the baseball field, where I felt fairly safe. But he takes off. Now I’m scared shitless, thinking maybe I’m gonna be victim forty-one. We drive down to the University of Kentucky campus, to the football stadium, where he parks in a vacant lot. Then he tells me he’s been doing a lot of research, and that he knows everything about me and my family. I listen, don’t say a word, still unsure if I’m going to live or die. Next, he wanted to know if my father owned any weapons. I told him Eli had a Winchester rifle and a twenty-two pistol. He asked if Eli had used the twenty-two recently. I told him I thought he had. He then told me to get the twenty-two, and to make sure to not touch the handle when I picked it up. He said I had until the next day to get the gun and give it to him. He also said if I didn’t get the gun, or if I told anyone about this meeting, bodies would fall. After that, he took me back to the practice field.”

“So you got the gun out of the safe,” Dantzler said. “Did you meet Richards the next day?”

“Yes. Behind Turfland Mall.”

“What did Richards tell you?”

“He told me that no matter what happened in the next few days I had better keep my mouth shut. He said only two people in the world know about any of this, and if I uttered a single word implicating him he would methodically murder every member of my family, beginning with little Rachel. He added that they would suffer in such a horrible way that they would plead with him to finish them off. I had no choice but to believe him and to do what he said.”

Tommy’s eyes glazed over with tears. He hung his head, saying nothing for more than a minute. When he finally lifted his head tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Three days later, two boys were dead and my father had been arrested for murder. And I could only watch, couldn’t speak up, even though I knew the truth. I was afraid, a coward. All these years… how could my family not hate me for what I allowed to happen?”

“You were a terrified kid trapped in an impossible situation.” Dantzler said, putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “And believe me, Tommy. Johnny Richards would have done exactly what he said he would do had you pointed a finger at him. He was a ruthless killer.”

“Still… I should’ve handled it differently.”

“I don’t know what more you could have done.”

“Something… anything.”

“Do you think Eli knew it was you who took the pistol?”

“No.”

“Well, he had to know something,” Dantzler said. “There had to be a reason why he took the fall for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“Colt Rogers met with my father the day after he was arrested. He’s the one who passed along the threats Richards made against my family. Eli had to silently swallow the medicine or risk the chance everyone in his family would suffer and die.”

Dantzler stood. “Thank you for telling me this, Tommy. I know it was painful, and I know this situation has caused you more agony than I can imagine, but you’ve helped me solve the puzzle.”

“Am I in any kind of trouble?”

“Why would you be in trouble? You didn’t break any laws. The way I see it, you’re the hero in all this.”

“Heroes aren’t cowards.”

“You’re no coward, Tommy,” Dantzler said, opening the door. “You had a decision to make and you chose the only path you could. And it was the right path.”

“I hope God’s judgment is as generous as yours.”

“You need to see Eli. He misses you more than anyone. The two of you have a lot of ground to make up and not much time to do it. Make the move. Go see him.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can ever look him in the eye again.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Dantzler arrived home at nine-fifteen, quickly undressed, and fell down on the bed. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He awoke at eight-thirty the next morning. Almost twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Unheard of for him.

Nothing revives a worn-down body faster than a good night’s sleep and a full breakfast. Following a lengthy shower, he dressed, grabbed the newspaper, and headed downtown to Coyle’s Restaurant for a late breakfast. After making a couple of phone calls, he checked the time-eleven forty-five-and left the restaurant. He had one stop to make before his one o-clock meeting with the Whitehouse clan at Rachel’s farm.

The family had questions, and it would be up to him to provide the answers. After all, he was the only one who knew all the details.

Ninety minutes later, opening the door to Rachel’s house, Dantzler was met by a host of people, many of whom he had never seen before. Eli sat in a huge leather chair, looking every bit like an ancient prophet being attended to by his many followers. He also looked much healthier than he did during his previous meetings with Dantzler. His hair and beard had been trimmed, his skin had some real color to it, and his eyes sparkled. To his left, a nurse inspected tubes and various other connections, making sure he was getting his medication. On the opposite side, Rachel adjusted a pillow behind his head. Kirk stood next to her, holding a small plate that contained what remained of a piece of chocolate cake. Also in the room were six younger people-three boys, three girls-ranging in age from mid-teens to mid-twenties. Dantzler didn’t recognize any of them. Eli’s grandkids, he presumed.

Isaac sat on a couch ten feet away from Eli, staring straight ahead, his face showing no emotion. Dantzler could only wonder what thoughts were going through Isaac’s head at this moment. Was Isaac happy, sad, jealous, envious-Dantzler couldn’t begin to know. Probably all of that and more.

When Dantzler pushed the door open wider and Tommy Whitehouse stepped into the room, everything came to a halt. No movement, no talking, just a roomful of stunned people standing like statues. Dantzler wasn’t sure if anyone in the room was even breathing. It was, he felt, like a movie freeze-frame moment. Amid the silence, all eyes went from Tommy to Eli. Back and forth they went, from son to father, no one quite certain what to say or do. No one sure what would happen next.

Then Eli spread his arms like some majestic prehistoric bird, and in a voice clear and strong, he shattered the silence with a single word:

“Thomas.”

Hearing his name, Tommy ran to his father, knelt in front of him, wrapped his arms around his father’s emaciated body, and buried his head into the old man’s chest. Eli folded his arms around the son he had not seen in twenty-nine years, leaned forward, and kissed Tommy on the cheek.

Tommy, weeping uncontrollably, kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve done. Can you ever forgive me?”

Eli lifted his son’s head, looked him in the eye, and said, “You have no reason to ask for forgiveness. You did nothing wrong, nothing that requires forgiveness, from me or anyone else.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry for failing you. It was me… I took the gun from the safe.”

“I know,” Eli said. “But you only did it because you had no other choice. It was the same with me. I had to stay silent, remain in prison, because the alternative meant death to our loved ones. Neither of us could allow such a terrible thing to happen.”

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

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