Case of the Executed Evangelist Ch. 01

The back of the Police Headquarters was to the east of the tent. I could see the fenced-off area on the jail side, where inmates were taken to get some exercise, and the fenced-off parking lot was to the right side (left if one faced the front entrance of HQ) and around back. I saw the windows of the Chief's office and the conference rooms, then other offices and rooms as my eyes went left towards the jail side.

"Hi Don!" I heard a lovely woman's voice call out. Lovely, indeed! it was University Police Lieutenant Brittany Maxwell. She looked great in a navy blue jacket, white blouse and navy skirt, with sheer navy blue stockings and high heel pumps. Her eyes sparkled in the warm sunshine.

"Hi Britt. You look wonderful... as always!" I said as we hugged and kissed cheeks on both sides like French people do. "But isn't it warm for dark blue?"

I was wearing a white, short-sleeved, collared, button-down shirt with my police badge over the left pocket, Supervisor bars on the shoulder epaulets, and the small rectangles denoting the Medal of Valor and Purple Order over the right pocket, along with police blue slacks with black "piping" down the side, hoping the white would keep me cooler.

Normally only Lieutenants and above wore white shirts; all else wore light blue or the well-known traditional dark blue. But I was a Supervisor in a Lieutenant position, and no one was attempting to tell me I couldn't do it.

"It's still cold to me." Britt replied. "And I just got back from those Florida beaches!"

"I'm already warm. I'll be longing for a vacation to the Arctic Ocean soon. So how was your vacation?" I asked. After school let out, Britt had taken over a week of vacation and traveled to Florida. By sheer coincidence (not), Cindy Ross had also taken vacation at that time, and by sheer coincidence (not), had gone to the same destination. At any rate, I had not seen Britt in some days.

"Great!" Britt said. "By the way, congratulations on the promotion, but when are you going to get that Lieutenant bar?"

"Soon... probably at the same time you get your Captain bars." I said. "Especially if I have anything to do with it."

"Yeah, right." Britt said, somewhat bitterly. "If you can pull that one off, you are truly the Miracle Man around here."

"Have faith, my friend." I replied, smiling. "You should have more Faith. Let the Revvvrend Ollldeeeds bring you the faith you neeeed!" Britt laughed at my sarcasm. She had the same disdain for this spectacle that I did.

"Sir!" I heard a voice say from behind me. A uniformed officer came up to me. It was Patrolman Hicks. "Sir, Rev. Oldeeds has requested that you come to his RV."

"I'll be right there." I said. "Well, Britt, duty calls. I'll talk with you later."

I followed Patrolman Hicks to one of the RVs behind the tent. It was the set up as an office, not as living quarters: Oldeeds had a separate RV for himself and his wife to relax inside of. This RV was the height of business luxury on the inside, with all the amenities money could buy and stuff into an RV, all for the Reverend Oldeeds comfort in conducting his business activities.

A man was using electronic gadgetry that I immediately recognized as being listening-device-detection equipment. The little box began beeping wildly when it came near my police radio on my belt.

"Would you mind turning your radio off for just a few minutes?" Rev. Oldeeds requested. I spoke into the microphone that I was going "off radio" for a few minutes, and turned the radio off.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Rev. Oldeeds said. "I'm sure you can understand that I have to be cautious. The Press is unrelenting and unscrupulous in what they will do to get some 'dirt' on a man in my position."

"I understand fully." I said. "How can I help you?"

"Please?" Oldeeds said, looking startled.

"Ah, I thought when you requested for me to come here, you had something to say." I said.

"Oh.... well yes, I certainly do want to discuss a few things with you." he said, a bit nonplussed at the perhaps inappropriate speed with which I had him come right to the point.

"First, I understand you've been doing very well with the police here. However, I have a very extensive operation throughout the nation, and even around the world. Security is a large, complex task...and I'm sure you have what it takes to help run it. I'd like for you to consider joining my team."

He has got to be kidding, I thought to myself, not letting myself show any surprise at his offer. I don't think Jonas Oldeeds realized that I knew quite a bit about him, from the things he did to my sister and mother to some of the sleazy operations he was alleged to be running. There was no way in Hell that I was going to go to work for this man.

"Well, sir, I appreciate you thinking of me." I replied. "But I have to tell you that I am very happy where I am, in this Town and with the Police Force here."

Oldeeds smile was set and firm. "I can certainly understand that. But I'll be blunt with you, Don: you're too big for this town. You need to get into the big game-- ah yes..." Oldeeds had seen my reaction, but misunderstood why.

He could not have known, so I thought, that I had recently heard those very words before... while verbally facing off in a professor's office with one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, a man that the Rev. Jonas Oldeeds was no match for.

"Yes... you have tremendous capabilities, untapped strengths." Oldeeds continued, thinking he might have caught my interest, using his well-worn spiel of personal development and self-confidence. "A man like you could go such a long, long way in an organization like mine."

I just smiled. "I do appreciate your kind words, Reverend. But really, I'm happy where I am for now."

Oldeeds was not a man that took being turned down very well. He played what he thought would be his trump card.

"Well, while you think about that, at least let me make you another offer: my organization is extensive, as I said. I have... resources... that I can use to help you find that rogue nephew of yours."

Okay, this time he had my attention.

"Of course, there is something I would want in return."

"What would that be, Reverend?"

"Your sister."

I guess my look of skepticism, perhaps of anger gave me away, as Oldeeds hastily continued. "I simply would want you to back off pursuing your sister, let her stay with me within my organization. I'd ask you to forgive her for her transgressions, which I'm sure were made in error and under duress.... and I'd keep her out of your way, completely out of your county, even your State.

"In return, I'll deliver that punk kid to you any way you like... on a silver platter, like the head of John the Baptist.... or even in very small boxes, like the Chinese would send their enemies home inside of." Jonas Oldeeds was known to be a connoisseur of Eastern cultures and traditions.

"I'll have to think about that one, Reverend." I said. "My sister is wanted for some very heinous crimes. I feel she is responsible for the death of your friend, my father." Oldeeds did not react at all to that; I wondered just how much he knew about my family situation. "And who's to say I won't find Ned myself?"

"Well, just think about it." Oldeeds said. "Letting your sister go in exchange for getting the bastard kid that put a bullet in your side. Sounds like a good trade to me, but it's your call."

This was not the discussion one would expect a man of the Lord to be having, and I'd heard as much as I needed to. "I'll consider it. In the meantime, Reverend, would you permit me to introduce a couple of people to you?"

"Why.... sure." Oldeeds said, again a bit startled at the way I had taken control of the conversation and ended it. I got up and opened the door to the RV and called for the two men outside to come in.

"Reverend, this is Detective Steven Ikea of our Vice squad. He's a man of the Lord and a fan of yours. And this..." I said, indicating an older man, tall with a beak nose and prim mouth, balding on top of his head but full-haired on the sides, "is Pastor Raymond Westboro. Pastor Westboro is a member of the Town & County Council, very influential in our politics here. And if you'll excuse me a moment, I need to check on the security arrangements with Captain Malone."

I quickly exited before Rev. Oldeeds could protest, already hearing the gushing praises of Steven Ikea. I had to pat myself on the back just a little bit: I had Ikea out of the way, had him fawning all over Oldeeds, and gotten myself out of Oldeeds's lair. And Oldeeds would have to listen to Ikea and not be able to talk politics with Pastor Westboro... which of course was one reason I had surmised Oldeeds had even come to this town. I wondered what the rest of the equation was...

Oops..... the only cloud to the silver lining was that Bettina Wurtzburg ambushed me with a live-to-camera interview as soon as I stepped out of the RV. Oh well, the devil or the deep blue sea, I thought to myself. Might as well throw Bettina a bone... speaking of that, I thought as I answered her first question, I'd sure like to give her my bone...

Part 5 - The Crime

"UHHH!!!" Jonas Oldeeds groaned as he came deep inside his wife after a hard, intense fuck. His semen flooded her womb as jolt after jolt coated her cervix.

As usual, the pleasure of his orgasm calmed any stress he had, and he had built up quite a bit of stress having to deal with those two Bible-thumpers that Don had saddled him with. The son of a bitch, Oldeeds thought, remembering Phyllis with sinister satisfaction. But that Don was indeed as crafty as Oldeeds had heard and been warned about.

"Mmmm, that was good, baby." Vicki Oldeeds said, glorying in her own deeply satisfying orgasm while taking her husband's hard thrusts into her womanhood. "You haven't fucked me that good in a loonnnng time."

"Yeah, it was good, baby." Oldeeds said, deeply kissing his wife before climbing off of her, his penis slipping out of her wet, cum-filled vagina. He wiped himself off with a wet towel, smoothed his hair into place, and began quickly dressing.

They were in the "living quarters" RV, and his first appearance would be in a few minutes under the big tent. The RV was sumptuous in its luxury, all the amenities possible were stuffed into the RV, all for the personal comfort of Reverend Oldeeds and his wife.

Just as a bullfighter would have sex with a lover just before facing the bull in the arena, Jonas Oldeeds always liked to fuck a woman just before going out and preaching to a crowd. The wealthy evangelist smirked as he thought of how every single time someone was watching him on TV or on his tapes or seeing him preaching to a crowd, that he had come inside a warm pussy just moment before.

"You're going to do great today, baby." Vicki said as she dressed, thinking of all the times she had accompanied her husband onto the stage, sitting to the side and watching, knowing that all those thousands of people in attendance didn't realize that her husband's semen was leaking out of her freshly fucked vagina and soaking her panties.

"Yes, it's going to be quite a weekend." Jonas said. "The Protestant Student Alliance that sponsored our visit to the University tonight and tomorrow will be the perfect stooges for our attack on that bitch Dr. Fredricson and her wicked, sinful sexual research. I intend to put one hell of a dent in her operations." Oldeeds smiled with pleasure at the thought of his plan of attack.

"And so far, my other business here is going well." he continued. "We can really expand our profits if we can get a foot in the door and a toe in the water with Captain Malone." He paused, then said, almost wistfully, "I just can't believe that Don didn't jump at my offer to give him Ned's head on a platter."

"I don't think he shares your feelings of caring towards his sister." Vicki replied. "Don't worry about him. I don't think he's the hot shit that people are making him out to be."

"Oh really? Woman's intuition?" Jonas asked. His wife smirked at him, and he continued "I guess we'll see. Okay, babe, are you ready to go out?"

-----------------------

After looking around the tent and speaking briefly with Captain Malone, I made my way to the south end of the tent, which would be at the end away from the podium. Lt. Britt Maxwell joined me there, standing just in front of a temporary metal box shed that housed some of the wiring for the speakers and lights.

Despite the daytime brightness, there were lights inside the tent to illuminate the Reverend Oldeeds as he was filmed by his video company's cameras. In addition, I don't think I'd ever seen as many mobile phones and tablets at the ready to photograph and perhaps videotape this spectacular visit from this most famous of religious men.

The parking lot was full of cars, there were several hundred people crowded into the tent, along the aisles and around the edges, most of them middle-age to elderly and middle-class. The whole area was being secured and law enforcement and event security placing themselves in their appropriate positions.

"Well, here goes nothing." I said to Britt as I made out the procession approaching the tent from the other side, knowing what to look for. Precisely at noon, Mrs. Oldeeds appeared on the stage, then a roar sounded as the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds appeared, flashing his toothy, reassuring smile. He waved at the crowd as his wife and other persons took seats on the folding chairs at the right of the stage, to Oldeeds's left as he was standing.

I watched as his security detail spread out, and then saw Steven Ikea standing just off the back of the stage, having been invited by Jonas Oldeeds to be present and nearby. Entirely too kind of the Reverend, I thought to myself, but maybe he and Ikea did hit it off after I introduced them and left quickly.

"I'm going over there to the command post." Britt said, wanting to get a bit closer and get a better look. The command post was to the right of the tent, near the closest entry/exit point to the Fairgrounds.

I felt the metal of the shed against my back as I rested against it, not really listening as Myrtle L. James introduced Jonas Oldeeds to the crowd, followed by a loud roar as the tele-evangelist came onto the stage to begin spiritually rallying his flock.

As Oldeeds was speaking, I felt an electrical energy around me, like a charged aura. I stood up and looked around briefly, wondering what the cause was. Then I suddenly felt as if my right shoulder was being jerked down by an unseen hand.

*SMACK!*

Just as my head moved sideways with my shoulder, I both felt and heard a loud impact on the metal shed just inches from my left ear. I let my body continue to fall as time seemed to slow down.

Looking onto the stage, it seemed as if the world was in slow motion. I saw an explosion of red right in the middle of the chest of Jonas Oldeeds's white shirt. He seemed to stumble forward, grabbing the podium to steady himself. As he stood back up, he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood smeared all over them.

I felt myself rising up and begin running towards the podium, everything still in slow motion and an eerie silence coming over me. I saw Oldeeds look to his left at his wife, his face a mask of pure shock and horror. Her face was beginning to show the horror of what she was witnessing as well. And then....

... the left side of Jonas Oldeeds's head exploded in a fountain of red and gray. Steven Ikea's face was a mask of sheer horror as he leaped forward to catch Oldeeds just as he fell, easing the stricken minister to the stage floor.

I remember running up to the stage, yelling "police officer!" as I pushed people out of the way. Just as I and several other police arrived at the stage, two EMTs in hospital scrubs appeared with unbelievable speed, carrying a stretcher onto the stage. They quickly put Oldeeds onto it and whisked him out of the tent and into the ambulance that had just driven up. Mrs. Oldeeds ran desperately to the ambulance as it was pulling out, and one EMT opened the passenger cab up front to allow her in.

Police allowed the ambulance to leave but no other vehicle or person. Captain Malone was screaming orders to secure the entire place, that no one and no vehicle was to be allowed to leave. The entire fairgrounds were locked down instantly.

Steven Ikea was nearly immobile, still on the stage. He was sobbing, tears streaming down his face as he looked at his shirt and hands heavily stained with Oldeeds's blood. It was just then I heard more about blood as I suddenly noticed a sting on my temple.

"You're bleeding, Don!" I heard a voice say. It was Lt. Britt Maxwell. She and Captain Malone rushed up to me. I had been grazed by the bullet that had smashed into the metal wall of the shed. Police immediately scrambled to where I had been standing to look for evidence while a paramedic examined my wound, which proved to be extremely superficial, barely breaking the skin.

But that was nothing. The Reverend Jonas Oldeeds had absorbed the full impact of two shots, the second one blowing his brains out of his head. He was pronounced dead-on-arrival in the Emergency Room at University Hospital.

To be continued...