Love,

Tim

New Orleans, Louisiana – four weeks later…

An autopsy revealed that Tim Trinity had been carrying a tumor the size of a small quince in his head. Atheists said the tumor meant that the Trinity Phenomenon was not evidence of a God. Believers said the tumor was God’s instrument.

And since nobody could explain how the predictions worked, most folks just went on believing, or not believing, whatever they believed, or didn’t, before the whole thing began.

Daniel was getting on with the business of grieving, and he was grateful for the grief. Of all the miracles he’d witnessed in the past two months, perhaps the greatest of all was that he’d reconnected with his uncle. This is what the grief taught him, and the pain of this loss was better than the emptiness he’d felt when they were estranged.

He felt like he’d found himself again. He felt truly blessed.

He made it down to Dulac once a week, and on the last visit was surprised to see that Pat had already lost the crutches. Having taken a bullet for the cause, Pat didn’t even complain when Daniel said thank you.

Julia had become quite a sensation in the world of journalism. She still wrote for the Times- Picayune but also traveled on joint assignment with CNN. Daniel was living with her—until he found an apartment, they said—but she was away as much as she was home these days.

He missed her when she was away, but he didn’t begrudge her making the most of the opportunity. And when he drove her to the airport last week, she’d said that maybe it was time for him to stop pretending to look for an apartment. So the early signs for the relationship were all good. He was happy to stop pretending to look for an apartment and was looking forward to her return later that afternoon.

He was sitting in the sunshine on Julia’s back deck reading a novel when the package arrived. He heard the doorbell, walked through the house, and signed for the FedEx driver, who handed him a box.

He took the box to the dining room, cut the tape, and opened it.

Inside he found an aluminum laptop computer and a note from Carter Ames on Fleur-de-Lis Foundation letterhead.

Daniel:

I once told you that if you walked the path, I would show you the truth about your uncle.

Your uncle was not the only one. The world is full of miracles.

– Carter Ames, managing director

Daniel put the note down and looked at the laptop.

He went to the kitchen, tossed ice cubes in a glass, and poured some amber rum over the ice. He took the drink out to the back deck, sat in the sun, and closed his eyes.

He heard a key turn in the front door lock, heard Julia’s heels on the hardwood in the living room.

“Out on the deck,” he called.

Deep down, Daniel knew that he would open that computer and examine the truths Carter Ames wanted to share.

But not today.

Everybody knows the great city of New Orleans was devastated by Hurricane Katrina and the flooding that followed, but many have assumed it has fully recovered. Not so. There are large parts of the city still struggling, and they sure could use our help. The Make It Right Foundation is doing heroic work in the Ninth Ward, and I hope you’ll join me in supporting their efforts. If interested, you can find more information and a link on the Good Works page of my website, www.chercover.com. Thanks.

Speaking of New Orleans, I did take dramatic license near the end of the novel by moving a housing project a few blocks from where it actually stands. I signaled this by giving both the project and the street fictional names.

Biblical quotations in THE TRINITY GAME come from the New Revised Standard Version. According to most scholars, the NRSV is the second-most accurate translation, when compared to earliest known documents. The most accurate is the NASB ’95. But the Catholic Church does not use the NASB, whereas the NRSV is accepted by both Catholics and Protestants and could be a Bible common to both Tim Trinity and Daniel Byrne.

The work of religious historian Bart D. Ehrman and theoretical physicist Benjamin Schumacher aided my research immeasurably. I first discovered them through their excellent DVD courses at The Great Courses, and I’ve enjoyed their books as well.

I had a total blast writing this book, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. If you did, I hope you’ll tell your friends and neighbors and booksellers and librarians, both in person and wherever you hang out online. I appreciate the boost.

Dan Conaway: Incredible agent, even better friend, and the idiot who told me to write this book when most said don’t. Also Stephen Barr, Simon Lipskar, and the whole gang at Writers House.

Marjorie Braman: Editor extraordinaire, who brought fresh eyes and keen intellect and who definitely made this a better book.

Andy Bartlett, Daphne Durham, Jacque Ben-Zekry, Katie Finch, Justin Golenbock, Leslie LaRue, Renee Johnson, and the entire Thomas & Mercer team.

Barbara Chercover: Mom, friend, and first-reader without equal. Her fingerprints are all over this book.

Marcus Sakey: My road dog and collaborator, who repeatedly talked me off the writing ledge. Marcus is responsible for the fact that this book contains no Jesuit assassins or sea nymphs.

My other early readers: Agent 99 (more on her later), Jane Cornett, John Purcell. All gave valuable feedback.

Dana Kaye: Great friend and awesome publicist.

The crime fiction community: Readers, writers, librarians, booksellers, reviewers, editors, bloggers, publicists, agents…fellow crime fiction geeks. My tribe. Wish I could name you all, but you know who you are. Representative sample: Jon & Ruth Jordan, Jennifer Jordan, Judy Bobalik, Jenn Forbus, JD Singh, Marian Misters, Rick Kogan, Robin & Jamie Agnew, Mike Bursaw, Don Longmuir, McKenna Jordan, Richard Katz, Linda Brown, Bobby McCue, Marjorie Flax, Penny Halle, Sue Freemire…and Ben LeRoy, who makes the publishing world—and the world—a better place. One Love, y’all.

Clergy: Father Dave, Father Michael, and Father Ken, for their insight and openness. Mambos Ava Kay Jones, Sallie Ann Glassman, and Miriam Chimani, for accentuating the positive.

Finally, to the love of my life, Agent 99. Words fail. And to my son, a.k.a the Mouse, a.k.a Thunder Dragon, a.k.a Fire Dog. You are the two best things that ever happened to me. Don’t know what I did to deserve you.

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