Into the Tempest

The house was only about fifteen minutes away. As they pulled into the driveway and got out, Shawn started looking at the various details of the home.

It was a ranch home, modest in size, and probably about twenty to thirty years old. It was kept up fairly well, and there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary in Shawn’s mind. The yard and bushes were well trimmed, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of a dog or other pet.

As they walked up the steps to the door, Shawn noticed a sign posted right next to the doorbell:

This house contains items of a religious nature. All minors are prohibited from entering.

“Looks like they at least adhere to the law,” Jeremy exclaimed, gesturing toward the sign.

“Well,” Shawn replied. “Let’s hope they are equally cooperative with us.” He rang the doorbell.

Within a few moments the door opened to an elderly woman, in her mid-sixties, smiling at them.

“May I help you gentlemen?” she asked.

Shawn spoke first and held up his badge. “Mrs. Knox, I’m Detective O’Connor and this is Detective Robinson. We would like to ask you a few questions regarding Angela and Stephen Knox, and their son Samuel. May we come in?”

The woman paused for a second, seemingly taken aback.

“Yes . . . yes of course,” she said, as she gestured for them to come in.

Shawn noticed that the entryway opened up into the living room, which was on the right. Straight ahead was the kitchen and to the left was a hallway, which Shawn guessed led to several bedrooms.

Mrs. Knox closed the door and then walked over toward the hallway. She stuck her heard around the corner before yelling. “Tom! Some detectives are here! They’d like to ask us some questions!”

She turned back toward Shawn and Jeremy. “Would you gentlemen like anything to drink? Perhaps some tea or coffee?” she asked.

“No thanks,” said Shawn.

“I’d like some coffee,” Jeremy replied. He shrugged his shoulders as Shawn gave him an odd look.

“Sure thing,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Make yourselves at home.”

Shawn meandered over into the living room, looking for anything suspicious. The room had a warm, cozy feel to it, although it was too old-fashioned for his liking. As he walked past the couch, he noticed a cross hanging from above one of the walls. The sight of it made him cringe.

He then came across a few pictures on the coffee table and lamp stands. Many of them contained what he could only guess was the young boy, Samuel. One was a picture that appeared to be of Sam, his father, and his grandfather.

“Three generations of brainwashed fanatics,” Shawn muttered, picking up the photo. “Too bad.” He put the photo back down onto the table.

As he continued to walk around the room, he came across what looked like a podium holding a family photo album. At second glance Shawn noticed that it wasn’t a photo album but rather a large book. The lettering was old, the binding was worn. He brought his hand up to feel the pages.

“That Bible is over two hundred years old,” said a voice behind him.

Shawn turned around and saw a man who was clearly in his late sixties. His hair was mostly gray, but still had a bit of dark color in it. He was shorter than Shawn, though he appeared to be in very good shape for his age.

The man continued. “It’s been in the family as far back as I can remember, passed down from generation to generation.”

Shawn glanced at the book and then back at the man. All he could say was, “Interesting.”

The man held out his hand. “Tom Knox.”

Shawn took his hand. Tom had a strong, secure grip, and his skin felt rugged. Shawn surmised that he was someone who enjoyed the outdoors, perhaps hunting or fishing.

“Detective O’Connor,” Shawn replied.

Jeremy walked up next to him, holding a cup of coffee. He extended his hand as well to the older man. “I’m Detective Robinson,” he said.

Jeremy took a sip of coffee before continuing. “If it’s not too much trouble, we would like to ask you and your wife some questions.”

“Sure,” Tom replied. “What would you like to know?

“Have you seen your son, daughter-in-law, or grandson at all today?” Shawn asked, his smart tablet and stylus ready.

“No, I can’t say that I have,” Tom answered.

“Have they contacted you at all recently?”

“Yes, I spoke to my son earlier today. Why do you ask?”

Shawn glanced at Jeremy before turning back to Tom. “Are you aware, Mr. Knox, that your son and daughter-in-law unlawfully removed your grandson from school today after he had been caught with a Bible in his locker?”

Tom appeared to not be surprised at all. “Yes, I’m aware. And I wish them well wherever they are going.”

Jeremy chuckled slightly. Shawn snapped him an angry look.

“Do you know where they are?” Shawn asked.

“Yes, I do.”

There was a long pause. After a few moments it was clear to Shawn that Tom did not plan on elaborating. It seemed that he would have to pry out the information piece by piece.

Shawn hid his frustration by cracking a forced smile. “I take it, Mr. Knox, that you have no intention of telling me where they are, do you?”

Tom’s face betrayed a look, not of defiance, but of confidence. “I would tell you, Detective,” he said, “if your intentions were good. But I know that they’re not, and so I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Mr. Knox, there is no need to be uncooperative,” Shawn replied. “We are here to do our jobs. A boy is missing who shouldn’t be, and we are just trying to find him. Now despite what you may think, I’m not the bad guy. The right thing for you to do would be to tell us where they are.”

Tom shook his head. “Detective, you and I both know that what you are doing is wrong. Taking children away from their parents because they shared the gospel with them is nothing short of evil.”

Jeremy stepped forward, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “Mr. Knox,” he said, “I think you are looking at this the wrong way. Detective O’Connor and I work hard to protect children. We protect them from physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, and mental abuse. This might be difficult for you to understand, but the laws are in place to protect children from having certain fanatical beliefs forced upon them. It’s exactly this type of child abuse that has led to so many problems with various sects of Islam.”

“But,” replied Tom, pointing a finger at them, “you fail to recognize that we are not forcing our children to believe anything. I don’t want my children to accept something simply because I tell them to. I want them to accept it because they actually believe it in their hearts to be true. It’s not evil, nor abusive, to teach someone the truth.”

Shawn was becoming deeply irritated, and he felt his face turning red. He gestured for Jeremy to step back. “Minors,” he said, “are incapable of making such decisions. It is no different from when we punish someone for having sex with a minor, because a minor cannot consent. The same standard applies with regard to a minor’s freedom of thought. That’s why Detective Robinson and I do what we do, not because we’re evil, but because we’re looking out for the child’s safety.”

He paused for a second to let those words sink in before continuing. “Now, Mr. Knox, if you truly cared for your grandson, you would help us.” Tom crossed his arms. “Gentlemen, as a Christian man I’m not going to lie to you. But I also cannot, in good conscience, help you. The law you claim to defend is itself wicked. It destroys families.” He pointed at Shawn. “You, Detective, destroy families.”