“You’re no coward, Tommy,” Dantzler said, opening the door. “You had a decision to make and you chose the only path you could. And it was the right path.”
“I hope God’s judgment is as generous as yours.”
“You need to see Eli. He misses you more than anyone. The two of you have a lot of ground to make up and not much time to do it. Make the move. Go see him.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can ever look him in the eye again.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Dantzler arrived home at nine-fifteen, quickly undressed, and fell down on the bed. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He awoke at eight-thirty the next morning. Almost twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Unheard of for him.
Nothing revives a worn-down body faster than a good night’s sleep and a full breakfast. Following a lengthy shower, he dressed, grabbed the newspaper, and headed downtown to Coyle’s Restaurant for a late breakfast. After making a couple of phone calls, he checked the time-eleven forty-five-and left the restaurant. He had one stop to make before his one o-clock meeting with the Whitehouse clan at Rachel’s farm.
The family had questions, and it would be up to him to provide the answers. After all, he was the only one who knew all the details.
Ninety minutes later, opening the door to Rachel’s house, Dantzler was met by a host of people, many of whom he had never seen before. Eli sat in a huge leather chair, looking every bit like an ancient prophet being attended to by his many followers. He also looked much healthier than he did during his previous meetings with Dantzler. His hair and beard had been trimmed, his skin had some real color to it, and his eyes sparkled. To his left, a nurse inspected tubes and various other connections, making sure he was getting his medication. On the opposite side, Rachel adjusted a pillow behind his head. Kirk stood next to her, holding a small plate that contained what remained of a piece of chocolate cake. Also in the room were six younger people-three boys, three girls-ranging in age from mid-teens to mid-twenties. Dantzler didn’t recognize any of them. Eli’s grandkids, he presumed.
Isaac sat on a couch ten feet away from Eli, staring straight ahead, his face showing no emotion. Dantzler could only wonder what thoughts were going through Isaac’s head at this moment. Was Isaac happy, sad, jealous, envious-Dantzler couldn’t begin to know. Probably all of that and more.
When Dantzler pushed the door open wider and Tommy Whitehouse stepped into the room, everything came to a halt. No movement, no talking, just a roomful of stunned people standing like statues. Dantzler wasn’t sure if anyone in the room was even breathing. It was, he felt, like a movie freeze-frame moment. Amid the silence, all eyes went from Tommy to Eli. Back and forth they went, from son to father, no one quite certain what to say or do. No one sure what would happen next.
Then Eli spread his arms like some majestic prehistoric bird, and in a voice clear and strong, he shattered the silence with a single word:
“Thomas.”
Hearing his name, Tommy ran to his father, knelt in front of him, wrapped his arms around his father’s emaciated body, and buried his head into the old man’s chest. Eli folded his arms around the son he had not seen in twenty-nine years, leaned forward, and kissed Tommy on the cheek.
Tommy, weeping uncontrollably, kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve done. Can you ever forgive me?”
Eli lifted his son’s head, looked him in the eye, and said, “You have no reason to ask for forgiveness. You did nothing wrong, nothing that requires forgiveness, from me or anyone else.”
“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry for failing you. It was me… I took the gun from the safe.”
“I know,” Eli said. “But you only did it because you had no other choice. It was the same with me. I had to stay silent, remain in prison, because the alternative meant death to our loved ones. Neither of us could allow such a terrible thing to happen.”
Rachel, confused by what she was hearing, knelt next to Tommy, putting her arm on his shoulder. Kirk moved next to Rachel and held her hand. Isaac, his facial expression unchanged, remained seated on the couch.
“Hold you head high, Thomas,” Eli ordered. “You are my son, in whom I am well pleased.”
A few minutes later, the nurse ordered Eli to get some rest. He agreed, telling his children he was tired and needed to lie down for a while. The nurse, with Rachel’s help, lifted Eli into his wheelchair. After another check on the tubes and connections, with the nurse following close on their heels, Tommy rolled his father into a side bedroom.
While Tommy remained at his father’s side, Dantzler, Rachel, Kirk, and Isaac sat at a long oak table in the dining room. Judging by the food remaining on the table, this was where the homecoming celebration had been held. There were finger sandwiches, a vegetable tray, several different kinds of fruit, and the remains of a cake with “Welcome Home, Eli” on it.
Rachel requested the sit-down, saying she wanted to know exactly what had happened twenty-nine years ago. “Did Tommy really take the gun from the safe?” she asked Dantzler.
“Yes.”
“But… why?”
Dantzler paused for a few seconds, assessing how he should lay out the full story to the Whitehouse family. The best way, the only way, was to start from the beginning and give the details in narrative form. Otherwise, he would be bombarded with a multitude of questions. That would only serve to bounce the story from place to place, making it all the more confusing.
“Let me go back to the beginning and take you through the entire story,” he said.
And that’s what he did, starting with a detailed biographical sketch of Johnny Richards. Who he was and how he made his living as a Mob hit man. He told them how it all began when Tommy inadvertently overheard the conversation between Johnny Richards and the other man in the YMCA locker room. How Richards then confronted Tommy, ordering him to get the gun out of the safe. How Richards promised Tommy that if he talked, everyone in the family would be tortured and killed. How Richards sent Colt Rogers to Eli with the same promise of death if Eli fought the charges. How Richards killed Rogers and Devon Fraley, and attempted to set up Rocky Stone as the murderer. How Eli’s clues, difficult as they were to figure out, eventually led the authorities to Richards.
Dantzler ended his tale by informing them that Richards was dead.
“So, Eli was right,” Rachel pointed out. “Tommy had no other choice.”
“If Tommy or Eli had spoken up, none of you would be sitting at this table right now,” Dantzler said. “You would all be dead. Johnny Richards would have done exactly what he said he would do.”
“And the two kids Richards killed in the barn? How did they fit in to all of this?” Kirk asked.
“They were unlucky victims,” Dantzler answered. “Richards needed to ensure Tommy’s silence. He did so by killing those two boys and then framing Eli for the murders. Where Richards found the two kids is anyone’s guess. All we know is he did find them. He lured them into his car-maybe with the promise of drugs-drove them to the barn, tied them up, and executed them. Then he left the gun at the scene. And, of course, the gun had Eli’s fingerprints on it. Those prints, along with Eli’s refusal to defend himself at his trial, led to the inevitable guilty verdict.”
“Diabolical,” Rachel said, more to herself than to the others. “And to think what all this did to poor Tommy.”
Later, the nurse and Tommy came out of Eli’s bedroom. Tommy walked into the dining room and told Dantzler that Eli would like to speak with him. Dantzler excused himself and went in to see the old man.
“Thomas will be all right now, won’t he, Detective?” Eli said, his voice still strong and clear.