JOURNEY
By
John C. Dalglish
2014
More by John C. Dalglish
THE CHASER CHRONICLES SERIES
CROSSOVER (#1)
DESTINY (#3)
DET. JASON STRONG SERIES
WHERE'S MY SON? (#1)
BLOODSTAIN (#2)
FOR MY BROTHER (#3)
SILENT JUSTICE (#4)
TIED TO MURDER (#5)
ONE OF THEIR OWN (#6)
DEATH STILL (#7)
LETHAL INJECTION (#8)
CRUEL DECEPTION (#9)
Dear Reader,
Before you embark on what I hope will be an enjoyable read, I wanted to address an issue that has presented itself in the early reviews of the first book in this series, CROSSOVER.
I am a Christian. I believe in the plan of salvation and the infallibility of the Word of God. In writing this series, I have attempted to remain true to the character and love of our Lord.
Having said that, I must tell you this book is written for pure enjoyment and fun. The concept of Chasers and Runners is purely a fiction of my mind, and a vehicle for the story.
It is not my desire to put forth any suggestion of this being a reality of the Spirit world.
It is fantasy and fun.
So please enjoy, and rest assured that my only goal was to entertain without any of the junk the world puts in its books.
God Bless,
John
Excerpt from CROSSOVER
(The Chaser Chronicles #1)
“Okay Buddy, run this at me one more time. What is a Chaser?”
He launched into the explanation for the third time, with no apparent impatience.
“When a person dies, they cross over to the other side and into the presence of God. It’s the time when people see the ‘white light,’ like in those ‘near-death’ stories you hear about. During this time of crossing over, some individuals have the ability to resist the light, and they do. They don’t want to complete the journey, for one reason or another, and decide to run.”
I held up my hand. “What do you mean by ‘run’?”
“They’re called ‘Runners’ because they try to escape their fate and return to Earth. They seek to resume their life, despite the fact that they are dead, and attempt to circumvent God’s plan.”
“No coming back from the dead for us?”
“Exactly It is not for us to decide if the time of our death is convenient or not.”
“And you chase them?”
“Yes.”
“And return them to the ‘white light’?”
“Correct.”
“And I have to choose whether or not I will become a Chaser?”
“Yes.”
I stood up and carried my bowl to the sink. Buddy’s eyes followed me, but he didn’t move or say anything.
When I returned to the room, I started to laugh; I couldn’t help myself.
Buddy didn’t see the humor. “What are you laughing about?”
“What am I laughing about? Take your pick! All of these stories about Runners trying to escape God’s plan and Chasers setting them straight, or that someone would try to outrun God in the first place. Then there’s the gorilla in all black who tied me to my office chair, and last but not least, you who’s sitting here asking me to fulfill my calling as a Chaser. It’s all so incredible as to be ridiculous!”
“Do not mock the call of God.” He said it quietly, strongly, but without any malice.
“I’m not... At least, I don’t mean to. There’s so many questions to ask, ramifications to consider, and I don’t know where to start. For instance, what’s the job pay?”
I told you I’m sarcastic when I’m scared.
“There is no pay for this ministry!”
“I’m just kidding, Buddy.”
I returned to my seat and looked him directly in the eyes. What I really needed to know had nothing to do with how it all worked, or what the day-to-day life of a Chaser was like. What really mattered was inside Buddy.
“How long?”
He looked confused.
“How long what?”
“How long have you been doing this?”
His face softened, and his voice became strong, filled with pride.
“Thirty-five years, I’ve served for thirty-five years,” he paused before finishing. “I will serve for life. As will you if you choose this path.”
I could see it in him, but I needed to hear it.
“Are you at peace with the decision you made?”
For the first time since he came through the door, Buddy Daniels smiled. Not just a little smirk, but a wide grin of joy.
“I am.”
CHAPTER 1
Traffic was light coming into the city, and I found a parking spot easily. My fashionably rusty 1978 Ford Ranchero, which served as both a car and a pick-up, barely fit into the space more suited to a hybrid.
My office was located in downtown St. Louis, in a building that was at least a century older than I am. As such, I didn’t trust the elevator. I always used the stairs to reach my office on the second floor.
JACK CARTER INVESTIGATIONS was painted on my distorted glass office door, but in reality, I spent less time on private investigations than I did on my calling as a Chaser.
As I went to unlock the office door, I found it partially open. Pulling my gun and kicking the door open the rest of the way, I drew down on the figure standing near the window.
“You don’t have to shoot me, Jack. If you’d rather I didn’t visit, just say so.”
I put my gun away. “Buddy, I could’ve killed you!”
He rolled his eyes. “That would’ve been unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate for you!”
He laughed. “More so for you when Sarah got her hands on you.”
“Too true. She scares me more than you do.” Sarah was Buddy’s wife of thirty-plus years, and his spiritual partner in Chasing. Her prayers have pulled Buddy through a tight spot more than once.
Buddy Daniels was short, with just a ring of gray hair, and lively green eyes. He wore a white robe that flowed all the way to the floor and a leather belt with a wooden sword tucked in it. He was dressed today, and on all chase days, exactly as he had been the first time I met him.
On that day, he was following a Runner named Harbinger, and if my predicament at the time hadn’t been so dire, I would’ve burst out laughing. He looked like Yoda from Star Wars, and I’d half expected him to say ‘Here to save you, I am.’
“Are you on a chase?” I asked.
“Yes. Believe it or not, the Lord still calls on me from time to time. He hasn’t completely handed my job over to you yet.”
Buddy was my mentor. He’d trained me for my calling as a Chaser, and as I got busier, Buddy had been allowed to spend more time with his Sarah.
I moved over behind my desk just as the phone rang. “Jack Carter Investigations.”
“Jack, this is Brother Edwards.”
“Hi, Gary. Good to hear from you. What’s up?”
His somber tone made it clear this was not the time for pleasantries. “Jack, I need you to come over to Journey.”
“Okay. Why?”
“Brother Timmons is dead.”
I dropped into my desk chair. “What? How?”
“I don’t want to go over it on the phone. Can you come now?”
“Yes…Yes, of course.”
“Do you know where Brother Daniels is?”
I looked up at Buddy, whose face wore a questioning expression. “Yeah, he’s here with me.”
“Bring him with you.”
The phone wen
t dead, and I slowly laid down the receiver. Buddy stared at me impatiently. “Was that Gary Edwards?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t make me pull teeth. What did he say?”
“Brother Timmons is dead.”
Buddy’s face contorted into shock and confusion. “What…happened?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. Just asked me to come to Journey, and bring...”
Before I could finish the sentence, Buddy was moving toward the door. “Well, let’s go!”
CHAPTER 2
Journey Chapel was a chapel like Wrigley Field was a ball field. Located on a dead end street, the place was huge, and took up several acres, with manicured lawns, paved sidewalks, and at least six different entrances.
The front was dominated by a slender spire that rose up along the exterior of the building until the cross at the top touched the sky.
An electronic signboard scrolled service times and scheduled functions in a non-stop neon stream. Under the moving lights sat a smaller sign, hand painted in a simple script.
Gary Edwards - Pastor.
Today, the church campus was lit up with colored lights. Reds, blues, and ambers, all flashed in a chaotic dance.
I normally parked behind the church, but the entire parking lot was crowded with emergency vehicles and had been cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape, so I parked on the street.
As we got out and walked up to the tape, we had to push through a large group of onlookers. An officer stopped us before we could duck under the yellow strip. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to stay outside the lines.”
Buddy stepped in front of me. “We’re here at the request of Pastor Gary Edwards.”
The officer looked over his shoulder, then back at us. He took his radio off his hip. “Detective Myers?”
I heard the familiar voice of Amanda Myers come across the radio. “This is Myers.”
“This is Officer Knowles. I have two men here who say they were called by the church pastor.”
“What are their names?”
Officer Knowles looked at us, his eyebrows arched.
“I’m Buddy Daniels, and this Jack Carter.”
He repeated the names into the radio. Her response was immediate. “Let them through.”
Officer Knowles nodded at us and lifted the yellow tape.
As we walked across the lawn, two figures headed toward us. Leading the way was Detective Amanda Myers. Five-foot-six with an athletic build and blonde hair, which she always kept tied up in a bun when she was working, I’d know her since college.
In truth, I’d loved her since college, but never told her. I was sure she didn’t feel the same way, but we were best friends, and I treasured that.
“Jack, what are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Mandy!”
“Sorry, but I’m working a murder scene.”
I pointed at the man trailing behind her. “He called us.”
She turned, looked at Brother Edwards, then back at me. “The pastor?”
“Yup.” I gestured at Buddy. “You remember Buddy Daniels?”
“Sure. Nice to see you, Buddy.”
Brother Edwards caught up with us. Easily six-three, and a fit two hundred twenty pounds, he was usually smiling. Not today. He shook hands with both Buddy and me, then turned to Mandy. “They’re here to see me, Detective.”
We all started toward the back parking lot. As we walked, Gary Edwards tried to prepare us. “It’s gruesome. His throat was cut, slicing both the jugular and the carotid artery, and he bled out almost immediately.”
We got to a car surrounded by forensic people and evidence techs. Mandy knew I’d seen things like this before, but she had no way of knowing if Buddy was up to it. “Mr. Daniels, are you sure you want to see this?”
He dismissed her concerns. “I’ll be fine.”
Brother Timmons’s car was a non-descript blue coupe with black seats. Timmons was sitting in the driver’s seat, head back, the wound obvious. I could see no sign of a struggle.
Staring at the young man, I pictured his warm smile and remembered his enthusiasm for the ministry. I closed my eyes. Welcome him, Lord. Take away his pain and replace it with joy.
I opened them to find Mandy watching me. “Any suspects?”
Mandy shook her head. “We’re canvassing the neighborhood now. We’ve begun interviewing the church staff.” She looked at the pastor. “And we’ll need to speak with you as well, sir.”
“Of course.” He put a hand on both Buddy’s shoulder and mine. “May I talk with these two for a few minutes?”
“Sure. I have some things to attend to. Where will you be?”
“In my office.”
“Very well.” She walked off.
Brother Edwards turned to go, and I followed him, but Buddy lagged behind. I looked back to see him focused on the dead clergyman, so I went to him. “Buddy, you okay?”
When he looked at me, his eyes reflected fear, something I’d rarely seen from him. “It’s him.”
“Who, Buddy?”
“Harbinger. I can feel it in my spirit.”
I was stunned. Harbinger was a Runner, one Buddy and I had fought not long ago. We’d barely escaped with our lives. At over a century old, he was the most formidable Runner in this area, and nobody had been able to cross him over.
I hadn’t considered there might be a connection between the murder and the chasing ministry. “Are you sure? Timmons wasn’t a Chaser.”
“No, he wasn’t. Nevertheless, he was called to the ministry, and he’d accepted the role of Counselor. That made him fair game for Harbinger, especially in his war with you.”
“Me. You’re saying he killed Brother Timmons because of me?”
“Think about it, Jack. Who was Brother Timmons called to minister to?”
I knew the answer, but I didn’t like it. “Let’s not jump to conclusions here. It could be something completely unrelated.”
“It could be.” Buddy started to walk with me toward the chapel door, where Brother Edwards waited for us. “But I’m getting the same feeling I had when Justin was killed by Harbinger.”
Justin was Buddy’s mentor, and it had occurred to me the sight of another dead Counselor might have taken Buddy back to that day. “I hope you’re wrong, Buddy. I hope you’re wrong.”
*******
Once inside, we followed Brother Edwards along the deep purple carpet that ran down the long, stone hallway. Walking single file, passing the now familiar black-and-white portraits of past Counselors and Chasers, I stopped to look at the photo of Justin Maddox. If Buddy was right, Maddox was no longer the last to die at the hands of Harbinger. I shuddered at the thought.
The pastor’s office was the size of my house. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of the room on one side, and bookcases covered the wall opposite the windows. The carpet from the hallway spilled through the door, and waved toward the far end of the room, where a desk the size of a small car sat in front of a fireplace.
Mounted above the fireplace, a brass medallion nearly four feet in diameter, dominated the room. The picture in the center of the medallion showed a pathway leading into the sun, and some Hebrew writing, which translated to Complete the Journey, ran along the outer edge. It was the same emblem found on the Chasers’ swords and crosses.
Brother Edwards went over by the windows, looking out on the scene in the parking lot. Buddy and I both took seats near him. Nobody spoke for several minutes.
Finally, the pastor turned to us. “Buddy, what do you make of it? Do you think it’s tied to Brother Timmons’s ministry, or was it something else?”
“I believe we think the same thing.”
I hated being left in the dark. “Buddy thinks it was Harbinger. Does that mean you agree, Pastor?”
“It does. I’ve sensed the presence of the Runner since you and Buddy had your encounter with him. He’s been constantly around the fringes of Journey Chapel, as well as both Brother Timmo
ns and myself.”
“He’s been stalking you?”
Brother Edwards nodded. “I believe so.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I did, to Buddy.”
Like I said, I hated being left in the dark. “And you didn’t feel it necessary to share this with me?”
Gary Edwards walked over and sat in the chair next to me. “I didn’t want to complicate the situation until I knew for sure what the Runner’s plan was.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “And I was trying to protect you.”
Now I was angry. I felt patronized and excluded. I got up and started pacing. “I don’t need protection. Hasn’t God called me to this ministry? Hasn’t he equipped me to do this work?”
Neither man appeared phased by my outburst. In fact, they both seemed to be hiding a smirk. I stopped and looked from one to the other. “Okay, out with it!”
Brother Edwards got up and walked to me. He laid his hand on my shoulder, this time with one of his ironworker grips. “Jack, come sit down.”
Despite wanting to continue with my indignation, I felt the fight go out of me. I went with him and took my seat. He also sat back down, and leaned in close. “You just demonstrated the reason we didn’t tell you.”
I stared at him blankly, so he continued.
“The Spirit is strong in you, Jack. In addition, you have no fear, only faith. These make for a powerful Chaser, BUT…the people around you do not share the same advantages. Myself, Buddy, Brother Timmons, and even your family, are vulnerable to a Runner who decides to fight by his own rules. I was worried you would force the Runner’s hand by charging after him and put others in danger.”
He grew silent, and waited for me to understand, which I was beginning to. “But why now? What’s different from the last hundred years?”
JOURNEY (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 2) Page 1