Hair of the Dog, Gordon Carroll [top 100 novels of all time TXT] 📗
- Author: Gordon Carroll
Book online «Hair of the Dog, Gordon Carroll [top 100 novels of all time TXT] 📗». Author Gordon Carroll
“Then I go to jail and you do too and there’s no one to take care of my little girl. She ends up in a foster home or worse. Your plan is stupid. You think you can win because you’re on the right side of things. That’s nice thinking, but it’s stupid. It’s not the way the world works, so this here ain’t going down that way.”
My head was starting to clear, but I needed time, time to make him listen to reason, time to…
“Jerome, I can make this work. You have to give me…”
…please, just a few seconds…
“No,” he said. “Don’t talk no more. Shoot and save Clair from me and them or don’t shoot and I’ll try it my way. Your choice, but I’m done talking and so are you. Shoot or die… now.” He pulled the gun up from his side and took aim. I saw his finger squeeze back on the trigger.
The time I needed, like so often in life, just wasn’t there.
47
My stay in Chicago was extended another week, what with all the questions from both the locals and the feds. But now that I stood on my mountain, I felt better… not great… but better. The news media made me out to be a hero, which helped in assuring that Clair was placed with a good family. It would be hard for her. She had a long road ahead. She hated me for taking her from her daddy. Someday I hoped to tell her the whole story, but that day was a long way off. I would be watching. I’d keep an eye on her from afar. My unsaid promise to Jerome would hold me to it.
His bullet didn’t hit anything vital or do me any permanent damage, just pain and a little blood loss. That Jerome was a good shot.
The Claytons, Clair’s false relatives, were exposed as frauds and arrested. They probably wouldn’t get much time, but at least it was something. And without Senator Marsh’s influence to cover things up, the bodies and fire in the projects were being closely investigated. The anonymous documents I’d sent to the local branch of the FBI this morning would help in that investigation, proving who Marsh was and his involvement in the Bloods and their takeover of the city.
There was nothing I could do to clear Jerome’s name, and if I exposed Marsh’s role as Clair’s father, it would drown her in a shadow that she might never recover from (the curse of Caanan all over again). So I kept all that to myself.
The wind blew and a very light rain began to sprinkle as I laid Clair’s picture on Jerome’s grave. I’d had his and Ziggy’s remains flown in and buried on my mountain about a hundred yards north of my garage. Neither man had any family to speak of, so I bought a couple of headstones and laid them to rest. After all, we were a team there for a little while. Semper Fi, brothers.
I don’t talk to the dead, not seeing any evidence from the Bible they could hear me anyway. People don’t become God when they die, they can’t be everywhere and hear everything. I don’t know if either of them were Christians, probably not… most likely not. That being the case, they are both in Hell, now and forever. So instead, I asked Jesus to relay to them that I was watching over Clair and that she was with a good family that wanted to adopt her. I asked Him to let them know that one day I will tell her the truth about Jerome and what both of them sacrificed for her. I hoped it might help to alleviate a few of their stripes. I don’t know if the Lord will relay the message or not, or if it is even allowed. But Jesus knows my heart and why I ask, so ask I do.
Then I remembered my conversation with Jerome in the car, when he asked me about the Romans verse and how God can help us get through the toughest of times if we trust in Him. I do… I do… but sometimes… life just makes it so difficult.
My heart felt heavy and hard and sad.
A cold nose bumped against my hand and I looked down to see Max staring up at me. I rubbed his head and, wonder of wonders, he let me. Maybe because he felt bad about biting me and almost breaking my arm, but maybe because he could sense how I was feeling. Or maybe, maybe it was something else. Either way, I liked it. Baby steps or no, I liked it.
Thank You, Father.
So the two of us stayed there for a while, letting the warm rain stir up the summer smells and the wind toss our hair. And after a short time, we turned and headed back to the house and Pilgrim.
The End
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