The Day They Buried Truth

By Janie Baetsle

Since the closure of The Meeting Place several years before, it was hoped that the attempts to subvert the government would end. Many had been arrested, tried, and convicted. But late in November 2019, a strange ceremony took place deep within a forest clearing, releasing an atmospheric realm of evil far greater than ever before. Its target was truth itself. Two young men, David and Daniel, had been instrumental in discovering the political scandal of the past but now sense an even greater danger. Working for the FBI, they find themselves in dangerous circumstances as they work together with Pastor Timothy to uphold truth. This time, two young women and a beautiful gray cat, named Charlie, join them on the journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781644681992

Book preview

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The Day

They Buried

TRUTH

Janie Baetsle

Sequel To Secret Places

ISBN 978-1-64468-198-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64468-725-3 (Hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-64468-199-2 (Digital)

Copyright © 2020 Janie Baetsle

All rights reserved

First Edition

This book is written as a sequel to Secret Places. The characters, their names, as well as the story line are all fictitious but are based upon the historical events following the 2016 election in the United States of America. Spiritual truths come into play as David, Daniel and Pastor Timothy unite against the evil of deception which has risen to epidemic proportions.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

About the Author

Prologue

Watch out dear nation, lest you sleep,

And do not faithful vigil keep

O’er that which makes you strong and free

And steeps you in sweet liberty.

Stand firm for what you know is right

For day is fast encroached by night,

Darkness moves to shut out light

Which once was burning glorious bright.

Let patriotic voices sing

Let troubled times now swiftly bring

The church to bend down on its knees,

Cry out to God to intercede.

Before the bells toll one last time

And morning rises up to find

Freedom’s now been left behind.

By Janie Baetsle

Chapter 1

It was a dismal day late in November 2019. Not even the smallest rays of the noonday sun could penetrate the heavy darkness. A light mist was falling, adding a chilly dampness, as a small group of twelve gathered around an open grave. Sincerity and unity of purpose were self-evident. The grave had been dug at a remote site far from any tomb-stoned cemetery. It was a place heavily forested with the exception of this one small clearing hidden within its midst. One of the twelve had just happened to discover it.

A great horned owl was silently watching. Like a professional sleuth, he carefully studied the scene below, his head swiveling from side to side as owls are known to do. Occasionally, there were the annoying caws of glistening black crows as they noisily moved from tree to tree, creating more than just a little edginess within the group of twelve.

The grave itself was shallow but sufficient for burying the roughly hewed wooden casket. Although of normal size, it was crudely constructed and would have been an affront to most—a disgrace of sorts, in actuality—but it served the intended purpose. Strangely, it was devoid of any human contents. Instead, it held symbols of the group’s extreme hatred: one large well-worn black leather Bible with gold-leafed pages; one American flag folded by happenstance; one copy each of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights; a set of historical books accurately depicting the founding of America; pictures of well-known Patriots giving credence to Almighty God, knee bound as they sought his wisdom in establishing their brand new nation; a picture of the current West Wing president; monetary currency carefully imprinted with the words that trust had been placed in God; and last of all, a replica of the scales of justice perfectly balanced as they hung from the blindfolded lady’s hand.

The Leader carefully checked over the contents of the casket and then turned to the others in the group for their approval. Finding it unanimous, he closed the lid and fastened the metal latch. Using sturdy ropes, he and three others lowered the casket into the grave. Sounds of earth hitting against the wooden structure ricocheted throughout the forest clearing. Once finished, the group exchanged smiles of satisfaction, cleared the earth from their shovels, and placed them back into an off-white-colored van waiting nearby. Affording themselves one last look at their finished work, they boarded the vehicle and left. It was directly following their departure that suddenly a release of the most unimaginable evil swept silently into the atmosphere in greater measure than ever before.

The crows flew down to investigate the freshly moved earth, in hopes that they might find a succulent morsel or two caught up within. They cawed with delight when their instincts were proven to be exactly right; but just then the sound of heinous laughter sent them rushing back into flight.

*****

The Cozy Corner Restaurant was fully decorated for the Christmas season as it always was by late November, just after Thanksgiving. It was within four blocks of the nation’s Capitol. Colored lights—green, red, blue, and yellow—were carefully strung across the high ceiling, their bulbs flashing on and off in a repetitive sequence. Christmas music could be heard playing in the background, not loud, but with sufficient volume to easily identify the well-known holiday tunes. A tastefully decorated artificial tree stood against the south wall with a brilliant silver star placed at its very top. With political correctness being