Ghost River by Jon Coon (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

on its way. You could be much more a power for good if you would claim your gifts and accept your destiny. And you need to appreciate the importance of family. We’re here for you always.”

She let him sit quietly for a while. He had a lot to think about.

“Angels came for Wyatt Bodine. How could that be?”

“You mean because he was guilty and he deserved hell, not heaven? And how could God do something so unjust?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ve been expecting this for some time, Gabe. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever hear of mercy? Forgiveness? We forget He has the right to have mercy on anyone He chooses. Aren’t we all guilty? If any of us got the justice we deserve heaven would be a very lonely place.”

“Yes, but—”

“In your world you want retribution. You want the guilty to burn in hell. You want revenge. But maybe that’s not always what He has in mind. Maybe there was a lesson in what happened with Wyatt Bodine,” she said.

“I don’t like where this is going. You’re talking about my father.”

“Am I? I don’t remember mentioning his name. But I do recall you had strong opinions about where he should spend eternity.” Her eyes were sad. Her head tilted slightly.

“That hasn’t changed. Have you heard anything more about his getting out—that parole hearing?”

“Denied. He will serve the full sentence.”

“He’s safer in there than he would be with me,” Gabe said. “God may forgive him, but I never will.” Gabe was inflated with anger. He knew it was wrong but was hopeless in its grasp. He needed a woodpile and his maul. There was blessed relief in hitting something solid with all your strength.

“Then, as I’ve told you before, you will never be free of him,” she reached out and held his arm. He averted her eyes but didn’t pull away. Silence hung heavily between them. Gabe knew she was right, but he was trapped in the memories of his mother’s brutal murder.

“Did Cas burn the house?” he asked looking back into her sad, dark eyes. “She had a .22 in her purse the last time I saw her. She could have shot Carol’s car. What’s next? How can we stop her before this gets worse?”

“No. Casilda blames you, not Carol. If she were going to shoot anything or anyone, you would be at the head of her list.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I guess.” He wasn’t so sure. “I was thinking about Wyatt Bodine last night, and I just realized something. Maybe I was lucky. With Carol, I mean.”

“Why do you think that’s true?”

“He was in love with Catherine Conners. He was a victim of love, and look where it got him. At least I’m still here.”

Alethea stayed with him until he drifted back into a troubled sleep.

CHAPTER 45

Gabe lay back in bed with plenty to think about. At the top of the list were all the times his instincts had warned him about falling in love with Carol. She was Charlie’s wife, the timing was impossible, and he’d never been comfortable in romantic relationships. He was the damaged son of an abusive, alcoholic murderer, who talked with the dead. Add that to his life as a cop, and she was right. Only an idiot would take on that much risk. She had good reason to stop and think.

Sunlight was banging on the window when Bob came in and sat down beside him with two paper coffee cups.

“Morning,” Bob handed him a cup. “Feel like talking?”

“Sure. Anything turn up in the files from Peterson’s?”

“Yep. Lots of dirt on highway guys in several states. DA Carruthers has called in the FBI. They are going to have their hands full.”

“Anything else?”

“Still looking for Bodine’s body. Carol said you were on his dad’s boat for a while before he took off on the bike. Did he tell you anything new?”

“Remember Catherine Conners at McFarland Construction? She’s in line to own the company if anything happens to Conners. Wyatt said he was in love with her. He was trying to save the company so she could sell it. Then they would do a happy ever after under the palm trees. In order for that to work he had to make the evidence against the company go away. His escape plan was to go to Costa Rica, disappear, and wait for her to join him.”

“No wonder they didn’t want Rogers to testify.”

“More than that, it was personal. He admitted to killing Rogers and our guys. He said Rogers helped Conners kill his dad and killed his sister.”

“What about Janna and the hit and run?”

“Wyatt said that was all Conners. Janna was like family,” Gabe said.

“Something I need to tell you about Janna. Remind me later.”

“I think Wyatt was mostly telling the truth. Can’t prove it. Just my gut. We have to find that laptop. That’s the only way we’re going to know.”

“The team’s been looking for over a week. Odds aren’t good,” Bob said.

“We have to find it. I have an idea. Hand me my clothes. We’ve got work to do.”

“Don’t suppose it will do any good to remind you you’re in the hospital because you nearly died two days ago . . . in that river.”

“None whatsoever. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re wasting time. Let’s go. Oh, what were you going to tell me about Janna?”

“Later.”

“Two things are going to happen,” Gabe said. He, Bob, and Nick were on the remains of the bridge watching the river roll past. “We’re going to make a production out of looking for that laptop. We want everyone to know what we are doing and why. Now if you were trying to stop us, how would you do it?”

“Lots of sniper cover,” Nick said, looking at the ridge and trees along the river.

“Right. So we invite SWAT to play. What else?”

“Fast boats, depth charges, grapples, rat poison . . .”

“We bring our boats and a chopper or two. With door gunners.”

“Sounds good,” Bob said. “I’m on it.”

“Next