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Harvest House Publishers - Craig Parshall

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165 pages

English

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Tim LaHaye called The Resurrection FileCraig Parshall's first novel"one of the most fascinating books I have read in years." Parshall continues with Custody of the State, another legal thriller with tightly drawn characters, tense courtroom scenes, and the struggle of a man to bring his beliefs into real life.Attorney Will Chambers reluctantly agrees to defend a young mother from Georgia and her farmer husband, suspected of committing the unthinkable against their own child. Soon he's confronting small-town secrets, big-time corruption, and a government system that's destroying the little family. Chambers must ask, does God really protect us from evil?as intimidation, backroom maneuvering, and the shadow of a national threat throw him into...the custody of the state.

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Publié par	Harvest House Publishers
Date de parution	01 février 2003
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780736960397
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Verses marked NASB are taken from the New American Standard Bible , 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
The following Scripture quotations in this book are not identified in the text:
chapter 1: Joshua 24:15
chapter 46: Matthew 14:10-12
chapter 51: Psalm 91:4 NASB
Cover by Left Coast Design, Portland, Oregon

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. It is the intent of the author and publisher that all events, locales, organizations, and persons portrayed herein be viewed as fictitious.
CUSTODY OF THE STATE
Copyright 2003 by Craig L. Parshall
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Parshall, Craig, 1950-
Custody of the state / Craig Parshall.
p. cm. - (Chambers of justice ; bk. 2)
ISBN 978-0-7369-1026-2 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-6039-7 (eBook)
1. Custody of children-Fiction. 2. Child abuse-Fiction. 3. Georgia-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3616.A77 C87 2003
813 .54-dc21
2002013757
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author s and publisher s rights is strictly prohibited.
Dedication
To John DiFrancesca, my friend and brother-in-law:
for his dedication to his children-and his faithfulness to Him who created the first family and who beckons us all to join His eternal family
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
The Accused
The Resurrection File
Acknowledgments
I am deeply indebted to Marilyn Clifton, my administrative assistant, for her tireless legal research that helped to inject reality into this fictional story; to Barbara Henderson for her painstaking keyboard work on the manuscript, as well as general research on everything from meteorology to geography; and to Sharon Donehey, as always, for her faithful handling of countless details that attend the preparation of a book, from inception to the final rush to make the deadline.
A special thanks is due, again, to Paul Gossard with the editorial staff at Harvest House Publishers-his eye is keen, and his sense of the story and of the characters involved is ever insightful. My wife, Janet, and my four children made a massive contribution to this story, simply by teaching me the primacy of parenting and the essence of family.
The inspiration for this story really springs from my experience, during a 27-year practice of law, representing parents and families who found themselves at the blunt end of government abuse. We have the greatest legal system in the history of the world-but when our courts and our law enforcers aim their considerable power at dedicated parents and law-abiding families, the results can be tragic.
And in that regard, I am also thankful to those attorneys around the nation alongside whom I have had the privilege of fighting to help protect the integrity-and the sanctity-of the family.
1
T HAT MORNING BROUGHT THE usual sounds and smells as the family gathered for breakfast inside the kitchen of the white farmhouse-the one with the long, dirt driveway that wound through the soybean fields and that eventually connected to the county trunk highway.
Buried in the rural quiet of the Georgia countryside, the family gathered for the rituals of the routine and the mundane. Within the house, it all felt familiar. The daily patterns of their home had sheltered them. The life of the Fellows family had become predictable, the only major variations being those of weather, season, and the market price of soybeans, and occasionally Mary Sue s schedule as a part-time nurse. Though their life was lived on a farm with the usual machinery, tools, and field chemicals, it had been a safe one.
At a quarter after six, there was only the slight heaviness of early-morning fatigue, but nothing else. The family was beginning the day in the usual way. They were cradled in the details of the normal. They were safe.
Outside, the house was tidy enough, but the careful eye could detect signs of minor neglect. The paint was peeling slightly. The red shutters set the white wood siding off nicely, but one hung a little off-kilter, the casualty of a storm. Joe Fellows, a thirty-year-old farmer who managed his sixty-acre soybean farm almost single-handedly, had promised Mary Sue that he would get to those odd jobs. But he never seemed to be able to find the time.
Joe, Mary Sue, and Joshua, their four-year-old, were halfway through breakfast. Joe had been up since a quarter to five. After an hour s work he d ducked back into the house, tossed his International Harvester baseball cap down, stripped off his red plaid coat, and sat down for breakfast. Now he was slurping from a mug of coffee.
Mary Sue was dancing between the stove and Joshua s place at the barn-board table where her son was catapulting food off his plate with glee. Like a baseball player caught between first and second base, bowl in hand, Mary Sue moved slightly toward the stove, then toward the table, then toward the stove again. With one hand she was trying to scoop more scrambled eggs into the bowl from the frying pan, and with the other she was reaching out toward the table, pointing her index finger at Joshua.
Joshua, no! she yelled. Don t throw your food.
Joshua, a skinny, pale boy with big hazel eyes and brown hair, was grinning widely. He tossed more eggs off his plate.
Mary Sue stopped and pulled a long strand of her strawberry-blond hair away from her face. As she stared at Joe, who was reading the market prices in the paper, her pale blue eyes, usually soft and inviting, started to flash into anger, as they could do in seconds.
I could use a little help here, Mary Sue snapped out to her husband.
Joshua, don t, Joe said nonchalantly from behind the newspaper.
That was a great help, thanks, she shot back, her pretty features starting to flush. Will you reinforce the rules at the table, please?
Okay, Joe responded, smiling. Then he slowly lowered the paper from his face as Joshua watched intently. As his face was revealed, Joe crossed his eyes, bared his teeth, and growled in a bearlike voice, D-o-n- t t-h-r-o-w y-o-u-r f-o-o-d!
Joshua rocked with giggles in his little chair.
Mary Sue tried to muster up the appropriate anger, but gave up as she started laughing a little herself.
You re hopeless, she said to Joe, who seemed pleased that he and his son had waged a small but successful rebellion together.
As Mary Sue walked over to her husband with the bowl of eggs, he pushed himself away from the table.
You haven t finished your plate, she said.
I ve got a lot of work to do.
How about your work in setting a good example for Joshua?
What are you talking about?
Eating habits. Children pick up bad eating patterns by watching the parents.
Whether I finish my plate or not has nothing to do with Joshua not eating.
Then what is the reason? The doctor doesn t know. I can t figure it out. And when he does eat, sometimes he throws up. That isn t normal. He s not gaining weight. I think there s something serious going on.
Look, Joe said, you re the medical expert-
I m a nurse. That doesn t make me an expert.
I ve got a farm here that doesn t take care of itself. Soybean prices are going down. Weather reports don t look good. I m not trying to blow you off, honey, but I ve got a lot going on.
Your family is your first priority, Mary Sue replied sharply.
You want my two cents worth? Joe said. I don t think that Dr. What s-his-name knows what he s doing with Joshua.
What is his name? Mary Sue asked, her eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest.
I don t know Joe searched his memory for a minute, Dr. What s-his-name. I can t remember. What s the difference?
When was Joshua s last checkup? Mary Sue asked.
Joe gestured as if he were going to answer, then stopped. After a second he said, Last week.
Wrong. This week. Two days ago, Mary Sue replied. Then she added, No further questions, Your Honor. Mr. Fellows is found guilty of being too busy for his family.
Joe sauntered over to his wife with a stern expression of his own. Mary Sue gazed into Joe s blue eyes, looking over his square jaw and the dark blond hair that framed his face with an unkempt swatch that hung