The Revelation: Waiting in the Shadows ~ Book 3

Gord--the son of Harry and Brenda, who are long-time friends of Joseph’s--has a serious drug and alcohol problem. Joseph tries to help the boy, but to no avail. Suffering from a lifetime of losses himself, Joseph has become a vigilante, determined to eliminate the undesirables of society, something he has become very good at, but he has no idea how to reach an eighteen-year-old boy and make him see reason. When Gord runs away from home after an argument with his parents and joins a cult group, Joseph enlists the help of his friend, Bill, a detective. But Bill has no more luck convincing the boy to come home than Joseph does. Knowing there is nothing more he can do, and hoping the boy will eventually come to his senses, Joseph goes back to what he does best--punishing people who prey on the innocent. It’s not a life he willingly chose, but one he was forced into when the system failed bring justice to him and other victims of these monsters. Resigned to his lonely and secretive life, Joseph searches out and dispatches the most heinous of criminals, until the suicide of a friend and a fatal mistake set Joseph’s world spinning out of control into a downward spiral from which he sees no hope of escape...

KUDOS FOR THE REVELATION

In The Revelation by Leonardus G. Rougoor, Joseph is still doing his vigilante work, removing the dregs of society who prey on innocent victims. His friend, Detective Bill Henderson, not only suspects what Joseph does in his secret life, but uses him on occasion to help with difficult cases. But Joseph doesn’t trust him enough to confide in him and struggles to keep his shadow life secret. He is very unhappy with this life he was forced into, and feels he can never be forgiven for his sins. Then when a friend dies, and Joseph makes a fatal mistake, his world is turned upside down, and he fears things will never be the same. Intense, compelling, and intriguing, this is one you won’t be able to put down. ~ Taylor Jones, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

The Revelation by Leonardus G. Rougoor is the third book in his Waiting in the Shadows series--the story of a man whose tragic losses in life, combined with the failure of the legal system to bring justice to those responsible, have set him on a path of destruction. Our protagonist, Joseph, lost his mother and two wives to murderers whom the police could not seem to catch, or if they did catch them, the sentences handed down by the court were too lenient to give Joseph closure. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Joseph sets out to avenge those helpless innocent victims that society fails. Seeking out not only the criminals responsible for the pain in his own life but others as well, Joseph searches online for the scum of the earth, delivering his own brand of justice--swift, brutal, and final. Even those villains he doesn’t kill are so traumatized they give up their life of crime and go into hiding. But he can’t take them all out, and when a close friend commits suicide because of abuses he suffered at the hands of some criminals, Joseph spirals out of control and makes the one mistake he never thought he would make. The Revelation is both a mystery/thriller and the saga of a troubled man living a life he didn’t choose but was forced into by desperation and anguish when the people he loved were brutally murdered. Poignant and chilling, it will keep you turning pages from beginning to end. ~ Regan Murphy, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

Other books by

Leonardus G. Rougoor

Waiting in the Shadows Series

Waiting in the Shadows

The Chase

The Revelation

The Clock Series

The Clock ~ Book 1

The Murderer and the Lost Treasure ~

The Clock ~ Book 2

The Revelation

Leonardus G. Rougoor

A Black Opal Books Publication

Copyright © 2018 by Leonardus G. Rougoor

Cover Design by Jackson Cover Designs

All cover art copyright © 2018

All Rights Reserved

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-626949-64-5

The Revelation

Preface

One second nothing, then there it was. The smoke was visible before the noise of the explosion reverberated across the water. When the bilge pump kicked in to pump out the gasoline in the hull area, the new wires spliced in had carried the current to other devices. The next part of the plan then came into play. More explosions, somewhat softer came across the water several minutes later.

The secondary explosives went off, and, as they did, holes were blown through the hull at various places. These had been placed far enough apart to cause the large vessel to start sinking quickly.

Flames poured out of the openings in the luxury yacht. Black smoke billowed into the air as the boat listed slowly over to its starboard side. I guided the boat I was on, closer to the yacht, while I kept an eye on the radar and GPS screens.

So far nothing was in the surrounding waters. Everything on the yacht had been happening quickly. If anyone was attempting to use the life rafts on board, they were in for an unpleasant surprise. I had slit the outer sides, when I was on the yacht, so they couldn’t inflate.

The bilge pump must have done its job and activated timers which set the whole scenario into action. The timing had been close to what was planned, but the delay had been nerve-racking.

As I approached speedily from a distance, the yacht slipped under the surface of the water in slow motion. I saw a few people in the water waving for assistance. Guiding the boat I was in to intercept them, I went to offer my assistance, sort of. When I was close enough, I saw the people in the water were mostly big overweight Italians. They called to me for help, expecting me to take them to safety. I was there for another reason.

Chapter 1

Joseph

Bill Henderson and I walked up to the front door of the home where my friends Harry, Brenda, and their kids, Eva and Gord, lived. Brenda opened the door, asking us to come in. It was immediately evident that she had been crying. Stepping into the living room, we saw a house in a bit of a shambles. A couple pieces of furniture were broken, and there was a fist-sized hole in the wall.

My heart sank as I took in the scene. What on earth happened here? I asked.

It’s Gord. He’s totally out of control. He’s gotten involved in drugs and went ballistic when we wouldn’t give him the money to pay off a dealer who’s after him. This is why we phoned you.

Where is he now? I asked.

He ran away and left his phone behind, so we have no way of getting in touch with him. We don’t know what to do, she said as the tears rolled down her face.

Bill knew exactly what to do. He was the police detective who caught Amy’s killer. Amy was my first wife. We had only been married a short time when she was brutally murdered. Her death closely paralleled my mother’s.

At this point, Bill took over, introducing himself to Brenda and Harry, who had just come downstairs. Do you know the name of the drug dealer who supplied your son? he asked. When she shook her head, he continued. You have no idea where you son may have gone? Does he have any friends who might shed some light on this situation?

Gord has dropped all his old friends and never talks much about anyone he associates with, Harry answered. There was an edge to his voice, one that wasn’t usually there.

This is typical behavior in this kind of circumstance, Bill said. How long has this been going on? Can you give me as many details as possible, including age, his computer passwords, and anything you feel may be relevant? Just write it on a sheet of paper and show me to his room, please.

I’ll show him up to Gord’s room if you like, I said, at which Harry nodded his head.

Up the stairs we went and into a room I had been in many times before. This used to be a boy who was pleasant to be around and respected his parents. Things changed dramatically, right after the first time he got drunk with a few boys from his school. This road had been especially difficult for my friends, and I felt so sorry for them.

Bill found the cell phone that was left behind and with very little effort managed to access the information in it. The two of us read a series of texts between Gord and someone called Jimmy. They spoke of money owed for drugs received. The amount of money was, for a boy in Gord’s position, quite high and amounted to several thousand dollars. It would be difficult for him to pay this off.

There also were several texts coming from and going to a person with very strange ideas. There was a phone number attached, and Bill said he would investigate the person. The drug dealer would also be visited and questioned as to Gord’s whereabouts.

Bill sat down at the computer and attempted to open it as well, but was stumped. Harry came into the room, handing over a sheet of paper with writing on it and was asked if he knew the password.

I haven’t been allowed to touch his things in quite some time. If you need to take it with you, please do, he said to the detective. We just want to find him.

How did your living room get into the condition it is, Bill asked.

My son asked for a considerable amount of money, and when we told him no, he became quite hostile before he ran away, Harry said with his head hanging down.

Bill continued his search of the room and only came up with a few more items of interest. One of the things he held in his hand was an information pamphlet. He cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow. This is strange. The phone number on the pamphlet is the same as on the phone text. It looks like Gord may have been recruited by a cult leader named Jeremy Baulthus. I’ve heard of this guy before. He and his sect prey on confused kids, who have gotten themselves into drug trouble, and make some wild promises of enlightenment, enticing them to join, he said. This is not good, not good at all.

With this, he picked up the computer and pocketed the cell phone. When he got to the front door, he said to the tearful parents, I’ll get the department techs to look into the computer, and I’ll handle this case personally.

Harry managed to get out a thank you and asked me to stay for a moment. When we were alone, Harry took me aside and, when he was sure Brenda couldn’t hear, said, There are things about you that I don’t know, but I do know that you have helped us before. You dealt with some pretty harsh people for us, and although you wouldn’t tell us how, you took care of them. If there is anything that you can do, please do it for us.

If I am able to do anything, without Bill finding out, I will. For now, we’ll have to let him handle things. He is a very capable man, so give him a chance. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s him.

With this, I left to head back home. This was not a problem I needed. I just came back from dealing with the man responsible for the death of Kathleen, my second and last wife. I’d made the decision to never get involved with a woman again. Almost everyone that I had ever cared about had been murdered.

Sometimes I thought about the things that made me what I was. I wouldn’t wish these things to happen to my worst enemy. The life-altering events that shaped me into a murderer, and worse, still haunted me.

Harry was right, he didn’t know much about me, if he did, he would never have had me in his company again, and no one else would either. Part of me lived in the shadows, a part that could never be revealed.

Chapter 2

Looking at me, you would never believe the things I’d done. It all started with the awful death of my mother. Her murderer got away with it for a long while. He and all his friends were paid back in one hot moment.

This deed opened a whole new life for me. Seeing all the pain and abuse everywhere affected me to the point that I started a mission in life--to help the underdog. This mission went on until I met Amy. She brought me back to a normal life, but she was taken from me, just like my mother. The man responsible for her death was dealt with too, permanently.

Pulled once more into the mire, I was forced back into a life I had hoped was gone. I have gone after only the worst offenders, people that didn’t belong in this world. The ones that I knew would never turn their lives around. It got a little hairy for me a few times as I almost got killed myself when some of my targets took exception to my endeavors. Some of my encounters, were, to say the very least, strange and even spooky.

Some people, I’m sure would say, I could never do those kinds of things. Until the buttons are pushed and pushed hard enough, you never know what you are capable of doing.

I worked at Salem Steel Fabrication in Salem Oregon. My job had me wearing several different hats. I was on the safety committee, quality control inspector, did machining and I trained inexperienced employees. The machining aspect of my job gave me the time, materials and the ability to make many of the tools used in my second career, taking out the trash, to put it politely.

The men I worked with were pretty good guys, but they knew nothing of what I did away from the job. In order to keep it that way, I found it necessary to become a loner. I was sometimes questioned about this but managed to divert any real probes in other directions. This was most true when I was for a time, in Bill Henderson’s sights. It took quite a unique plan to get him off my tail. Since then we became very good friends and a couple of times even partners in crime, strange as that may seem.

For someone who had as much tragedy in their life as I did, I think I’d come through it fairly well, of course, not everyone would share this opinion I’m sure, oh well, on with the task at hand.

Chapter 3

On my way home, I thought about how things had changed so dramatically for Harry and Brenda. They’d been my friends for years and were the ones who introduced me to Amy. Harry was in real estate and helped us buy our first home, waiving the fees. This same home was where I lived on my own again.

I tried to help Gord a few times in the past, but once he started drinking his whole attitude changed. He went from being a nice boy to a surly, unhappy person and later got into the drug scene. Eva managed to stay away from the shit in life and was an honor student at the university.

Harry had relatives that had drinking and mental health problems. Maybe this kind of thing ran in families. I wanted to help my friends but waited to see what Bill could do first. If he solved the problem, I wouldn’t have become too involved in something so close to home. This was one of the things that kept me out of prison. It was time for a good work out. That usually helped take my mind off things for a while.

As I lay awake in bed, thoughts of the chase that led me to Dennis Jackson and the heart to heart I had with him went through my head. I was glad I dealt with him the way I did. If I had done to him what I did to Jake Patterson, I was sure I would have been adversely affected again. It took me quite a while to get over the trauma of that incident.

Drifting off to sleep, I had some of the nightmares that had plagued me most of my adult life. As happened to me several times in the past, I was being shot at and wounded by some of the people I was trying to kill. No matter how I justified my actions, there always seemed to be a part of me that had a hard time dealing with it. Why else would I keep having those dreams?

I woke up in the morning and saw out the window that it was a beautiful day. After a bit of yard work, I drove to see Ben and went horseback riding. This helped me organize my thoughts, and gave me the time to look at my future a bit more objectively. Ben owned a riding stable outside of town, on a nice size ranch with lots of trails.

The ride through the grassy fields and along the stream, meandering through the woods brought me to a place of reflection. In order to take my mind off the problem with Gord, I’d gone on the internet and found a suitable next target. Every now and then, a need built up in me to correct a wrong. This involved removing a person that had committed crimes against society and would very likely never change his ways. The research usually gave me a number of choices. There never seemed to be a shortage of assholes that needed an intervention, a permanent one.

Once online I went to the sites that in the past had given me so much information on known criminals. The CDC, Citizens Discussing Crime, I had long suspected of having members of the law enforcement agencies. They were the only ones who would be privy to much of what I found there. There were several other sites such as Seeking Justice, Crime Everywhere, and a special one called V-anonymous, V for Vengeance. Of course, the last one I thought had members on both sides of the law.

Searching, I found the usual suspected rapists, wife beaters, pimps, and drug dealers. My old pals from the Klan were found as well as other hate groups that I dealt with in the past. The Klan had accounted for the highest body count of any of my missions to date. Cartels were still in business, but they were too big for me to tackle. They hired ex-mercenaries who were a bit out of my league unless I could do a hit and run.

Those stinking priests who molested young boys popped up every now and then. Why did people attend that church if there was a chance their child would have long-term damage inflicted on them? I would like to pay a few of those men a visit and make it so their vows of chastity were easier to live up to. Man, those pedophiles pissed me off. I got more irritated each time I heard about them and their perversions.

Finally, a story about organized crime stared out of the screen at me. The head of a major family lived on the west coast. The exact area was not given, but that wouldn’t be too hard to find. This group had intimidated, murdered, forced into prostitution, and made life hell on earth for many people. Just for the love of power and money. The accused person’s face was not shown, but that also wouldn’t be too hard to find.

The story painted a picture of bribes and corruption by a group that had been a real blight on America for a long, long time. I thought that I should look into the problem just a little more. The sites I frequented would help me gather the information I needed to start making my plans.

Mario Castelli became fabulously wealthy on the backs of others. I thought that a substantial withdrawal was in the cards for Mario. How this was going to be done was totally up in the air, but that had never stopped me in the past, so why should it now? The feeling of excitement that occurred in me, when a decision was made, started flowing through me.

Monday, I was back at work, with the job going well for the most part. The strain I was under leading up to the meeting with Dice man, Dennis Jackson, disappeared. The guys I worked with noticed the change in me. The explanation I gave alluded to the fact that I had a great time off. If they only knew, they might not be so happy with me.

Bill called me Tuesday after work and let me know that he had spoken with the dealer. He informed him that Gord was the son of a personal friend. Unless the dealer wanted to have the law on his case every day, it would be best that he absorbed his losses and left the boy alone. The dealer, John Neubert, decided that it was in his best interest and accepted the offer. He knew full well that he would be on the detective’s radar more than ever if he didn’t cooperate. He would have more trouble than he knew what to do with, something he didn’t want.

I’ve checked into the possibility that Gord is with the cult and talked to the leader on the phone, Bill told me. I will be meeting with him tomorrow. I told him if the boy is there, he better have him at the meeting, or I’ll get a search warrant.

Have you talked to Harry and his wife about this yet?

"I have. They want to go with me when I talk to Jeremy Baulthus, the leader of ‘The Light of Promise,’ some weird, pseudo-religious organization. I told them no, this isn’t the way an investigation is done. I’ll keep them informed as to what happens, though. The Baulthus group has around twenty five members at a farm on the edge of town.

Jeremy inherited it from an off-the-wall uncle a few years ago. He was left with a fair amount of money in a trust fund too, Bill said. This guy fancies himself a leader along the lines of that wackjob, Jim Jones, who was in the news years ago.

So what you’re telling me is that we should get the boy out of there?

Bill sighed. That may be a bit harder than it sounds. I don’t think that any laws have been broken, and no one is forced to stay, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the members are brainwashing new recruits.

Let me know how it goes, all right?

Will do, Joseph, he answered and hung up.

Chapter 4

Bill

Bill was on his way to meet with Jeremy Baulthus, driving down Conifer Street, where it crossed the Little Pudding River. A plume of dust rose into the air. As he went over the bridge, he turned left down another gravel road for a half mile, leaving a trail in the air, letting anyone who might be watching know of his approach.

Parking his car, he stepped out facing a group of buildings. In the forefront, was a large two story farm house with a wrap-around veranda facing toward the river. The rest of the buildings looked more like bunkhouses, except for one that might have at one time, been an enclosed horse riding arena.

Bill scanned the area, taking in everything in order to be familiar with the place, in case he needed to come back quickly. The sun was hot on his back, as he walked to the steps leading up to the veranda; Bill was confronted by a girl of about twenty years of age. She was slender, had blonde hair, and wore a red T-shirt with the logo, Light of Promise, across the front in black.

May I help you? she asked with no warmth in her voice whatsoever.

I’m here to see Mister Baulthus.

Follow me, she said as she turned and walked into the house.

A man of about thirty was seated at a desk in the first room off to the right. As Bill entered, the man got up and shook the detective’s hand, introducing himself as Reverend Jeremy. There were no plaques on the walls, so he must have been one of those self- professed ministers, the ones without credentials. He stood at five foot ten and had a fairly athletic body. His brown hair was kept short, and there was an intense look about him. His eyes, like the girl’s, had no warmth in them at all as he squinted at the detective.

Getting to the point, he asked, What can I do for you?

I’m looking for a young man by the name of Gord, son of Harry and Brenda Motters. I was told he might be staying here, Bill said.

Has he done something illegal?

No, his parents are worried and want him to come home.

What if he doesn’t want to leave here? Jeremy asked.

He is underage, and we can have him removed, if necessary. I doubt that you want that.

I am told that he is turning eighteen tomorrow and that makes him no longer answerable to his parents. I am correct in this, am I not? Jeremy questioned.

Tomorrow, that will be true, but not today.

We aren’t going to quibble over one day, are we? Jeremy asked, frowning.

Why don’t you have him brought here, and we’ll go on from there? It’ll save some trouble for both of us.

Looking past the detective, Jeremy shouted out through the door, Melanie, can you bring the new recruit, Gord, here?

Without a word, she turned and walked out of the house. There had been no further talk between the two men, as Jeremy started writing in what looked like a journal.

Looking up after a few minutes, he said, We don’t force our members to be here, you know? We are here to save these youngsters from themselves. The people of the community should be thanking us, not persecuting us the way they have been.

Bill looked at the man across the desk. "I guess the community worries about how you get the members to stay here, because once they are here, all communication with their families is cut off. Most believe that you and your helpers take the youth when they are most vulnerable and twist their heads around. By the time you’re finished, they hardly know who they are anymore."

We do no such thing. We offer enlightenment and a better way of living, Jeremy said, raising his voice angrily.

At this point, a young man walked into the house stopping in the doorway of the room.

Bill got up. Are you Gord Motters?

Yes.

Could you come outside with me so we can speak in private? Bill asked.

Jeremy got up and was about to object. But because he was not the boy’s guardian, he knew he could not interfere without causing himself more trouble, so he sat back down. Bill and Gord walked outside, and when they were far enough from the house not to be overheard, Bill communicated his concerns to the boy.

Your parents are very worried about you and want you to come home, Gord.

If they were so worried, why didn’t they help me when I asked for the money?

You know that wouldn’t have fixed the problem. Come on, you know as well as I do that you would still have been using and back in the same boat soon enough. You would have been back with your hand out, demanding they give you more money. In the end, you would have drained your parents of everything they have worked for all these years. Listen to me, I talked with John, and he has agreed to wipe out your debt, but he never wants to see you again. I hope you know he means it. You could well get hurt, Bill told the surly boy.

Whatever. I’m still not going back, and if you make me, I’ll just come back here tomorrow. You won’t be able to do anything about it then.

How about talking to your parents? I’ll call them now if you want, the detective said, trying to get the boy to see reason.

I don’t want to talk to them, not now, not ever. If they cared at all about me, they would have helped me when I asked them for money. I don’t care what you say, Reverend Jeremy is my friend, not them. Just leave me alone, he shouted angrily with his face turning red, just as he spun on his heel and ran away, leaving the policeman shaking his head.

On the phone, his conversation with Brenda was not a happy one. The information was relayed and the decision made to leave Gord where he was.

I know this is not what you want to hear, but I don’t think you have a choice. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, he said to the sobbing mother.

Chapter 5

Joseph

Harry, broken-hearted, relayed the information to me and let me know there was little to be done. How does a boy turn away from his family so quickly? he asked. He was such a good boy for so long, and then, all of a sudden, everything got turned upside down.

This kind of thing is really common these days. I see it at work all too often. Drugs have ruined many lives, and there is little that can be done to prevent it. I’m so sorry, Harry.

I thought about going to see the little goof I’d known for years but remembered our last conversation and how it went. No, this would have to run its course. Maybe he’d get his act together and reach out, but I doubted it. In a few months, I might go see him. In the meantime, Mario Castelli and I needed a rendezvous. These kinds of people pissed me off a lot, and soon my thoughts turned from Gord to a new direction.

Going online, I gathered what information I could, there was plenty on this guy and his friends. He was the head of a crime family, and it looked like he would do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted, and he wanted everything. After requesting information from the sites, I got a lot. This guy must have