The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Safecracker, written in 2019, is my seventh novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Fred Martin, a 1972 graduate of Boaz High School, returns to his hometown after practicing law and living in Huntsville for over thirty-five years with two goals in mind. First, to distance himself from the loss of Susan, his wife of thirty-seven years who died in 2013 of cancer. And second, to partner with his lifelong friend, Noah Waters, to crack the safes of Elton Rawlins and Doug Barber, two men who got under their skin as high school football players.
Little did Fred and Noah realize the secrets the two old Mosler safes protected. Who murdered three Boaz High School seniors in the fall of 1973? Is a near-half-century-old plan to destroy Fred’s sister and steal the inheritance from a set of 44-year-old illegitimate twins still alive and well? How far would Fred’s mother go to protect her family?
What starts out as an almost innocent prank, turns life-threateningly serious the more Fred learns and the more safes he cracks. All, while he falls in love with Connie Stewart, his one-date high school classmate who may conceal a secret or two herself.
Chapter 7
It was our third meeting. Pastor Caleb said he liked to keep business within the family as much as possible. He was referring to his church family. I was glad I was the most active life insurance agent who was also a member of First Baptist Church of Christ.
Caleb and his wife Tabitha and their twin boys, Matthew and Michael, were relatively new to the area. They had moved to Boaz a few months ago for Caleb to shepherd this nearly one-hundred twenty-year-old church. He had spent the past ten years as lead pastor at First Baptist Church of Prattville, Alabama.
Caleb was the first pastor in the church’s history whose last name was not Tillman. I had learned from reading Lucille Wright’s, A Short History of Boaz Churches, there had been six Tillman’s who had pastored the church since its founding in 1892. The most recent, Warren Tillman, had been killed in a home invasion less than a year ago. From what I had heard, if it hadn’t been for some serious legal troubles for Walter and Wade Tillman, Warren’s grandfather and father, the church would have continued with the family name as its senior pastor. Many in the church had breathed a breath of fresh air when Caleb was called. I think it was probably because he was a Boaz native that tipped the scales in his favor. He was a 1990 graduate of Boaz High School and had grown up here at First Baptist.
Today, Pastor Caleb and I were finalizing the paperwork required to hopefully secure him a million-dollar life insurance policy. His purpose was to provide financial security to his family in the event of his death. I didn’t expect any issues with underwriting since Caleb appeared in good health and had steady employment. I had brought in attorney Trevor Nixon to address Caleb’s legal questions. Although I was still a licensed attorney I thought it best to wear only my life insurance agent hat. Trevor had drafted a Revocable Life Insurance Trust to own and control Caleb’s policy.
We met in a small conference room beside Caleb’s office on the third floor. After he signed the life insurance application I slid over to him a checklist that Alfa strongly encouraged its agents to give to each of their clients. It was titled, “The Don’t Forget Checklist.” I said, “I encourage you to read and implement each of these.”
Caleb laid his pen down and scanned the list. “Number three recommends I discuss my estate plan with my family. I’ve done that. Number four talks about keeping my documents in a secure and accessible location known to my executor and trustee, since I am establishing a trust. Tabitha wants us to rent a safety deposit box.”
“That’s a good idea. I wish I could convince a lot of my other clients to do that. It seems most of them just put their important papers in a desk drawer. This could cause a lot of grief to survivors, especially if there were a fire and the documents were destroyed. Wills and trusts turned to ashes aren’t much help.” I said.
“I’m not going to make that mistake. The church has an old safe down in the basement. I talked with Elton Rawlins, bless his heart, before he and Rebecca left for their Gulf Shores trip. He said the only problem was as far as he knew, the church had lost the combination. I hope to have that solved. Yesterday, I asked Betty Tillman if she would look through her late husband’s things, or maybe write her imprisoned son Wade and ask if he knew the safe’s combination.”
“Sounds like it might be simpler just to rent a box at the bank, like Tabitha suggested.” I said.
“You’re probably right but there is just something about those old safes. It’s like they have a mind, maybe even a heart. I guess I’m hoping me and the old Mosler can have a long conversation with it unloading a ton of memories.”
I just looked at Caleb as he shared how he loved history and wanted to know everything he could about the many roads our church had traveled over its long and honorable history.
I let him talk for thirty more minutes before I invented a meeting I had back at the office. Pastor Caleb was certainly an interesting character but what intrigued me most of all was his mentioning the church owned a Mosler safe. I made a mental note to review Papa Martin’s journals when I arrived home later tonight.
After spending a couple of hours in the office responding to phone messages, I drove to Mom and Dad’s. For three weeks now, she had hosted a family reunion of sorts. It wasn’t unusual for Deidre to join us three on a Thursday night for dinner, but once again she brought not only Ed, but their two children and their families.
After another fantastic meal by Mother everyone left except for Deidre. Mom made Dad help her clean up the kitchen while Deidre and I sat out on the screened-in back porch. I took advantage of this opportunity and asked her if she remembered anything about the 1973 Bible burning. For some reason, I couldn’t get that visual image out of my mind.
“Have you heard how Elton Rawlins is doing?” I thought I would ease indirectly into my chosen subject.
“He’s hanging on by a thread from what I hear. The surgery, from all accounts, was successful in stopping the internal bleeding but he’s still in very serious condition.” Deidre didn’t say where she had received her news.
“I bet this is very difficult on his wife.”
“It is. Rebecca said the doctors are coordinating with UAB doctors to get Elton transferred to Birmingham.”
“You’ve talked with Elton’s wife?” I asked.
“Through Facebook, Messenger.” I started to call her but knew she was probably bombarded with phone interruptions. I’m going to see her just as soon as they are in Birmingham.”
“I take it you two are still friends. You two graduated together, didn’t you?” I asked.
“Other than Ed, she is one of my best friends. She’s a remarkable woman, especially for what she’s been through.” Deidre said.
“It’s funny we’re talking about her. I ran across an old photo the other day at the library. I think it was taken in December 1973. Do you remember anything about Rebecca and a Bible-burning bonfire?”
“Gosh, there’s a picture of that? I’m surprised there is even a single ash remaining of that horrible night.”
“Tell me about it. When I saw the photo, I realized I had never heard about it since Susan and I were already living in Auburn.”
“I’m not sure what exactly triggered Rebecca and four of our classmates to rebel. But, they started giving Brother Randy, you know, youth pastor Randy, hell on wheels.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m cloudy on a lot of the details but it seems there had been a guy from Chicago who had lived in Boaz for a while. He, I can’t remember his name, was an atheist. He was in the eleventh grade when Rebecca and I were in the ninth. Anyway, apparently, he had some influence on a few people. Rebecca and her gang kept confronting Pastor Randy and basically arguing the Bible was made-up, you know what.”
“So, according to the photo, Rebecca and her friends burned their Bibles?” I asked.
“If my faith hadn’t been so strong I probably would have gone along with her. Anyway, things turned out for the good. All five of the culprits wound up returning to the fold. I guess they realized the error of their ways. I think Brother Randy and a few of the deacons took a real interest in the wayward teenagers.”
“That’s all you remember?” I asked.
“Yea, pretty much.”
“You said, or I thought you indicated, Rebecca had experienced a lot of hardships. Were you talking about the Bible-burning episode or something else?”
“Since we graduated, Rebecca has had a lot of bad luck. That’s not right. In truth, God had to take her through some tough lessons. She’s lost two husbands, one child, and both parents.”
“All lost to sickness? God inspired?”
“Don’t go there. No, I guess that’s what made it even harder for her. Car wrecks, a house fire, and an unsolved murder. Tragedy with a capital T.” Deidre said making me wonder how on earth one person could overcome such losses. It had been four years since I lost my dear Susan, and many days I could barely go. I couldn’t imagine losing most all my family, and especially if I lost them because of accidents and crime.
I was just about to ask Deidre a little more about how Brother Randy helped Rebecca back into the fold when Mom and Dad walked in. After fifteen minutes of Mom asking Deidre questions about life after death and at what point the believer received a new body, I excused myself, indicating I had a phone call I had to make.
The Pencil-Driven Life 