"A resounding story of fatherhood, packaged as a tense thriller." - Kirkus Reviews
"The story is full of suspense and intrigue. The twists and turns, sub-plots, and the characters make it an interesting and compelling read. The plot and the characters are developed very well and the mystery and suspense keeps the book alive. The pace of the book will make readers want to finish it in one go. Assistant district attorney Ben Lovinson is a likable hero and the book also speaks about how he slowly grows up and moves from troubled young years to a happy married life." - Mamtan Madhavan, Readers' Favorite
"There is not just one hook, but several. At first they seemed disconnected and my interest level soared wondering how the author was going to stitch this patchwork quilt together. The answer is that C. Edward Baldwin does it with panache! Fathers House is well constructed and devilishly delicious reading." - Simon Barrett, Blogger Network News
"Throughout the book, Baldwin mischievously adds twist after twist, including suspicious suicides, witnesses who turn up missing, and gunfire during a funeral- a riveting action sequence." - Kirkus Reviews
Chapter 1
It was ironic, maybe even a little funny that every decision the agent had ever made in his entire life led to the two choices now before him. He sat at the table in the kitchen nook of his small apartment. The blinds were pulled tight, shutting out a gorgeous, bright morning. The sweaty palms of both his hands lay flat atop the surface of the table. Above his left hand lay his service revolver. Above his right hand lay his cellphone. He closed his eyes.
The irony was that either choice could be viewed as either bravery or cowardice. On the surface, putting a bullet to his head would take guts. The mere thought of metal blasting into his skull made his heart shiver. The pain would be intensely brutal, if only for a second. It was the thought of that second that gave him pause. Of course, after his body was discovered and people later found out what he’d done, they’d all say that he had taken the cowardly way out. No one would give him credit for withstanding that one brutal second. The funny thing was, if he chose the latter option it could eventually lead to him having to face the legal system. That could result in a lengthy prison sentence, but not the death he was so strongly contemplating now, which would anger the very people who would cry foul if he committed suicide. There was no pleasing some folk. Of course, that option would also mean continuing on as he had the past seventeen years, letting Father continue to control every aspect of his life. It would mean making the call to Father and giving the old man the information he’d requested.
It was cowardly not standing up to Father, not facing the music in the here and now. But it was surely an act of bravery to know that not putting a bullet into his own head today would ensure that one day he would have to publically acknowledge his past misdeeds. Sooner or later the agent would face the music. One day soon he would have to confess to God, and everyone else, all he’d done. That day would require great courage, all he’d be able to muster up. His heart trembled at the thought.
He squeezed his eyes closed tighter, and then his life flashed before him. He saw his mother in all her maternal splendor. Then, his father who was once there, then was gone, and then was there again. He saw his brothers, all of whom had been much older than he. It had always been as if he didn’t really have any brothers at all. Then again, there was Ben Lovison.
Ben had been a friend, a best friend, a blood brother. Their relationship had been thicker than any blood connection. It had been years since the agent had last seen him. It was even longer since the agent’s love and admiration for his blood brother had suddenly turned to envious thoughts and hatred. The agent quickly pushed that memory away, only to have it replaced with another painful one…Fathers House. Then he wondered if it was better to live in a house with invisible, yet obstructive walls, or if it was better to be trapped in a house where you could see the walls of your limitations. If one successfully, albeit unknowingly, navigated through a house with invisible walls, one would still have the sense of being free. But in a house with thick visible walls and locked doors, one would surely know that he was not free. Was blissful ignorance akin to freedom? Today the answer seemed so obvious. Trapped was trapped. And one day Ben Lovison would see the obvious. One day he was going to hit a wall and then realize just how trapped he’d been. At that time, maybe the agent would get his blood brother back. Shared pain always brought people together. Maybe then the two of them could figure out a way to get beyond the walls. That was, of course, if finding out the agent’s most atrocious act didn’t provoke Lovison to kill him first. Anyway, he had finally reached a decision.
He sighed, opened his eyes, and then after wiping his clammy right hand across the front of his shirt, he picked up the cellphone.