|
|
AN EXCERPT FROM "THE JUDAS KNOT"
BY PASTOR DALE FREEMAN NEW NOVEL COMING FOR CHRISTMAS Pastor Dale's new book, THE JUDAS KNOT, is the latest installment in the popular Rachel Gillette Mystery Series. The death of an old friend leads Rachel along a dangerous path as a horrible threat emerges from the dark heart of hatred. This thriller will not only entertain, but it continues to build a platform upon which the reality of God's love and the Gospel is progressively presented. It'll be available in time for Christmas. AN EXCERPT FROM "THE JUDAS KNOT" Rachel found Michael Morrison exactly where he had promised. He was leaning against a police car, a half eaten sandwich clutched in his hand. He smiled broadly as she approached him across the warped planks. She was proud of him. He hadn’t regained the weight, and his posture had improved remarkably. He stood to complete attention, finally wrapping his arms around her. “Man, do you look good!” He inventoried her for a moment. “It’s gals like you our guys were fighting for!” “You’re still full of it.” She straightened his wind-blown lapel, dusting bread crumbs from his shirt. “If there’s ever been a man who needs the care of a good woman...” He laughed. “Rachel Gillette! Star reporter and matchmaker!” “That reminds me,” she laughed. “There is someone down at the office. A new lady who just started in bookkeeping. She’s about this tall...” “Save it!” He turned, placing his sandwich on the hood of the car. “If I can’t have you, then I don’t want anyone!” They both knew that he was joking. They also knew he wasn’t. “Well, what’s up down here?” She checked the horizon, inspecting the silent machinery and unpopulated surroundings. “Oh, some dead broad washed up this morning. Some kids sneaking in to snag a fish or two found her. The meat wagon guys drug her out and hauled her off. I’m just having to hang around here until a few uniforms show up to go over the area with a fine tooth comb. You know...grunt work. Not something big detectives need to mess with.” “No, big detectives just get left guarding the place.” “Right. Well, anyways. Say, listen, Kiddo. How’s that handsome husband of yours doing? I mean, I saw him a couple of times early on, but it’s been awhile.” “Oh, Peter’s all right, I guess. It took ages to get through the discharge thing. So much red tape he decided to go see his Rehabilitation Officer.” “Oh, I don’t mean that. I mean, how’s he doing? You know...stuff.” “Well, it’s all right. I mean, he’s had to have some counseling.” “That’s understandable enough.” He took another bite of the sandwich. “I mean, I was glad to hear that he was in Oflag 64. I read somewhere that it wasn’t as bad as some of the camps. But, you’re still caged up like a dog. That has to have some impact on a guy...” “Well, listen Morrison.” She looked upward, shielding her eyes, as if checking the time by the advancement of the bright sun above them. “I have a stack of paper work...” “O.K. I can take a hint.” He retrieved a manila envelope through the open car window. Fishing through the contents, he pulled out what appeared to be an incident report. She had seen a thousand of them while working in research before her coronation as reporter. “This thing came through, and I recognized a name. I think it’s someone that you know. Someone you told me about.” He handed her the paper. Dated three weeks earlier, the report had come from the Nevada Highway Patrol. She did recognized the name. Adrian Bookman, Private Investigator, friend and occasional co-conspirator with her father before his death. “Someone killed him in Las Vegas.” “Las Vegas?” “Oh, you know. A wide spot in the middle of a long road. A few little hotels and such. Mostly gambling.” “What was he doing there?” She acted as if he should know. “I don’t have a clue! I wouldn’t have paid much attention if your name hadn’t come up down at headquarters.” “My name?” “Yeah. Seems this Bookman had a bus ticket to Los Angeles on him and your name and address scrawled on a piece of paper. Looks like he may have been heading to sunny California for a little visit.” “But, he didn’t say anything...” “All right. Surprise visit. Anyways, they gave me the heads up because I know you. The bottom line is, I think the Highway Patrol over there would like to talk with you.” “Why? What could I possibly tell them? I mean, he disappeared out of my life even before my father died. Didn’t even say good-bye...” “Well, you must have been on his mind. I mean, I don’t blame the guy...” She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t have time...or any way...” “Listen, Rachel. I know you’re busy and all that. And I know that the readjustment for you guys has been bumpy and all. But, they really want to talk to you over there. I talked with the boss and he says we can have someone fly you there tomorrow. It won’t even take a day flying and all. I can even work out going with you. I mean, if you want some company. I know a few of the guys in Vegas, and I can cut through some of the... Well, you know. Maybe I can help some.” She reexamined the sketchy report. Mundane information about the victim, approximate time and place of death. A cursory listing of personal effects. A wallet, some gambling tokens, a bus ticket and her name and address. “I’ll have to talk to Peter.” “Good. You do that.” He smiled. “I’ll talk to the boss, and we can get it all set up. We’ll fly out of the L.A. Metropolitan Airport. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll meet you there at 9:00. It’ll just be a hop, skip and a jump over there and back. I’ll even call the Vegas guys and give them a heads up so they can have their ducks in a row and we can get it done in a hurry. Guaranteed back home before dark.” She nodded her head, realizing as she did so that life afforded few guarantees. |
