The Road to Justice/Sins of the Son combo pack - A John Fowler Novel (John Fowler (Books 1 & 2)) (23 page)

“
Jim, I need you to do something that may be very hard.  I need you to not tell a soul about this.
”
 
Jim looked surprised. 
“
If this goes the way you and I are thinking, the last thing we need to do is involve the local police.  I
’
m going back to New York. 
I
’
ll get a team together and
they
’
ll be
down here by the end of next week.  Whatever,
excuse me, whoever, is down there has obviously been there for years, so a week isn
’
t going to hurt.
”

Jim look
ed
at the hole and back to John. 
“
John
, do you think she
’
s involved?
”
 
John shook his head, looked at the hole and then back to Jim. 

“
Jim, I have no idea, but if she is, then you understand the need for secrecy, right?
”
 
Jim nodded. 
“
Let
’
s get out of here.
”
 
The two of them left the cave and headed back to the church.  They didn
’
t say anything during the walk.  When they reached the church, John shook Brother Jim
’
s hand.

“
Jim, I know you think this is on you, but that isn
’
t the case,
”
said John. 
“
Veron
ica, or Lisa, or whoever she is.  T
hat
’
s the person behind all of this.
”
 
John put his hand on Jim
’
s shoulder. 
“
You
’
re a good man
,
Jim.  Never forget that.
”
 
Jim nodded.  John got in the car and headed down the road toward the interstate.
As the town disappeared in his rearview mirror, all John could think about was how at least six deaths were possibly responsible by something the current
f
irst
l
ady had done. 

“
John
,
when you find a case to come back with, you find a case to come back with,
”
John said to no one in particular. 

As John headed down the road, he began to wonder where he was going.  His flight wasn
’
t leaving until tomorrow night.  He could simply go to a hotel near the airport and relax for a few days.  The other option was for him to go see his parents.  He looked over at the seat beside him halfway expecting to see Sam.  She wasn
’
t there.  John wasn
’
t sure if he
was
glad
,
or not
,
that she wasn
’
t.  John sighed, entered his parents address into the GPS
,
and turned on the satellite radio.  John headed down the road, ready for the two and
a
half hour drive. 

Two hours later
,
as he got off the interstate and turned away from town, nervousness began
to
gnaw at him.  He assumed his parents would gladly see him.  What if they wanted nothing to do with him?  John tried to shake that thought from his mind.

He passed the high school on the outskirts of town and turned onto the road that would lead to his parents
’
house.  As he looked over the countryside, he turned nostalgic of the people that lived there when he was growing up.  He turned off the main road a couple of minutes later and drove past the church he grew up in.  John navigated the car through the twisty, windy road.  He topped a hill and turned his car onto the last turn before he came to his parents
’
house.  He drove down the road and started down the hill.  He made the turn at the base of the hill to his parents
’
farm.  As he pulled up into the drive, memories overwhelmed John. 

John parked the car, turned off the engine, and got out of the car.  The side door of the house opened, and there was his father.  His father raised h
is eyebrows in surprise and head
ed down the walk toward him.  His dad stuck out his hand toward him. 
“
Bubba.
”
 
His father said.  It was a joke between them from John
’
s teenage years.  Henry, John
’
s father, called John
“
Bubba,
”
and John called
his father
“
George.
”
 
They had gotten those names from a cartoon the two had been watching one Saturday morning when John was growing up waiting for a Cats game to start. 
“
George,
”
John responded.  John caught his father in a bear hug, and his father was taken off guard for a second.  His father hugged him back, and patted John
’
s back.  John was near tears.

“
George . . . Dad
. . .
I
’
m sorry,
”
John tried to say without losing his composure. 

“
It
’
s alright
,
son
.  I
t
’
s alright.  Welcome home.
”

John and his father walked inside.  He heard rustling farther on in the house.

“
Henry,
”
John
’
s mother called. 
“
Is someone there?
”

“
It
’
s John,
”
Henry simply replied.  John
’
s mother burst around the corner of the kitchen and came into view.  Tears were in her eyes.  John tried to speak, but couldn
’
t.  He simply walked
across the room and hugged his mot
her. 

“
I
’
m sorry
,
Mom
,
for what I said to you at the funeral,
”
John said.

John
’
s mother pulled away from him and looked at John. 
“
As well you should
,
Y
oung
M
an!
”
 
His mother admonished.  She smiled at John and hugged him again. 
“
John
,
you went through something Henry and I have never experienced and couldn
’
t imagine living th
r
ough.  What happened that day is forgiven, and forgotten.
”

John smiled at his mother.  His parents invited him into the living room.  John walked into the living room and looked around.  It was like he never left.  He sat on the couch and answered all of their questions of what had been going on in his life.  They were somewhat disappointed he had left the FBI, but very excited about him working on the current case.  They talked for a couple of hours and it was starting to get late.  John stood up to leave.

“
And just where do you think you
’
re going
,
Y
oung
M
an?
”
His mother asked.

“
I figured I had better get into town and get me a room,
”
John answered.

“
John Fowler!
”
 
His mother exclaimed. 
“
You sit down right this second.  You
’
ll stay here tonight and that will be the end of it!
”
 
John looked over at this father.  His father was sitting in the recliner, leaning in toward the couch listening to and joining into the conversation when he had something to add.  When John looked over at him
,
his father straightened and shook his head.

“
You heard you
r
mother.  I
’
m not getting dragged into that fight.  No matter how it would end, I would lose,
”
Henry said.  John smiled.  Over three years and things hadn
’
t changed at all.

“
Besides,
”
said his mother.
“
You have to tell me how you and Jessica are doing and when you plan on getting on with your life and marrying that girl.
”
 
John
’
s mouth dropped.  Henry barked a laugh.  John
’
s mother walked into the kitchen. 
“
I
’
ve got some homemade pimento cheese
,
John, would you like a sandwich?
”
 
John, with his mouth still opened
,
turned toward his father.  Henry smiled.  He leaned in toward John and spoke where only John could hear him.

“
Bubba, you better answer her . . . and tell her if you want the pimento cheese as well.
”
 
Henry leaned back, smiling broadly.

“
Yes
,
M
om, I
’
d like a sandwich,
”
John answered.  John shook his head, chuckling to himself.  As much as thing
s
had changed since Sam
’
s death, the more they had stayed the same.

John walked into the kitchen as his mom was making him a sandwich.

“
Mom,
”
said John. 
“
Let me do that
. 
I
’
m almost forty years old.
”

His mother ignored him and continued making the sandwich. 
“
John, I
’
m your mother.  If I want to make my baby boy a sandwich, then I will
.  I
f I don
’
t want to
,
I
’
ll tell you to make it yourself!  Now shut up and eat!
”
 
She placed the sandwich on
a plate and handed it to him
.  John took it to the table and began to eat.  His mom sat down at the table and watched him.  John put down the sandwich.

“
How do
you know about Jessica
,
Mom, and what exactly do you mean when am I going to marry her?
”
 
He asked.

“
After the funeral that day,
”
his mother began. 
“
Jessica came up to me and said she was a friend of both you and Sam.  She said you didn
’
t really know about her and Sam
’
s relationship.  She also said that you were suffering from alcoholism due to you being undercover.  John, she told me everything.
”
 
His mother looked away for a minute.  When she looked back she had tears in her eyes. 
“
John
,
she has been the only contact I
’
ve had with you for three years.  I haven
’
t seen you since you were drunk at your
own
wife
’
s funeral!
”
 
John felt about three inches tall.  He started to speak, but his mother stopped him.

“
John, we didn
’
t know what was going on.  She took us to dinner after you left and explained your undercover work and how you had to get into the mob.  She said one of downfalls of going undercover is some cops or FBI agents succumb to drugs and alcohol.  John, I understand why you did it, and I understand why you were so hurt.  Jessica told me how she was the one to interview you over the death of your wife.  She said she couldn
’
t reveal a lot of what happened, but the gist of what she said
was you blamed yourself for Sam
’
s death.  John, it
’
s not your fault.
”