A special thanks to Goddess Fish Promotions for sending a special excerpt from Descent from Truth to share with you today at The Library. A randomly chosen commenter will receive an autographed hardcover version of the author's previous book, The Price of Sanctuary. You can see the other stops on the tour here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/07/excerpt-tour-descent-from-truth-by.html.
Alex's mood lightened as he watched Frederick eat. Seated in a highchair in the restaurant, the little guy pushed scrambled eggs into his mouth with both hands. But Pia belonged in the picture. An image of her sitting where his father was now, reaching from time to time to wipe errant egg from Frederick's face or to adjust the plastic bib the restaurant had supplied, stirred his rage anew. I’ll get her back, he vowed silently. For both of us.
Frederick, no longer hungry, began to fidget and fret. The colonel distracted him with teaspoons, handing them to him one by one. Giggling, Frederick tossed them onto the floor.
“Have you worked out a strategy?” the colonel asked Alex between tosses.
“Yes sir. I know exactly what I’m going to do.”
“I don't want to hear details. Just enough so I know you have a reasonable chance.” The colonel placed another spoon in Frederick's hand. “I don't mind having Freddy for company while you do whatever you think you must. But I need some assurance that you'll be able to reclaim him.”
Overnight rest had erased Alex's uncertainty. “If Pia's at Silver Hill, I'm going to get her. If she isn't there, I'll look for her in Peru. She’ll be with Faust, and he won’t be that hard to find.”
“Don't worry about Freddy,” the elder Bryson said. “Wherever I am, that's where he'll be. I won't tell you where. That way, nobody can get it out of you.”
Alex absorbed that while his father leaned down to collect spoons from the floor. The colonel handed one of them to Frederick and pulled a cash-stuffed envelope from his briefcase. He pushed the envelope across the table.
“Colonel, I . . .” Alex wanted to say Dad, but his mouth wouldn't form the word. “I want you to know . . .” His vocal chords refused to cooperate.
The colonel passed another spoon to Frederick and laid a hand on Alex's arm. “You do what you have to, son. I'm your home base.”