Retired federal marshal Travis Britt’s youngest son, Reid, has completed law school and has married Chipeta, a beautiful Indian girl. But a dangerous mingling of lies, crime, and secrets bring dark clouds over the family. Chipeta struggles with acceptance among the people in Reid’s hometown and with her own identity. But Reid can’t help her. He is called by God to serve justice and now struggles for his own survival in the dangerous world of organized crime. Knowing the entire family could be in danger, Travis prays fervently for their safety and holds the secret that could help Chipeta. But before he can tell her, she disappears. One friend leads Reid to believe a lie while another friend turns to crime and abandons his children. The only people that can offer Reid the truth are his wife and his father. But now Reid’s father is gone too.
BOOK REVIEW:
“ I started the book and didn’t put it down till I was through. You are an amazing writer. I didn’t know what to expect with this one. Very suspenseful and relevant to today. ” (K.L.)
“ This is a wonderful series…..well written, captures the reader such that I wish I had time to read all the way through the entire book without stopping, and of course the story you tell puts forth a Christian message in an awe-inspiring way through the trials and tribulations of Travis and his family. As your books have proved, you are a great writer…. both in the message you present and the method of writing. I look forward to the next publication and I know I will enjoy it and benefit greatly from reading it. ” (R.C.)
EXCERPTS:
1st excerpt
That afternoon Reid stood before the dean and the disciplinary board. He wasn’t answering their questions, and they were quickly getting frustrated with this disrespectful and violent student.
It was six weeks to the end of the term, and they were openly discussing what to do with this young man. He had been a model student until now. Always well prepared, studious, respectful, and courteous. His grades were outstanding. But there was no place for this kind of behavior at their institution.
“Well,” the dean said, “if you’re not going to answer our questions, what do you have to say for yourself? You should defend your own actions. That’s what you’ve been trained to do.
Reid replied, “I don’t regret what I did. ‘God will bring into judgment both the righteous and the wicked, for there will be a time for every activity, a time to judge every deed.’” (Ecclesiastes 3:17)
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. The dean’s assistant opened the door from the outside to introduce Agent Don Prather of the Department of Justice.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I understand you have a problem,” Agent Prather said, looking at the board and then at Reid, who stood tall before the men. Unashamed, the law student was ready for whatever punishment they wanted to give him.
“You do realize that you have standing before you the son of one of the great men of the Justice Department?” Prather said.
Reid looked at the agent. Why was he here? What did he want?
The dean spoke. “Agent, we are in the middle of a disciplinary meeting. It really doesn’t matter whose son this is.”
Agent Prather smiled and continued, “This is a young man who comes from a family with a fine tradition of law and justice. A young man who, as a university student, served justice well in assisting with the capture of several members of an organized crime ring. I don’t believe it would serve the school’s good name to discipline him too severely. I don’t believe his family—very influential, by the way—would appreciate it either. Why don’t you gentlemen take a few minutes to discuss your discipline among yourselves. I would like to speak to Mr. Britt alone. May we use this room?” Prather raised his hand to indicate a door to the side.
Without waiting for an answer, Prather opened the door and looked at Reid. “Come on, son.”
The board sat in astonishment as to what had just happened. A total stranger had walked in and taken the student from them. They looked at each other for a moment, then the dean said, “Well, what are we going to do with him? Do you know who his father is?”
The disciplinary board had finished their discussion and sat waiting for Agent Prather and Reid Britt to return. They were impatient busy men with much to do and ready to go home for the day. Hours passed before the door opened again. Reid walked back into the room with the same solemn look on his face that he had when he had left a few hours earlier. He stepped to the same spot he had stood previously and turned to face the board, saying nothing.
Agent Prather moved to stand beside Reid and smiled a knowing smile. “I’d be careful what you do to this young man. Your actions could turn around to bite you.” Prather left the room.
It was six weeks to the end of the term, and they were openly discussing what to do with this young man. He had been a model student until now. Always well prepared, studious, respectful, and courteous. His grades were outstanding. But there was no place for this kind of behavior at their institution.
“Well,” the dean said, “if you’re not going to answer our questions, what do you have to say for yourself? You should defend your own actions. That’s what you’ve been trained to do.
Reid replied, “I don’t regret what I did. ‘God will bring into judgment both the righteous and the wicked, for there will be a time for every activity, a time to judge every deed.’” (Ecclesiastes 3:17)
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. The dean’s assistant opened the door from the outside to introduce Agent Don Prather of the Department of Justice.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I understand you have a problem,” Agent Prather said, looking at the board and then at Reid, who stood tall before the men. Unashamed, the law student was ready for whatever punishment they wanted to give him.
“You do realize that you have standing before you the son of one of the great men of the Justice Department?” Prather said.
Reid looked at the agent. Why was he here? What did he want?
The dean spoke. “Agent, we are in the middle of a disciplinary meeting. It really doesn’t matter whose son this is.”
Agent Prather smiled and continued, “This is a young man who comes from a family with a fine tradition of law and justice. A young man who, as a university student, served justice well in assisting with the capture of several members of an organized crime ring. I don’t believe it would serve the school’s good name to discipline him too severely. I don’t believe his family—very influential, by the way—would appreciate it either. Why don’t you gentlemen take a few minutes to discuss your discipline among yourselves. I would like to speak to Mr. Britt alone. May we use this room?” Prather raised his hand to indicate a door to the side.
Without waiting for an answer, Prather opened the door and looked at Reid. “Come on, son.”
The board sat in astonishment as to what had just happened. A total stranger had walked in and taken the student from them. They looked at each other for a moment, then the dean said, “Well, what are we going to do with him? Do you know who his father is?”
The disciplinary board had finished their discussion and sat waiting for Agent Prather and Reid Britt to return. They were impatient busy men with much to do and ready to go home for the day. Hours passed before the door opened again. Reid walked back into the room with the same solemn look on his face that he had when he had left a few hours earlier. He stepped to the same spot he had stood previously and turned to face the board, saying nothing.
Agent Prather moved to stand beside Reid and smiled a knowing smile. “I’d be careful what you do to this young man. Your actions could turn around to bite you.” Prather left the room.
2nd excerpt
The door to the Pink Lady opened. A young lady stepped into the alley, lighting a cigarette. She looked up with a start when she saw Luke and stood there, watching him.
“You’re one of the guys looking for Red,” she said apprehensively. It wasn’t a question. She knew who he was. She had seen him shoot Sullivan.
“Uh-huh,” Luke replied.
She looked around to see if anyone else was watching. Then she backed up and leaned against the door. Luke thought she was blocking it, so she would know if anyone was trying to open it. He sat hopeful.
“Just listen,” she whispered, taking a puff on the cigarette. “Couple of weeks ago me and this other girl found Red in the basement of the Pickles and Feathers club, just south of here. He’d been beat up bad. We helped him into an empty storage room and took him food and water and a blanket.” She took another puff. “Like I said, he was beat up bad. We watched out for him for a few weeks. Then I guess maybe a week or two ago, we went back to take him more food and he was gone.”
“Can you remember exactly when you saw him last?” Luke asked.
She thought, took another puff, and shook her head. “Maybe Monday afternoon, a week ago, I think.”
“How bad was he hurt? Do you think somebody found him or could he have left on his own?”
“He was hurt bad, but he had been there a couple of weeks. So he could have walked out on his own, I guess. We’d taken him a blanket and found a hat and taken it to him. They were both gone. The only thing that was left was the bucket we’d been putting water in.”
Just then the door bumped her. Her eyes got wide, and she shook her head at Luke. Luke knew what was wrong. No one needed to see her talking to him. He quickly moved into the shadows, into the corner behind the door.
The woman turned to open the door and stepped out of the way, headed back into the building.
“What are you doing out here?” the angry male voice rumbled into the night.
“Just having a quiet smoke.” Then she threw the remainder of the cigarette onto the pavement. Luke couldn’t see what was happening from his hiding spot behind the opened door. But he could imagine the man grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her roughly back inside the building.
Then the door slammed shut.
“You’re one of the guys looking for Red,” she said apprehensively. It wasn’t a question. She knew who he was. She had seen him shoot Sullivan.
“Uh-huh,” Luke replied.
She looked around to see if anyone else was watching. Then she backed up and leaned against the door. Luke thought she was blocking it, so she would know if anyone was trying to open it. He sat hopeful.
“Just listen,” she whispered, taking a puff on the cigarette. “Couple of weeks ago me and this other girl found Red in the basement of the Pickles and Feathers club, just south of here. He’d been beat up bad. We helped him into an empty storage room and took him food and water and a blanket.” She took another puff. “Like I said, he was beat up bad. We watched out for him for a few weeks. Then I guess maybe a week or two ago, we went back to take him more food and he was gone.”
“Can you remember exactly when you saw him last?” Luke asked.
She thought, took another puff, and shook her head. “Maybe Monday afternoon, a week ago, I think.”
“How bad was he hurt? Do you think somebody found him or could he have left on his own?”
“He was hurt bad, but he had been there a couple of weeks. So he could have walked out on his own, I guess. We’d taken him a blanket and found a hat and taken it to him. They were both gone. The only thing that was left was the bucket we’d been putting water in.”
Just then the door bumped her. Her eyes got wide, and she shook her head at Luke. Luke knew what was wrong. No one needed to see her talking to him. He quickly moved into the shadows, into the corner behind the door.
The woman turned to open the door and stepped out of the way, headed back into the building.
“What are you doing out here?” the angry male voice rumbled into the night.
“Just having a quiet smoke.” Then she threw the remainder of the cigarette onto the pavement. Luke couldn’t see what was happening from his hiding spot behind the opened door. But he could imagine the man grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her roughly back inside the building.
Then the door slammed shut.
3rd excerpt
It didn’t look like Mac had noticed Reid come in. It didn’t look like Mac was seeing anything. Reid had seen this happen before. Mac didn’t seem to hear or see anything around him when he was seriously disturbed by something.
Reid took a few steps closer. Then he saw the pistol in Mac’s hand.
“Mac?” Reid said. Mac gradually raised his eyes and looked in Reid’s direction.
“She’s gonna die,” Mac said softly.
“I know. Luke told me.”
“I can’t raise those young’uns by myself.” Mac raised the gun in his hand to look at it.
Reid took a step closer, reaching his hand out. “Mac, hand me the gun.” Reid took another step. He could see in Mac’s eyes what he was thinking, and Reid had no intention of letting Mac do it. “Mac, those children need you.”
“They need their mother. I need their mother.”
“Hand me the gun.” Reid demanded this time.
He was just a few feet from his friend and getting closer. Reid could see panic begin to show in Mac’s eyes. Mac began to raise the gun, and Reid lunged forward onto Mac’s arm, slamming them both into the wall behind Mac, pulling down on Mac’s arm with his body weight. Reid had dropped his cane and was struggling with both hands to pull the gun from Mac.
Mac was still struggling to point the gun toward himself. The gun went off, and Mac dropped to his knees, Reid clinging to him.
Reid took a few steps closer. Then he saw the pistol in Mac’s hand.
“Mac?” Reid said. Mac gradually raised his eyes and looked in Reid’s direction.
“She’s gonna die,” Mac said softly.
“I know. Luke told me.”
“I can’t raise those young’uns by myself.” Mac raised the gun in his hand to look at it.
Reid took a step closer, reaching his hand out. “Mac, hand me the gun.” Reid took another step. He could see in Mac’s eyes what he was thinking, and Reid had no intention of letting Mac do it. “Mac, those children need you.”
“They need their mother. I need their mother.”
“Hand me the gun.” Reid demanded this time.
He was just a few feet from his friend and getting closer. Reid could see panic begin to show in Mac’s eyes. Mac began to raise the gun, and Reid lunged forward onto Mac’s arm, slamming them both into the wall behind Mac, pulling down on Mac’s arm with his body weight. Reid had dropped his cane and was struggling with both hands to pull the gun from Mac.
Mac was still struggling to point the gun toward himself. The gun went off, and Mac dropped to his knees, Reid clinging to him.