The numbers were of no comfort to Shad. He was convinced Wally was a molester because first he was a pedophile – someone who was physically attracted to children, usually of a specific age and gender. And Shad had no guarantee that even while he was such an easy target for Wally the man didn’t turn his affection toward a few boys on the side. Odds were Wally had molested more than fifteen boys. At least Shad was also convinced that Wally wasn’t simply an opportunist who took advantage of any child just because he or she became accessible to him. Those types of molesters usually turned out to be the really dangerous ones because their motivation wasn’t based on attraction. They committed the act because those children were simply there and convenient to victimize.

He wasn’t going to think about Brody.

The one thing the different types had in common was their ability to continue their lives in relative peace and security while upsetting the lives of victims. They were able to keep the children silent by abuse of power. The control might be as blatant as threatening to hurt or kill the child or a family member or a pet if the victim told anyone. It might be as subtle as Wally’s technique of convincing the child this was normal behavior, and also by keeping the boy’s trust with attention and gifts. Children were commonly told that nobody would believe them if they said anything, and unfortunately this could easily be the case if the molester were a friend or part of the family ... and many of them were.

There was, however, another possibility for Shad to consider.

Often when these predators were caught they were sent into counseling. Statistically the counseling didn’t seem to help much because the majority of perpetrators would commit the same offense again. Occasionally counseling did seem to help when certain individuals voluntarily entered therapy even though they weren’t caught. But those people genuinely wanted to stop that activity. Regardless, as far as pedophilia went, nobody knew what caused it and therefore nobody had figured out how to eradicate it.

There was no such thing as coincidence. Shad figured there had to be a reason he discovered Wally now, only weeks after he could no longer press criminal charges. Maybe Wally had changed his ways ... but if that were the case, why did Shad have to stumble upon that article at all? Was this some kind of trial to determine if Shad was becoming the kind of lawyer his parents should have been able to get seventeen years ago? Was he being challenged to think outside the boundaries of the law in order to secure justice?

Wasn’t he getting enough of that already with Charissa’s case?

Because Shad wound up adopted into a branch of faith that proclaimed God was still an active participant in humanity’s affairs, and it was the responsibility of humanity to respond to His calling, Shad became a lawyer. As much as that sounded like an oxymoronic statement, it was still the result of Shad’s first discernment that he was actually receiving divine inspiration. Although the Society of Friends affirmed that everyone had equal access to God, Shad often doubted he shared that much potential. Certainly he had benefited from the inspiration received by others, but his personal experience demonstrated more “quality” than quantity. Begrudgingly he became an attorney. At least his marriage to Dulsie seemed like a celestial reward. But now he had to struggle with what to do about Wally.

And the very fact he harbored reluctance about investigating the man produced evidence Shad had been assigned the obligation to do exactly that. For many reasons it would be easier to turn his back on this discovery and convince himself that Wally was no longer a threat, rather than contend with such a difficult assignment.

But children’s lives could be at stake. And if Shad became an attorney because he was supposed to defend the rights of the disadvantaged, then he had to fulfill his responsibility. Giving up this challenge would only be an act of cowardice and a mockery to his family.

Chapter Five

See, I refine you, but not as silver; I test you in the furnace of affliction.

--Isaiah 48:10

The meeting house for the local congregation of the Society of Friends, better known to most of the world as Quakers (when they weren’t being confused with Amish or Mennonite), was a simple, white, rectangular building that stood amidst trees along the rural highway. There wasn’t any kind of signage to designate the structure’s purpose, and this was mostly because no name had ever been assigned to it. The Friends of Osage County didn’t need to differentiate themselves from any other groups of Friends in the area because there were none. In a county where the Catholics outnumbered every other variety of denomination, the Osage Friends congregation was the smallest of the small.

Comprised of never more than a dozen families, mostly farmers, they were one of the groups that continued clinging to many of the old traditions while other Friends churches across the country had changed. These people still revered silence. Naturally there had been a few changes over the years. The men and the women no longer sat on opposite sides of the room. Family and friends stopped referring to each other as “Thee” long ago. And nobody dressed like the dude on the oatmeal box, although simple, “classic” clothing was preferred.

Once upon a time the group eschewed wedding bands with all other jewelry, but Margaret Leeds had been the first to break that tradition in this congregation. Her argument was that marriage was a sacred state of union instituted by God from the beginning to bring humanity closer to Him. For a husband and a wife to make and keep a promise to each other was a reflection of the promise God makes and keeps with His people. The Church was, after all, the bride of Christ. Therefore married people should have an outward “sign of the covenant” to silently proclaim God’s promise.

Margaret Leeds showed up in the congregation shortly after war broke out between the states. She was still only a fourteen-year-old girl. Margaret was from Kentucky, the daughter of a “mixed-blood” Cherokee mother and a slave trader father. Unfortunately for her father’s profession, Margaret had become an abolitionist and even helped some slaves to escape. When her father discovered Margaret’s “treachery,” he threw her out of the house.

Margaret stayed only briefly with some Friends she had come to know while helping with their “line” of the Underground Railroad. She feared if she lingered too long, her father would cause them harm. The Friends told her they had some relatives who lived in Missouri, in a town near that state’s capital, which was surely far away enough to keep everybody safe. While en route to her destination, Margaret received divine inspiration that she should become a member of the Society of Friends. Thus convinced, she entered the congregation and eventually gained such renown locally that Margaret continued to be referred to as “Leeds” even when she got married shortly after the war ended.

Shad couldn’t imagine belonging to any other denomination, or, for that matter, to the “programmed” Friends who had preachers and sang hymns and pretty much looked like any other protestant flock. He had a little experience with other expressions of faith thanks to his participation in Boy Scouts, where Shad was exposed to ecumenical meetings and occasionally a few services at “steeple houses” where other members of his troop worshipped. He once attended a Catholic Mass when Dulsie’s Grandma Wekenheiser passed away a few months before their wedding. Although his acceptance of his family’s faith – of faith in general – hadn’t come easily, he finally embraced the quiet gathering of the unprogrammed Friends.