Following an unexpected turn of events during his sit-down with prisoner Wesley Gilmore, Special Agent Cameron Rowell is thrown further into a world of confusion as he tries to piece together the network of conspirators responsible for various attac...
"I had to, Karen," I said while keeping my attention on the road as I drove. "There was no other way. I had to push his limits because people usually show their real selves when you put pressure on them or instill fear in them."
"I'm aware of that but I think you went too far. From what you told me; it sounds like Whitlock is losing hope that we'll bring his son home alive. With that in his mind, you accused him of having his own son kidnapped. Think about how that looks."
"Karen, I had no choice. You don't understand. When I went up against Kappa Sigma Phi, I thought the leader of the fraternity was the leader of it all. Well, he wasn't. And he got killed because of my wrong assumption. I can't let that happen again."
"And what if Whitlock lied? What if he is acting?"
"No, that wasn't acting. No one can fake what I saw in that office."
"You're one hundred percent sure?"
I glanced over at her as I stopped at a red light and told her, "Karen, I am one hundred percent sure. Samir Whitlock is not in on this."
The church was filling with people as Pastor Henry Travers was preparing for the service. Karen and I had decided to attend the funeral for two reasons: to pay respect for Michael and to see if anyone suspicious would show up. Instead of taking a seat, we stood in the back near a set of doors. As the service was beginning, I noticed a man who wasn't wearing formal clothing enter the church through a side door. I hated profiling people but if I had to take a guess, I'd say he was a gang member, a drug dealer, or a combination of both.
"Before I get into my sermon," Pastor Travers began with a trembling voice, "I want to talk to you about my son, my Michael. I know the Lord doesn't make mistakes but..." His voice broke and he took a moment to collect himself as tears streamed down the sides of his face. "I never imagined that I would be here on this earth longer than my son. I miss him every second of every minute of every hour and I know some of you have a word or two about the way he was born, but my wife Corinne and I do not. We've always accepted Michael as he was and we will rejoice when we leave this life and join him in heaven."
He went into a prayer so everyone bowed their heads except me. I kept my attention on the man who had walked into the church just moments before Pastor Travers began speaking. He was crying. For some reason, that made me less suspicious of him. Still, I was curious to know how he knew Michael. After sitting through the entire service, which was beautiful and somber, everyone began exiting the church to travel to the burial site. Karen and I caught up with the young man that I'd initially thought was suspicious.
"Excuse me, sir," said Karen as we approached him outside by his Chevrolet Caprice.
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He looked around nervously before asking, "Yeah, what's up?"
