Frankly Speaking - A Frank Rozzani Detective Novel (#1) Read online

After checking in at his surf shop, Jonesy decided that it was a good time to pay a visit to "CT," the non-denominational mega-church that was just over the inter-coastal waterway in Jacksonville. A quick Internet search told him that the church was founded in 2003 and quickly grew to mega-church status seemingly overnight. Part of the accelerated growth at CT was due to its prominent founding membership which consisted of the starting quarterback and a popular offensive lineman from the local professional football team. This was the same ill-fated quarterback that had owned the now foreclosed-upon house that the Bullocks had purchased.

  Another reason for the growth at CT was apparently due to the popularity of then assistant pastor and now pastor Rick Worthington. His movie-star good looks, along with his charisma, had drawn young people to the church in ever-increasing numbers.

  Jonesy hopped on his vintage Harley Davidson, a 1978 blue Super Glide, fired it up, and was on his way. Jonesy never envisioned himself as a motorcycle type. He had received this bike as a bonus for some complex legal work that he had done for a local motorcycle club related to some tax evasion allegations. The club paid Jonesy in full, but gave him the bike and a club leather jacket as a bonus. Now, after a couple of months of riding the bike, he was hooked. Riding in the open air was like an extension of surfing. Although Florida had repealed its helmet law in recent years, Jonesy chose to wear a vintage helmet, a black skull cap with white stripes and matching goggles.

  He rode over the Intracoastal Waterway Bridge and turned left on one of the main north-south thoroughfares that ran parallel to the waterway. The church campus was on this road between Atlantic and Beach Boulevards.

  After about a mile, Jonesy thought he had taken a wrong turn and had somehow ended up in Las Vegas. On the left there was a very large electronic marquee with the words "Christianity Today" emblazoned across the top. Beneath the name was a gigantic video screen that displayed Pastor Rick Worthington in action. Although there was no sound, Worthington's arms were waving frantically. Jonesy noticed how the awestruck, cherubic faces of the faithful captured on a secondary camera shot indicated that the good pastor was saying something important and inspiring.

  The campus of CT looked like a self-contained village. There were several large buildings that appeared to be a mix of school buildings, athletic facilities, and meeting spaces. There were professional-grade baseball, football and soccer fields. The focal point of the buildings was a large, dome shaped structure, with a large gold cross in the center of the high roof. Jonesy assumed that this was the sanctuary.

  He followed the signs and directed the bike toward the administrative offices. Once inside, he was bombarded with an atmosphere of what he defined as calculated serenity. This meant that every item in the waiting area, from the decor, to the furnishings, to the books and magazines, and the video playing on the flat screen, demanded that whoever entered this space become calm and serene immediately. The video was a montage of photos of the campus, photos of Pastor Rick, and photos of the faithful, set to serene, New Age music.

  If Disney opened a church, this is what it would look like, Jonesy thought.

  At the reception desk, a fresh-faced receptionist whose name plate read Charity Goodwin greeted Jonesy with a high-voltage smile.

  "How can I help you sir?"

  "Hello, my name is Cliff Jones," Jonesy responded using the name that he used professionally. "I'm investigating the disappearance of Maggie Bullock and was wondering who I might speak with to gain some insight into her disappearance."

  "That poor girl. Bless her heart. She was a ray of sunshine here. It's such a shame. Are you with the police?" Charity asked, sounding a bit less friendly. "I thought they had finished their investigation once they decided that she ran away."

  "This is a private investigation ma'am. I am trying to add to the fine work done by the police," Jonesy replied trying his best not to sound sarcastic and to emulate her southern drawl.

  "Well, school is out so the students and teachers are not on campus for the most part," Charity said.

  "What about the retreat she was on this past weekend? Who is here that can talk to me about that?" Jonesy asked.

  "The elite student retreat is run by Pastor Rick himself. He is here but is in a youth session in the auditorium for the next hour. His day is very full after that, but I may be able to make an appointment for you next week or you can talk to one of his assistants later this week if you would like," Charity said in an official sounding tone. The smile had dissolved.

  "I will call and set that up after I check my calendar," Jonesy said, although he had no intention of doing so. Charity had become a barrier that he needed to circumvent.

  "That's fine," she answered even though her tone conveyed that it was not fine for him to violate this sacred domain.

  Jonesy left the administration building and, following the well-marked path, found his way to the auditorium. The outer entry to the auditorium was open and was bathed in the same aggressively serene motif as the administration building. As Jonesy made his way to the auditorium door, a woman wearing a "CT" polo shirt of pastel yellow stood guard.

  "May I help you, sir?" she asked with the same high-voltage smile that Charity started out with.

  "I was told that I could find Pastor Rick in the auditorium."

  "He is in session with a teen group right now. Do you have an appointment with him?"

  "No, I'm an old friend and I wanted to surprise him by stopping by. Charity told me he was here and that he wouldn't mind if I sat in the back during his session so I could chat with him between meetings. Charity said she was sure it would be OK."

  "Well, in that case, I suppose so. Please sit in the back so that you don't interrupt the session," she said hesitantly.

  "I will. I wouldn't want to disturb the great man while he is working his miracles."

  The auditorium was very large for a school setting with about 800 seats arranged in stadium style. The teens filled up about 25% of the seats in the first several rows. Jonesy settled into a seat in the last row hidden in the shadows. He recognized the figure on the bare stage as Pastor Rick Worthington of Internet, roadside large screen, and lobby video fame. He was sitting on the edge of the stage wearing creased jeans, snake skin cowboy boots, and a peach colored CT polo shirt just like the yellow worn by his guardian outside the auditorium. Jonesy was immediately struck by the intensity of the man. He held the group of 200 teens in the palm of his hand as he addressed them.

  "Let's talk about the plan that God has for us," Worthington said in a quiet yet commanding tone that hinted at his Oklahoma roots. "God gave us a plan through his only Son. That plan was written down and has been passed down through the ages. That plan from God has a manual. That manual is The Bible." Pastor Rick then leapt to his feet and began to pace on the stage. "The Bible has many messages for us to live by. The Bible tells us that sex outside of marriage is a sin, that homosexuality is a sin, that drugs and alcohol are sins, and that devotion to God, through his church, is the only path to salvation."

  Jonesy listened to this and thought that he might need to thumb through a Bible to see if there were some pages that he might have missed that would back up Worthington's claims.

  "I am here to help you down the path," Pastor Rick continued. "Let this church be the conduit through which you pass to salvation. Leave all of those temptations on the side of the path and join us."

  As Jonesy continued to listen to the fiery leader of CT, it dawned on him that this was a recruiting session. Pastor Rick was trying to increase his flock by convincing these young people that CT was the only route to Heaven. In Jonesy's mind, this proved that nothing in religion had really changed in the last 1,000+ years. The technology and the setting were different, but the message and the tactics had not changed; scare your potential customers into submission.

  After about 45 minutes, Pastor Rick's session appeared to be winding down. He actually had music to send him off and he reeme
rged for a bow during the thundering standing ovation as if he had just sung a complex aria at La Scala opera house in Italy. Once the applause died down, Pastor Rick went backstage and a small army of pastel CT shirts emerged and escorted the teens from the auditorium. At the same time, Jonesy exited via a side door so he could move toward the stage door exit where he assumed Pastor Rick would eventually come out.

  Jonesy didn't have to wait long. Without any fanfare or an entourage encircling him, Pastor Rick Worthington exited through the stage door sipping from a bottle of Fuji water. His blank face lit up with a million gigawatt smile when he saw Jonesy.

  "Hello there. How may I help you," asked Pastor Rick in a voice so sweet and folksy that Jonesy believed he had just developed three cavities on the spot just from listening to it.

  "I'd like to speak with you for a couple of minutes if you have time, Pastor Rick."

  "If you're thinking of joining our flock one of my assistants can help you out."

  "No, not today. I'm here to talk to you about the disappearance of Maggie Bullock."

  At these words, Jonesy observed an almost undetectable dimming of the wattage of Worthington's smile.

  "Are you with the police? We have already spent considerable time with the authorities."

  "This is a private investigation sir. We are following up on other potential leads."

  "On whose authority, if I may ask?"

  The smile faltered just a bit more.

  "Travis Bullock has asked us to look into it."

  Instead of becoming more uncomfortable, Pastor Rick visibly relaxed and adapted a more conciliatory tone.

  "I told Travis to trust the police on this. They deal with hundreds of cases like this. They concluded that Maggie is a runaway and will likely return on her own."

  "Isn't it odd that such a well-adjusted, bright girl like Maggie would choose to run away, while on your watch, I might add."

  "The Lord only knows what runs through the wiring of a teenage brain. We are here to guide and recommend the correct path. We cannot force them to follow it. As for her disappearing on my watch, while I am deeply concerned that it occurred during the elite student retreat, in a group of 150 students, we can hardly monitor them all around the clock. They are not in prison when they attend a retreat. They are able to leave if the need arises. Frankly, I don't appreciate your insinuation. We have been through all of this with the police."

  "I'm just trying to establish how Maggie Bullock might have disappeared if, as her parents believe, she didn't run away."

  "Well Mr....I didn't catch your name."

  "Jones."

  ”Jones," the pastor continued. "Of course. I understand the Bullock's feelings. They want to think the best of their daughter. The teenage mind, however, can exhibit shifts in behavior that are staggering. I myself wrestled with demons in my youth."

  "I understand your point of view, sir. I'm just doing the job I was asked to do. I'm sorry for taking up your time. If you don't mind, I just have one more question for you and then I'll leave you to your busy day.”

  "Certainly, anything to help."

  "This elite student retreat, is it specifically geared to the students with the highest grades?"

  "Grades are certainly a factor, but other factors are just as important. Citizenship and how closely students follow the path weigh in a great deal for the committee selection process."

  "Who makes up the committee that selects the students for the retreat?"

  "The Assistant Pastor, the School Principal, and the Ministries Director all sit on the committee."

  "Do you have a role in the selection?"

  "I chair the committee, Mr. Jones. I have the ultimate say when the students are being chosen. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

  "Thank you sir. That's it for now," Jonesy said as he turned to leave.

  "Please go through proper channels if you wish to speak to me again Mr. Jones. I am happy to help."

  "I will do my best sir."

  Jonesy thought about the encounter with the pastor as he headed back to his bike. This man preached to thousands and bathed them in the baptismal waters of the mega church. In spite of this, Jonesy felt the strong urge to take a shower.

  CHAPTER FIVE