Author: David S. Brody
Title: Cabal of the Westford Knight: Templars at the Newport Tower
Paperback: 412 pages
Publisher: Martin and Lawrence Press
Genre: Historical fiction; suspense thriller
While trying to help an elderly couple save their home, attorney Cameron Thorne is thrust into a bloody tug-of-war involving secret societies, treasure hunters and keepers of the secrets of the Jesus bloodline. Joined by Amanda, a beautiful British researcher with secrets of her own, Cam races around New England with only two choices, unravel the 600-year-old mysteries encoded in the ancient Templar artifacts or die trying.
David S. Brody is a Boston Globe bestselling author named “Best Local Author” by the Boston Phoenix newspaper. He is a Director at Large of the New England Antiquities Research Association (NEARA). A real estate attorney, he resides in Westford, Massachusetts with his wife, novelist Kimberly Scott, and their two daughters. He coaches youth sports and Special Olympics and plays in adult hockey and softball leagues.
You can visit David online at http://www.davidbrodybooks.com/
The Monsignor crossed himself and bowed his head in a quick, silent prayer. He lifted his head and nodded, a nod that indicated agreement rather than merely understanding. “I need to be careful here — you and I, as attorney and priest, we are required to keep certain communications in strict confidence. So please excuse my oblique approach to this conversation.” He took a deep breath. “In the event you intend to continue to represent Mr. and Mrs. Gendron in this matter….” He paused and raised an eyebrow, offering Cam the opportunity to respond.
“Yes, I do. They need my help, and I’m responsible for what happened to Brandon — ”
The Monsignor lifted a hand to stop him, the silk robe rustling. “Nonsense. You did not plant the bomb. Whoever did so will have to answer to the proper authorities. In this world and the next.”
“Well, that may be but the Bobcat idea was mine.” He shivered, remembering Brandon’s bloodied body. “I’ll continue to represent them as long as they want me to. And I’m going to find out who did this to Brandon.”
“Good. I think they still need you. But I will suggest that you are only scratching the surface of this mystery, Mr. Thorne.”
“Wait. How do you know my name?”
The priest smiled. “I am familiar with your work in the sex abuse scandal cases.”
He appreciated Marcotte’s candor. In all the months he worked on the case, nobody from the Church had ever referred to the case as a sex abuse scandal. It was always ‘the allegations’ or ‘the incident’ or ‘the unfortunate conduct.’
“It took a lot of courage for you to do what you did. Leaking that testimony forced the Church to confront its crimes, to deal with its victims. Not many lawyers would have done what you did, risking your career like that.”
Cam smiled wryly. “Priests and lawyers. Not exactly the most popular members of society right now, are we?”
And to think, mothers used to dream of their children becoming lawyers or clergymen.” He took a deep breath. “But, getting back to the matter at hand, my recommendation is that you make an appointment with a young woman named Amanda Spencer. You can reach her through the Westford library. Do so soon. I’ve never met her personally but I believe she can shed some light on this matter.” He lifted his hand and stroked his chin. “But be careful. As you have seen, this is a volatile situation.”
Cam looked back toward the driveway. “I doubt McLovick will try anything else. He knows the police will be watching him.”
“Regarding Mr. McLovick, consider this: If he planted the bomb, it means he is certain there is a treasure buried here, which makes him — whether in jail or not — a continuing danger.” The Monsignor raised his index finger. “But perhaps he had nothing to do with the bomb. And if that is the case, then I think the danger is even greater.”
“I don’t follow.” Perhaps because his head was still ringing like a church bell.
“Well, if Mr. McLovick didn’t plant the bomb, then someone else did. Someone who saw the Bobcat and wants to keep both the Gendrons and Mr. McLovick from digging. Someone who probably knows for certain what is buried in the back yard.
“Well, then, who?”
The Monsignor shrugged. If he knew, he wasn’t telling.
Cam eyed the priest. Marcotte held his gaze without blinking, a steady, kind half-smile on his face. The words the bailiff used in the courtroom while swearing in witnesses popped into his head: “The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” He believed the priest was telling the truth and also probably nothing but the truth. But the whole truth, now that might be a different story.
The police finished questioning the Gendrons and Emily immediately broke away and moved toward Cam and Father Marcotte. The Monsignor turned to embrace her before glancing back at Cam. “Make sure you contact Ms. Spencer. I think you’ll be fascinated by what you learn.”