Gabriel: A thriller (Standalone within the Divinus Pueri series)

by Tracie Podger

  “And all that just to protect you and save her from having to give testimony that she was raped,” I said, not believing a word he was telling me. “No, there’s way more to it than that.”

  Zachary shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, no more time for talk.”

  He opened the car door and stood, looking at the cabin. I climbed from the car and followed him as he walked to the door, knowing I was very possibly walking into a trap. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As he did, I reached down and took the gun from the ankle holster I’d worn. I stood, making sure he was aware that I held it in my hand. He opened the door and we walked in.

  “The prodigal son returns,” I heard.

  Sitting in the corner was an old man with thinning grey hair; bony, curled, arthritic fingers gripped the arms of the chair he sat in.

  “Gabriel, meet my father.”

  Zachary walked around the sparse room. He began to mumble.

  “You see, Dad, you’ve caused so much pain to so many people, do you not see that?”

  It seemed to me that this was a continuation of a conversation already started. I stood quietly.

  “My Son, the Lord let his only son suffer. I am doing the Lord’s work.”

  “You are neither the Lord nor I, his son,” Zachary said.

  “But you are mine, if your mother is to be believed, of course. How is she? I remember her well.”

  “Dead, she blew her fucking brains out,” Zachary said, with such venom in his voice, it took me by surprise.

  “Weak, you see. The women are all weak.”

  I couldn’t detect one ounce of remorse or sympathy in his voice.

  “So this is your brother?” he said.

  Cold blue eyes looked over to me.

  “Different father, thankfully,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Gabriel. Such a powerful name. Do you know much about your namesake?”

  Before I could answer, Zachary swung around; he held a gun in shaking hands, tears rolled down his cheeks. He took a step toward him and I watched Father Samuel smile. I stepped beside Zach and placed my hand on his arm, I gently lowered it. As I did, I noticed something that had my stomach lurch. The sleeve of his shirt had risen when he’d extended his arm, exposing his wrist. A wrist with a raised scar in the pattern of a cross.

  I took another step, that time closer to Father Samuel, and I crouched down so I was face to face.

  “I do know my namesake, and I bring you a message,” I said.

  Slowly, Father Samuel brought his gaze away from Zachary and to me. I hid the shiver that ran up my spine and threatened to have my body involuntarily recoil. I wasn’t religious, but in that moment, I saw evil, pure evil.

  “You do not have a seat next to God. You do not have a place in heaven at all. You’re going straight to hell.”

  I stood and took a step back. With his eyes still fixed on mine, and the smile still on his lips, I raised my gun.

  “This is for Savannah,” I said, as I pulled the trigger.

  Zachary fell to his knees. He held his hands together in prayer. He didn’t pray for his father, he prayed for himself, and for me. He begged forgiveness.

  “Don’t pray for me, Zachary.”

  We drove the couple of hours home in total silence. We only spoke as we pulled up outside my house. Trina’s car sat in the driveway.

  “I’ll give you one week, Zachary,” I said.

  He looked over to me.

  “I’ll give you one week to confess your part in covering up that abuse, and to being an active member of that cult. A high ranking member.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t give me any bullshit!” I shouted. “I saw an inventory, Zach. You documented statements taken from Father Samuel twenty fucking years ago. Twenty years ago my wife, and her sister, were in that convent. If you had done something then, they would not have led the life they had. Both would still be alive today. And I saw that scar. You went through initiation, Zachary. You cut your wrist; you bled over women and children as you fucked them. Where was your vow of celibacy then? At what point did you stop investigating the cult and embrace it? Where was your God, Zachary?”

  He had the grace to lower his head and once again, I saw tears roll down his cheeks. The knowledge that he was more than an infiltrator had come to me when I’d seen the scar.

  “Mom wasn’t protecting your position in the church, was she? She was protecting your position in the cult because she knew you were part of it. You brought those fake feds to our house because they are your half-brothers! You needed to know what Sierra had discovered, you, Zachary. It was never Mom was it? Did you tell her she would be exposed? Did you use her rape as an excuse to have her do your dirty work?” My voice rose on every word.

  “She wasn’t innocent, Gabriel. I told you the truth, I had no part in killing…”

  I didn’t let him finish his sentence.

  “You manipulated Mom into killing, didn’t you? You were the gun, it was your finger on the trigger, she was just the bullet.”

  He struggled to meet my gaze.

  “You can run, you can hide, but I will find you. I will out you. I’m giving you the chance to do the right thing; I’m giving you the chance to redeem yourself. Children, God’s children, suffered such terrible fucking lives, some by your hands. You’ve lied all the way through this. You’re as guilty as Mom, maybe more so.”

  I couldn’t look at him as he sobbed. His tears did not affect me in any way.

  “I made a promise to my wife, that I would find out who and why, and I’d do something about it. I won’t break that promise.”

  “I’ll lose everything,” he mumbled.

  I slammed my hand on the dash so hard, he startled.

  “Sierra was murdered, her daughter lost her mother, and I lost my wife. Lily was murdered, there’s her child somewhere, now motherless. What about them? What about the hundreds of children who suffered? What about your mother, she took her own life, Anna, Syd even? What about their deaths that you ultimately caused?”

  I opened the door and climbed out of his car. Before I closed it, I leaned down.

  “One week, Zachary. And I’m only giving you that for the sake of my father, otherwise I’d have put a bullet through your fucking brain and let you rot beside yours.”

  I walked away from him, opened my front door, and caught my daughter who had run the length of the hallway and jumped into my arms. I buried my face in her neck to hide the tears that coursed down my cheeks. I didn’t cry for Father Samuel, I didn’t cry for my mother. I cried for all those children, the same age as my daughter. I cried for Lily’s child and hoped that whoever had him, would care for him. I cried for my father because I knew that he would soon be burying his son.

  Zachary would never turn himself in, he would never confess to what he did. Of that, I was sure. To do that, he also had to confess to all the sins both he, and the Catholic Church, had committed.

  One week later my brother was found hanging from a beam in the barn. It had been Sam who had found him. That was the only thing I was thankful for.

  My dad was a broken man, a man not capable of leaving the house since he’d buried his wife and his son. I didn’t attend Zachary’s funeral. I knew a lot of the townsfolk questioned why. Thomas had told them I was caring for Taylor, she had suffered enough loss to not be subjected to another. The truth of it was, Taylor didn’t know Zachary, she’d met him less than a handful of times. I hadn’t even told her he had died. There was no way, not even for my father, that I could stand the hypocrisy of all the bells and whistles of a Catholic funeral for him.

  I spent days and nights with Dad, Taylor was shipped from one house to another, and I told him what I knew. I documented everything and I handed it to Mich. I told them where to find Father Samuel but did not confess to killing him. I left that open and let them make the incorrect assumption that Zachary had. I felt no remorse for that.

  As time went on Dad became frailer, he
’d given up on life. Not even Taylor could rouse him from his rapid decline. He’d brushed away my request to see a doctor, he’d refused any help, and after a while, he shut himself in his bedroom. Taylor and I packed up our house and moved in with him.

  I took him meals; I sat with him. We talked a lot. He relived his past, days in the army, the early days with Mom. He spent a long time teaching me what to do with the ranch, not that I didn’t know what to do, of course. He was preparing me for when he wasn’t around. He naturally assumed I’d take over from him.

  Sam stuck around; he helped. He sat with Dad, sometimes for hours. I’d stand outside Dad’s bedroom door and listen. I’d smile when I heard them talk, I’d smile more when there was silence. They didn’t need words; they’d shared a lifetime together.

  “How is the old man?” Thomas asked. He’d arrived for his twice-weekly evening visit.

  “Sleeping when I checked, I’ll go see if he wants anything, in a bit. How’s Heather?”

  “Moving in tomorrow,” he said.

  “That’s great, Tom, I’m pleased for you.”

  “Yeah, I’ll propose at some point,” he said with a laugh.

  “And the garage?”

  “Doing good, want to see accounts?”

  I’d handed the running of the garage to Thomas. He had surprised me, and Jake, with his administrative skills. What he knew about engines you could fit on a postage stamp, but he took the worry off me. I felt some responsibility for Thomas being booted out of his job and offering him mine seemed a sensible solution to both our problems. My heart wasn’t in it, but it was an investment for Taylor.

  “House sale going through?” he asked.

  “Yeah, should be completed this week. Just a little paperwork to finish.”

  “And then what?” he asked.

  “I want to rebuild this place, get rid of the ghosts, so to speak.”

  “Okay to go on up and see your dad?” he asked.

  I nodded as I lit a cigarette. “Tell him I’ll be up in a bit.”

  He’d been gone just a few minutes when he reappeared. He didn’t need to tell me, I’d seen it in his face. I lowered mine to my hands and wept. I’d known it was coming; he’d given up. I just hoped I would have had a couple more months with him.

  In the space of a couple of months I’d gone from having parents and a brother, to nothing but my daughter and a handful of friends.

  It was those friends that kept me going through Dad’s funeral. It was those friends that helped me look after Taylor and around the ranch. But it was only my daughter that kept me from joining my wife.

  There were days the struggle to get out of bed was just too much of an effort, but I’d see Taylor and knew I had to. I had to put one foot in front of the other and take one step at a time, one day at a time. More so when reports started to come in.

  I’d relived the past when Mich made an unexpected visit one day. He brought me up to speed on the investigation. As I suspected, no charges were brought against Father Samuel, or Zachary, there was no point; they couldn’t stand trial. It wasn’t in the public’s interest I was told. The only good thing that happened was Zachary had left a suicide letter, a long rambling, woe is me letter confessing everything. That resulted in a public announcement by the Catholic Church. They’d apologized for their failings; they’d made promises to right the wrongs and to tighten their procedures. They’d assured the world that they would be more transparent when it came to investigating some of the serious accusations that started to flood in. I had my doubts about that. As for the cult? Well, it moved locations, was all I was told.

  “Horses are in,” I heard. I’d been sitting in my dad’s chair on the porch.

  “Thanks, join me for a beer?”

  Sam sat. He’d moved into the loft and was a permanent fixture. He didn’t want pay, just lodging. I made sure that his fridge and cupboards were stocked each week. I had no idea if he had money, but he always had a fresh pack of cigarettes and gas in his truck.

  “So, plans for next week?” he asked.

  “We build a pavilion,” I said with a smile.

  “Be nice to have a party, liven this place up a little,” he said.

  Thomas was getting married; the ranch was the venue for the celebrations. I was looking forward to it. I was looking forward to seeing my baby girl in a pretty dress and the sneakers she was still insisting on wearing. I was looking forward to seeing my best friend settle down with Heather, the love of his life, so he kept telling me. I was looking forward to having some fun.

  “It sure will, Sam. And who knows, maybe you’ll find a nice woman to keep your bed warm,” I said with a laugh.

  “I don’t need no woman, Gabe. I have all I want for now.” He gave me a salute, and holding his beer, made his way back to the loft.

  Once the wedding was out of the way I was going to make a start on building a new home. I’d decided that the old one had to go. It wasn’t to erase memories, but Taylor and I deserved a fresh start. I was excited about it, I’d be back to doing something useful with my hands.

  “Daddy?”

  “What’s up, baby girl?”

  Taylor had been playing with a new puppy. I hadn’t wanted her to have a puppy, but I couldn’t seem to refuse her. She took care of her foal, so I had no doubt she’d take care of her dog.

  “Is Grandpa a strange name for a puppy?”

  “Erm, yes, it is. How about we think of something else?”

  “I miss Grandpa,” she said. It had been noticeable that she didn't mention her grandma, but I wouldn’t question her on why.

  “How about Gramps then?”

  “Gramps is dumb,” she said with a laugh.

  “Gra?”

  She laughed out loud. “You’re silly,” she said.

  “You’re sillier,” I grabbed her sides and tickled her.

  The puppy jumped up at us. The sound of her laughter soothed my soul. I didn’t need anything, or anyone, but my daughter.

  “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, little lady.”

  She stopped laughing and looked up at me. I hadn’t realized what I’d said until I saw her smile. Those were the words my dad used.

  “Well, you’re not a baby girl anymore,” I said as I lifted her up.

  “I’ll always be your baby girl, Daddy,” she replied, wrapping her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

  I laughed as I carried her up to bed.

  “Tell me about my new bedroom,” she said, as I settled her under her covers.

  “It’s going to be all pink and pretty.”

  “Eww, I don’t like pink. Can I have horses on the wall? Please?” she grinned at me.

  “You can have whatever you want.”

  She snuggled down and I sat in the chair beside her. I picked up a book that we had started the night before and opened it to start a new chapter. I read. I didn’t get to the end of the chapter before she’d fallen asleep. Living at the ranch had changed her. She didn’t have nightmares, she slept straight through the night, and being outdoors for most of the day ensured she was tired out.

  I left Taylor sleeping and made my way back to the porch. The sun was setting and I rested my feet on the railing. I’d been so keen to leave the ranch when I was younger, I guess I had to do that to appreciate just what a beautiful place it was.

  “For fuck’s sake, will you stop panicking? If she doesn’t turn up, there’s plenty of fucking bridesmaids to choose from,” I said.

  Thomas and I were standing at the church and he was pacing. We should have been inside but he insisted on checking where Heather was.

  “She’s late,” he said.

  “She’s a couple of minutes late and isn’t that what they do?”

  An elderly woman rushed up the church steps. “She’s here, but you can’t see her yet,” Heather’s mom said as she ushered us in.

  Thomas and I stood at the altar while he beamed, waiting for his bride.

  Sierra and I
hadn’t had a church wedding, so I wasn’t aware of the service. I observed Thomas watch Heather walk down the aisle. I watched her smile broadly at him.

  I listened and when prompted, I handed over the rings. When the ceremony was over, I posed for a couple of photographs with the bride and groom, with my daughter, who wore her sneakers, and then I snuck off to see my wife.

  “Hey, baby, I missed seeing you last week, things were crazy with Thomas.”

  I told her all about the bachelor party, Thomas was pretty much out of it within the first hour. We’d hit a bar in town, got thrown out of the diner with a wink from Mary, and then partied at the ranch.

  When I was done talking to my wife, I jumped in the car and headed for the ranch, there were preparations to check on before the married couple arrived. Taylor would follow on with Thomas’ new, already moaning, mother-in-law.

  Sam had everything under control and it wasn’t long before the wedding party arrived. We’d erected a pavilion in the front yard. We had caterers in and out of the house delivering food. Heather had forbidden the hog roast Thomas wanted.

  When that was done, I had to do the most terrifying thing ever; I had to give a speech.

  I stood and scanned the faces looking back at me. Most I knew, townsfolk that Thomas and I had grown up among. It was a short speech, the traditional thanking of the bridesmaids, wishing the bride and groom all the luck in the world, and a couple of funny stories from our childhood. Once I’d sat down and gathered Taylor in my lap, I relaxed; official duties were over.

  Evening guests had started to arrive and I’d taken Taylor back in the house a little earlier to change. She was filthy, but happy. She’d spent most of the afternoon playing with Trina’s two children and wanting to hold the new baby.