rocky Stone as the murderer. How Eli’s clues, difficult as they were to figure out, eventually led the authorities to Richards.
Dantzler ended his tale by informing them that Richards was dead.
“So, Eli was right,” Rachel pointed out. “Tommy had no other choice.”
“If Tommy or Eli had spoken up, none of you would be sitting at this table right now,” Dantzler said. “You would all be dead. Johnny Richards would have done exactly what he said he would do.”
“And the two kids Richards killed in the barn? How did they fit in to all of this?” Kirk asked.
“They were unlucky victims,” Dantzler answered. “Richards needed to ensure Tommy’s silence. He did so by killing those two boys and then framing Eli for the murders. Where Richards found the two kids is anyone’s guess. All we know is he did find them. He lured them into his car—maybe with the promise of drugs—drove them to the barn, tied them up, and executed them. Then he left the gun at the scene. And, of course, the gun had Eli’s fingerprints on it. Those prints, along with Eli’s refusal to defend himself at his trial, led to the inevitable guilty verdict.”
“Diabolical,” Rachel said, more to herself than to the others. “And to think what all this did to poor Tommy.”
*****
Later, the nurse and Tommy came out of Eli’s bedroom. Tommy walked into the dining room and told Dantzler that Eli would like to speak with him. Dantzler excused himself and went in to see the old man.
“Thomas will be all right now, won’t he, Detective?” Eli said, his voice still strong and clear.
“I don’t know, Eli. He has a serious alcohol problem. That’s not easy to overcome. His road to recovery, provided it’s what he truly wants, will be difficult and painful. But . . . after seeing you again, after unloading such a heavy burden, maybe the road will be a little easier.”
“The suffering that child experienced all these years,” Eli said, shaking his head. “Only Job suffered more.”
“Were you aware that Tommy took the gun from the safe?”
“Not at first. But it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Not after Tommy fell like beautiful Lucifer from heaven. It could only have been Tommy.”
“What did Colt Rogers say when he came to visit you the first time?”
“He said if I chose to fight the charges against me every member of my family would be murdered. So you see, Detective. Like Tommy, I had no choice but to remain silent and endure as best I could.”
“Why did you wait all these years before revealing the truth? You could have done it ten, twenty years ago. Why didn’t you?”
“I was a coward. And I feared for my family.”
“That’s a terrible punishment you put on yourself. On your family. Was it worth the price you paid?”
Eli shrugged.
“Why now, Eli?” Dantzler asked. “You could have let this thing play out and no one would be the wiser.”
“I figured I would be dead by the time you uncovered the truth. Coward or not, I wasn’t about to go to my grave without freeing Thomas from the terrible hell he was living in. He had suffered enough for the sins of others.”
“Johnny Richards is dead.”
“Forgive me if I refrain from saying a prayer on his behalf.”
“Jesus’s empty tomb, Mary Magdalene—excellent clues,” Dantzler said. “But why so cryptic? So evasive? You could have made it a lot easier by simply giving me a name.”
“I had faith you would figure it out.”
“Why were you so certain I would take the case?”
“Because you’re a Gnostic.”
“What does being a Gnostic have to do with anything?”
“Gnosis, as we both know, means knowledge. And knowledge leads to the truth.”
“I still don’t follow.”
“What was your answer when I asked if you possess gnosis?”
“I chase it but I don’t always catch up to it.”
“You’re a seeker, Detective Dantzler. You seek knowledge, truth . . . God. I knew the truth—that I was innocent—and I had confidence you would uncover it.”
“Your faith is admirable, Eli. Misplaced, perhaps, but admirable.”
“Is my faith in Tommy’s recovery misplaced?”
“Only time will tell. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed that your faith will be rewarded.”
“Are you familiar with the concept of
tikkun
?”
Dantzler was startled by the old man’s question. “I’m surprised you know Kabbalah.”
“Many paths lead to God, Detective. I try to travel as many as I can.”
“During the process of Creation, the vessels containing the strict light of God’s judgment were not able to contain the light. Therefore, the vessels broke, shattered.
Tikkun
means restoration or redemption. The mending of those shattered vessels.”
“Very good, Detective Dantzler. My son, Thomas, is broken and shattered, but he will be restored. My faith in that is absolute.”
“Like I said, Eli. I hope you are right.”
“You’re a good man, Detective,” Eli said. “And not nearly so far removed from the Almighty as you would like us to believe. I suspect you’ll keep running away from God until you eventually bump into him.”
*****
As Dantzler was preparing to leave the house, Rachel met him at the door. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Detective Dantzler,” she said. “Thank you for proving my father’s innocence, and for freeing Tommy from his terrible burden. Thank you for giving my family back to me.”
Dantzler stepped outside, opened his cell phone, and called Laurie. He told her to meet him at Malone’s Steak House in an hour. Then he closed the phone, put it in his coat pocket, and walked toward his car. A huge smile crossed his face.
Never had he been happier than he was at this moment.
Acknowledgment
Much of the inspiration for certain aspects of this story came from Harold Bloom’s great book,
Jesus and Yahweh: The Names Divine
. I highly recommend Professor Bloom’s book to anyone willing to be enlightened and challenged. It is terrific. Thanks to Clay Stafford and Beth Terrell at the Killer Nashville Writers Conference. It was there that
Gnosis
was given its first breath of life. And as always, I want to thank my small band of family and friends who have always believed in me, and have been loyal from the beginning: Julie Watson, Sarah Small, Ed Watson, Wanda Underwood, Christina Young, Suzanne Slinker, Denny Slinker, Jimmie Nell Jenkins, Grant Sparks and, most especially, my aunt Bobbie Watkins. Lastly, I want to thank my good friend Theresa Little for helping me out with the landscaping, and with a thousand other things. Theresa was beyond wonderful, and she was taken from us far too soon.
Author’s Bio
Tom Wallace is the author of two previous mysteries featuring Detective Jack Dantzler—
What Matters Blood
(2004) and
The Devil’s Racket
(2007), both set in Lexington, Kentucky, where Tom lives. He also wrote the thriller,
Heirs of Cain
(2010).
Tom spent many years as a successful, award-winning sportswriter in his native Kentucky. He authored five sports-related books, including the highly popular
Kentucky Basketball Encyclopedia,
an in-depth history of the University of Kentucky’s legendary hoops program.
Tom, a Vietnam vet, is an active member of Mystery Writers of America and the Author’s Guild. His Web site is
http://www.tomwallacenovels.com
.
Samples from other books by Hydra Publications
The Heart Denied
By Linda Anne Wulf
PROLOGUE
London
June 28, 1728
Bed curtains?
Thorne Neville rolled over with a groan, only to see the deep cleft in a plump bosom. Six inches closer, he might have smothered.
There were worse ways to die.
"Sleep, Mister Adams," said a drowsy voice at his ear. "'Tis barely dawn."
Mister Adams.
His alias. That explained the bed curtains. "You sleep," he mumbled. "I'll be off."
"So early?"
"Aye." He sat up and feigned a yawn to make his next words sound casual. "I'm going home."
He tensed as the mattress shifted and flint struck behind him. Candlelight bathed the bed, revealing his stray clothing--which he gathered with unusual haste while Katy Devlin's stare seared his back.
"Home? You're leaving Oxford?"
Dread slowed Thorne's heart. Must she make this more difficult than it already was? He tugged on his stockings and tied the garters, jammed his arms into his shirtsleeves. "Do you not think four years at university enough?" Turning, he pinned Katy with the unnatural brilliance of his blue eyes, an intimidating maneuver he'd often used to his advantage, though never on a woman.