Case of the Executed Evangelist Ch. 03

The blonde's mouth glided up and down young Mike's throbbing shaft as he compared her techniques to Dr. Laura Fredricson's from the day before, finding both women to be excellent, accomplished cocksuckers. But Vicki Oldeeds's pussy was totally shaved and glowingly bare. She was one hot bitch, Mike thought.

"Mmmmm, so God damned good!" Vicki mewled as she continued to suck deeply on Mike's big cock. She could tell his nut was rising and that soon her mouth would be full of---

*KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!*

"Who is it? I told you I did not want to be disturbed!" Vicki yelled.

"I'm sorry, madam," said the butler of the house, an old gentleman with an aristocratic air about him, a servant of the Oldeeds for some years, "but the Police have arrived and wish to speak with you."

Damn! Vicki thought to herself. "Okay, tell them I'll be right there in a few minutes!" She then very quietly told young Mike to get dressed and accompany her downstairs. She quickly dressed in her black dress, veil and pumps, applied fresh makeup, and with Mike in tow, dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a large Bible and notebook, she went downstairs.

"Please excuse the delay." she said to the officers waiting in the sitting room of the rented mansion.

"We understand." said Detective Cindy Ross. "And we're very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Vicki replied. "This is my secretary, Mike. He's been a true gift from God these last couple of days. A wonderful young man of the Lord."

I'll bet, both Cindy Ross and Teresa Croyle thought at the same time, both noticing the considerable size of young Mike's package underneath the crotch of his pants as they introduced themselves and took seats at Mrs. Oldeeds's invitation.

"I am sorry that we must speak to you about your husband's murder so soon after it occurred." Detective Teresa Croyle said, anything but sorry. She knew a whore and a lying con artist when she saw one, and Vicki Oldeeds was the very height of both, the piety of her and her husband's presentation of religion notwithstanding.

Continuing, Teresa asked "Are you aware of any threats to your husband in these last few days or weeks?"

"No, none at all." Vicki Oldeeds replied. "My husband was a very powerful man, so of course he had enemies, but I'm not aware of any specific threats."

"Did he have any arguments with anyone, any altercations, anything at all that would be considered out of the ordinary?"

"No, nothing at all that I saw or heard about."

"Was there any sudden changes in his actions, in his routines, in your lives together?" Teresa asked.

"No. Our lives are-- were-- very scripted, very scheduled, often down to the minute. The appointments with people were different, but the schedule and our daily routines were virtually always the same. And there had been nothing unusual at all, for weeks... months."

As Teresa asked questions, Cindy Ross was attempting to size up Mrs. Oldeeds. The widow's makeup was fresh and likely would've been freshened upon the arrival of the Police for an interview, she noted. But her eyes don't look to be red from crying. She's either not grieving yet... or she's not going to. The woman's eyes were sharp, skeptical and inquiring... very common when being interviewed by police... but is that a look of craftiness, of cunning? Is she thinking that all this is some sort of game?

"Can you tell us what your schedule was in coming to this Town for this trip? Was there anything unusual about this trip, different from others?" Teresa asked, trying a new line to reach the same desired result of her previous questions.

"Mike, do you have the schedule book?" Vicki called out to the handsome young man behind her.

"Yes ma'am, it's right here." he replied, handing her the appointment book.

"This is my schedule, not my husband's, but we're so often together that you can hardly tell them apart." Vicki Oldeeds said, handing Teresa the book.

At that moment, the butler brought in a young man in a suit and tie. "Ma'am, this gentleman is from the FBI, and would like to join this interview."

"Certainly." said Vicki Oldeeds. The young man introduced himself and sat down next to Teresa. What Vicki Oldeeds did not know was that his entrance after the policewomen's was planned in advance with them.

At Teresa's invitation, the Special Agent began asking some questions. "Did your husband have any business deals in the works recently?"

"Not that I'm aware of." replied Mrs. Oldeeds. Cindy was sure of it now; Vicki's eyes were almost jet, they were defensive, careful and cunning.... and contemptuous of the FBI agent.

"Nothing that might have caused someone to get angry, a deal that might have washed out leaving someone out to get revenge?"

"No, nothing of that sort at all. Jonas's business dealings and those of his Ministries were all smooth and orderly."

Knowing it was the right time, Cindy Ross came straight out with her question.

"I'm afraid we have to ask questions of this nature, Mrs. Oldeeds. How was your relationship with your husband? Any problems, any at all?"

"Why no, we were very much in love and things between us were the best they've ever been."

"No affairs by either of you, no jealous past lovers?" Cindy asked.

"I understand your need to ask that question." Mrs. Oldeeds said, a bit derisively. "But we were committed to each other, open and honest with each other about everything, both personal and business-wise."

"And that brings me to the next question I must ask." Cindy continued, showing no emotion nor surprise despite many interesting observations. "Do you inherit your husband's fortune upon his death?"

"Yes... and no." Mrs. Oldeeds replied. "I inherit our joint personal holdings, of course, but only part of the controlling interest of the company itself. Most of the Ministries' assets were not personally owned by Jonas, but by himself and his group of trustees as a separate entity. I believe your fellow Detective's father was one of Jonas's first trustees, and Jonas liked and always kept that arrangement.

The answer had been a bit too well prepared, too smoothly delivered, Cindy thought to herself. Mrs. Oldeeds was hiding something. And she had not explicitly denied that the Oldeeds were having extramarital sexual relations... of course everyone in Cindy's Police Department from Captain Malone to Don and Melina to half the Town Council and University Trustees had open marriages, and that was none of her business... but what did it mean for these 'Disciples of the Lord' to be so adulterous?

There were several more questions, but it was becoming obvious that Mrs. Oldeeds was shutting down, refusing to say much further about Oldeeds's businesses with the FBI agent present.

Part 10 - Badges

"Don, Brittany, get in here." Chief Griswold ordered, ushering us into his small conference room. It was 4:30pm. Inside the room were two men in expensive suits.

"Folks, this is the Director of the SBI, Jack Lewis, and the Deputy Director of the same, Tom Conlan." Griswold said. "Have a seat, please."

"First, I want to apologize for Agent Ferrell's actions yesterday." Director Lewis said. "Totally unprofessional, and I want to do what I can to prevent it from happening again... while at the same time keeping Ferrell working on cases. He's a good agent, even if he rubs you people in this county the wrong way."

I don't know if Britt's look or mine was the more skeptical, but the Director made haste to continue. "We've been talking with Chief Griswold today, and he has agreed to our potential solution. Did you know that we have an SBI Reserve?" Britt nodded affirmatively, but I had not heard of it.

The Deputy Director took up the discussion. "It's usually for early retirees from the SBI to work with us temporarily, and sometimes for contractors in our I.T. departments, stuff like that. But both of you pass all the requirements to be part of the SBI Reserve. You can only be active duty SBI for 30 days in a calendar year, then have to apply for 30 more days."

"You could be brought up temporarily by the Director, myself, or the Governor." the Deputy Director continued. "But you can also activate and deactivate yourselves by signing in to our website and 'clocking in', so to speak. There is the caveat that while you're active with the SBI, then by law you won't be active with your local law enforcement agencies, and the same law prevents you from being called up for a case within your own local jurisdictions."

"You'll both be Special Agents of the SBI Reserve." the Director said. "Lt. Maxwell, we'll have to run more paperwork through to get your rank up to where your current Campus Police rank and status is, but if you accept, we'll start that paperwork immediately."

"This is a great opportunity for you both." Chief Griswold said, making his desire for us to accept very plain.

"Where do I sign?" I said, hoping it didn't sound too sarcastic.

The Director swore us in, we signed a couple of pieces of paper, and the deputy director handed us our new SBI badges. Was it sheer coincidence that my badge number was exactly the same as my Town & County Police badge number, "1640"?

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4:30pm. After watching Don and Lt. Maxwell get called into the chief's conference room, Cindy concentrated on getting her reports of interviews into the computer. The computer keyboards were clicking frantically throughout the entire Headquarters, trying to meet deadlines to get the material in so that Myron Milton could begin massaging the data and cross-referencing things. How that computer whiz had not been kidnapped by the FBI and CIA and made to work for them, Cindy did not know... and did not care to contemplate further...

After cross-checking with Teresa that their notes of their various interviews matched, Cindy Ross submitted her information. Then she began thinking about the things she had not put in the formal notes, but that she wanted to discuss with Don. It really was too bad that he could not have been at that interview, she thought. He would've nailed Vicki Oldeeds's sweet ass to the wall on a whole range of things...

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"I'll take you two to dinner." Chief Griswold said as our talks with the SBI Directors ended. It was 6:00pm.

"How about you let me take all of you to dinner." Jack Muscone said as he walked up. "My expense account, your tax dollars doing you a little bit of good?"

"You don't have to ask twice." I said. "Chief, okay with you?"

"By all means, but I get to pick where we eat." the Chief replied, smiling.

I knew where that meant: the Cop Bar, which actually had great food. At dinner, the Chief told us how he had worked hard to arrange our SBI status. "This way you can just log in, deputize yourselves, and you can tell asswipes like Ferrell to beat his face. It also gives you a bit stronger access to University campus jurisdiction, Don, if ever there's a problem."


"Sounds like a good deal." Muscone said. "Wouldn't mind getting you and Perlman into the FBI that way. I wonder if we could do something like that..." He lost himself in thought for a moment.

"Well," I said, "I only accepted this for two reasons: one, because Chief Griswold worked to get it for us; and two, because I don't think the SBI has realized what they have just done." I was grinning.

"Don't give yourself airs." Cindy Ross said, ever my foil if I started getting the big head about anything. Cindy had been invited to dinner with us, and at my and Britt's persuasion had come along.

"They're doing this all over the State with certain, very select local cops." Cindy continued. "My sister in Midtown was brought in three months ago, and I also heard that someone in Southport is in their Reserve club."

"I've heard that, too," Britt said, "but Don is right: there may be unintended consequences for them."

"For my part," I said, "I'm hoping that this really will mean some changes in the SBI and better working relationships with local LEOs. Chief, it's not just us that have problems with assholes like Ferrell. The SBI has built up quite a reputation: the City Police won't even talk to them anymore. Hopefully this Reserve plan will make things better."

"That's what I'm hoping, too." said the Chief, ever the diplomat. (Not.)

"By the way," Muscone said. "This is the best steak I've had in years. Really delicious food, here. Who the heck is the chef?"

Chief Griswold said "The Irish Pub, a.k.a. the Cop Bar, is run by that old man at the bar. He's a friend of mine, and he was a military officer for years, then a Town Police officer. His son refused to go into the military or the police, and went out and became a trained chef. Worked in kitchens all over Europe and America, then came back here and opened the restaurant and bar with his father. You're right: the food here is terrific. Best kept secret in Town."

"We should call that TV show 'Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives'" I said. "Get Guy Fieri out here...." I could not hide my grin as I looked at the chief.

"Don't you dare." said the Chief, pointing his finger at me. "Not until I've departed this earth."

Part 11 - Brainstorming

The 9:00pm conference in "Classroom J" centered around one issue. Where was the rifle?

"I just don't understand how that rifle disappeared into thin air." Captain Harold Malone said. "We searched every vehicle that left very thoroughly. Dogs sniffed many vehicles. We made 35 arrests for pot possession and found 72 pistols, all legally owned and their owners permitted to carry concealed. Those old people do like to be armed, I guess. But that rifle has just disappeared."

"Don?" Chief Griswold said.

"All I can say at this moment is that these perps took the time and effort to put stolen license plates on the RV and wipe it down totally. This was a well planned, carefully orchestrated assassination plot." I said, trying hard to be and sound diplomatic. "And if it was planned that well, then the extraction of the rifle, or rifles, was very carefully thought out, and as such it was successfully executed despite our best vehicle search efforts."

"We're missing something here." the Chief said, stating the obvious. "Okay, let's hear the rundown of the interviews. Settle in for a long evening, people. Croyle and Ross, start us off."

Cindy Ross discussed her interviews with various Oldeeds' Empire people, including Mrs. Oldeeds, with Teresa Croyle occasionally filling in some details. Having read the transcripts of the submitted interviews, I had a couple of questions.

"Cindy," I said, "you and Teresa both noted that Mrs. Oldeeds mentioned that her husband's business dealings AND those of his company are doing well?"

"That's right." Cindy said.

"That suggests that there are personal businesses separate from company businesses." I said. "Did she speak in terms of separate businesses at any other time?"


"That's why I wish you were at these interviews, Don." Cindy said. "She never said so explicitly..." Cindy looked at Teresa, who nodded agreement, "but some of the things she said could be construed that way."

"Make a note of that." I commented. "When, not 'if' but 'when' we talk to her again, let's bring that up and see if something shakes out."



"Tell you what, guys." Jack Muscone said, breaking in. "Let my agents handle that. Our offices are working up some information on the Oldeeds's businesses, and we're going to be having some 'extended' conversations with Rev. Oldeeds's company officers... including his wife."

"Good idea, Agent Muscone. Don, you had another question?" the Chief said to me.

"Yes... Ross and Croyle, I'd like you to give us your impressions of Mrs. Oldeeds, her mannerisms, her actions and reactions, during the interview. Your professional opinion, your unprofessional opinion... anything stand out?"

"I'll go first." Cindy said, glad to have been asked that question. "I think Mrs. Oldeeds knew a lot more than she was telling us. She really shut down when Scott, the FBI agent who went with us, joined us and began asking questions about the businesses. She also might know if there was a threat to Mr. Oldeeds, but was not prepared to share that with us."

"Teresa?" I asked.

"This won't sound professional, but I have to say it." Teresa "Cunt" Croyle said. "As I told Cindy earlier today: I've worked in Vice departments here and elsewhere long enough that I know con artists and I know whores when I see them. Vicki Oldeeds is a con artist and a whore. In my opinion, she would do anything, and I mean anything for money, especially lots of it."

"You think she's a suspect?" the Chief asked.

"She cannot be ruled out. She couldn't have done it herself, of course; she was sitting on stage with all those people watching. But could she have hired someone?" Teresa replied.

"Muscone, that might be something else your Federal people will have to look into." said Chief Griswold.

After hearing from several other officers and FBI agents about their interviews, which were essentially inconsequential, the Chief took steps to wrap it up.

"Myron, correlate all of the information from the interviews." he said.

Myron got up and addressed the assemblage. "First, I appreciate your efforts to get your reports into the computers in a timely manner."

Wow, I thought, Myron was really taking leadership steps, complimenting people, making friends and influencing officers. I was proud of him.

He continued. "Second, not a single person in the Oldeeds entourage or company said anything about any problems, nor any reason that someone might want to shoot Rev. Oldeeds. They're either well-trained to not say anything, or there really is nothing at all to give us a clue who might have wanted to shoot Oldeeds. Furthermore, there is no evidence of any problems within the organization, nor grudges, and Rev. and Mrs. Oldeeds were said to be totally in love, had no problems or fights, or any of that sort of stuff."

"Okay Don, wrap this up now and tell us who did it and what he did with the gun." Chief Griswold said, unable to hide the gleam in his eye.

"Thanks for lowering the expectations so much, Chief." I replied, coming right back at him.

Everyone laughed, but then fell silent as I said, "As Myron summated, I don't think we're going to get anything from the Oldeeds people. The FBI are the guys who will, and who will have to, find any information on the company that might give us a lead there. What we do know is that there were two shooters firing two from different locations."

I paused, for the effect of the unexpected, then said "Detective Perlman! What did you think of the examination of the crime scene today?" I wanted to see if she had gotten it.

Tanya stood up. "I came to the conclusion that whoever fired from the RV was shooting at you, Don. Deliberately. At you, not at Rev. Oldeeds." she said. The room burst into a hum of discussion.

"I think you're right, Tanya." I said, taking back control. "So tell everyone why you came to that conclusion."

Tanya replied "I am not the best shooter in the world, but if I can't take a scoped rifle and hit a broad shouldered man wearing a white shirt in the back at 40 yards, then I need to turn in my service weapon. I don't see how in the world a shooter at Oldeeds from that range would have missed that badly. And the fact that the shooter almost did get you, Don... it just adds up. I think you were the target."

She had figured it out... and while I wanted to make sure she got credit for it, I had another reason for having her announce it.... it was imperative that certain people heard that it was someone besides myself that had figured that out. I knew where this was leading... it was only a matter of figuring out where the gun had walked away to, and finding the perp or perps that had shot at me.