| |
Reverend Jeremiah Sharp’s church stood out amongst the run-down houses in the impoverished New Orleans neighborhood. It wasn’t a huge building like some of the televangelist churches I had seen on TV had, but it was brand new construction and appeared to have been recently remodeled. There were also high definition security cameras at every corner and a couple of large men acting as security near the front and side entrances.
After recovering my weapons and rescuing Kruger from dog jail, we had gone back to the bed and breakfast to recharge with food and a nap. After, I fired up my laptop and started doing research on the card I had found in LeShawn Revis’s recovered Monte Carlo.
On the surface, Reverend Sharp’s “Church of The Glorious Savior” appeared to be a very positive influence in the local community. I found multiple articles documenting the work they had done helping people find jobs, rebuilding houses after a recent tropical storm, and even offering free daycare so that single mothers could work. I couldn’t find a single article that might tie Sharp to anything nefarious.
With nothing more than a business card and a hunch, Kruger and I loaded up and drove over to the reverend’s church. It was just after lunch, and the only activity seemed to be associated with the small daycare.
Kruger slept in the back of my truck as I watched a younger woman escort four children to the nearby playground. It also appeared to be brand new with freshly painted equipment and a well-maintained yard. Money was apparently no issue for this church, which was in stark contrast to its surroundings.
We were parked across the street in between another truck and an old minivan. I struggled to stay awake as I watched the woman sit down on a park bench and pull out her cell phone. She appeared to look around nervously as she started texting.
Moments later, a man emerged from the church with two large men wearing black t-shirts. They appeared to be his bodyguards as they shadowed him to where the woman was sitting. She seemed startled as she looked up and saw him approaching.
The woman quickly put away the phone and then called out to the children. They turned toward her and froze when they saw the man approaching. She stood to face him as he entered the playground, leaving the bodyguards behind.
The kids stayed where they were as they watched the man walk up to the woman and hold out his hand. She shook her head and looked away, but the man seemed to insist. She reluctantly pulled out the phone and handed it to him.
As they stood there, I took out my phone and zoomed in as best I could before the image went grainy. I snapped a few pictures, just in case either of the two was important to the case.
The man looked at the phone as the woman cowered before him. He scrolled through it for a few minutes, presumably reading the text conversation she was having before he arrived, and then tossed the phone to one of his men.
Kruger perked up in the back seat as she sensed me getting tense. I was sure that the man was about to get violent with the obviously scared woman. She started crying and shaking uncontrollably as she stared at the ground with her arms folded. I debated whether to cause a distraction to spare the poor woman the inevitable abuse.
Time seemed to stand still as the man moved toward her. My stomach turned as I saw the man raise his right arm. There was nothing I could do to stop it, but I had already calculated my next move.
As I put the truck in gear to drive over there and stop what I thought to be a battery in progress, I saw the man instead wrap his arms around the woman in a full embrace. I put the truck back in park as the woman buried her head in the man’s shoulder.
He patted her head as he held her in his arms. It had been a very weird interaction. I was a little ashamed of myself for being so wrong in reading the situation. I was more tired than I had originally thought.
The man kept his arm around the woman as he escorted her inside. One of his bodyguards stayed behind and made the children follow them in single file while the other went ahead to open the door for the duo. It all seemed very strange and cult-like, or I was very tired. Or both.
I had been so fixated with the scene unfolding outside the church, I had completely missed the NOPD Ford Explorer pull up next to the car behind me. Kruger suddenly started barking, causing me to nearly go through the roof.
I looked up and saw an officer standing near the rear of my truck, calling in my license plate on her collar mic. I turned back left, and a male officer knocked on my window. I gave Kruger a command to stop barking and then put both hands on the wheel.
“Turn the vehicle off and step out, please, sir,” the officer said before I could lower the window.
I did as he instructed, placing the keys on top of the dash as I slowly exited the vehicle with my hands visible.
“Do you have any weapons on you today?” the officer asked as he grabbed my left wrist. “Any guns, knives, bombs, bazookas?”
“My off-duty weapon is holstered near my appendix,” I said. “I’m an off-duty twenty-six.”
The officer ignored the fact that I had just told him I’m a police officer using the code twenty-six. Instead, he grabbed my right hand and placed it behind my back with my left.
“For your safety and mine, I am detaining you until we figure this out,” the officer said as he clicked the handcuffs. “Is your dog aggressive?”
“She’s a police K9,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll get to that in a second,” the officer said as he turned me around and lifted up my shirt, revealing the holstered Glock 19.
The female officer joined us, and the male officer handed her the weapon. She cleared it, placing the chambered round on the driver’s seat of my truck along with the magazine. She walked back to the rear of the truck and keyed her collar mic, presumably to run the serial number of the weapon to check if it was stolen.
“Any other weapons on you?” the male officer asked as he put on a pair of black gloves.
“Just my knife in my left front pocket. Mind telling me why you’re detaining me?”
The officer did a pat-down, once again ignoring my questions. He removed my wallet from my front right pocket and opened it, revealing my commission and badge. He took out my driver’s license as the other officer came back and shook her head as she placed my Glock in the bed of the truck. The male officer nodded and handed her my ID before ordering me to sit on the curb.
“Troy Wilson?” he asked.
“That’s me.”
“Before she runs your information, do you have any warrants or anything we should know about? Ever been in trouble?”
“You have my commission and badge in your hand; what do you think?”
“I think you’re a long way from Texas, so you should probably lose the attitude.”
“Maybe,” I said as I grew increasingly more annoyed. “But we’re still in America, right? Constitution is still a thing, yeah?”
“Well, if you’re really a cop, you should know that everything we’ve done so far is perfectly within the limits of the Constitution. You are being detained and are not under arrest. You’re in handcuffs for your safety and mine because you were armed.”
“Okay, first of all, you didn’t know that before I told you. And second, being armed is perfectly legal in the State of Louisiana. So, why don’t you save us the bullshit and tell me what’s really going on here.”
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“I don’t know,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “You just made me sit down. Maybe a minute.”
“Now, you see, when you’re evasive like that, it doesn’t really help your case.”
“What case? Is it illegal to sit in a parked car in New Orleans?”
The officer shook his head. “No, but it is illegal to sit in a parked car masturbating to kids on a playground, you sick fuck.”
“Have you lost your goddamned mind? Who called that in?” I asked angrily. Masturbating? I couldn’t believe it.
“Ten fifty both ways,” the female officer said as she walked back and handed the male officer my driver’s license.
“See!” I said as I tried to calm myself. “I told you who I am. Now, this is bullshit!”
“What are you doing here?” the male officer asked again. “Why are you watching this church and playground, then?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said as I finally calmed myself. “Public street. Do you have any witnesses?”
The officer hesitated for a minute before looking at his partner. Of course! The security team must have seen me and called it in. It was the only logical explanation.
“Tell you what,” I said as they seemed to suddenly be confused by my question. “Look in my wallet and pull out the first business card. Call Detective Jackson. He’ll vouch for me because I’ve already been through this with him after I saved two of your boys last night.”
“Saved our boys?” the female officer asked.
“Yeah, at the Super Dome.”
“The dog,” I heard her mumble as she looked at Kruger, who was sitting patiently staring back at her. “That was you two.”
“What?” the male officer asked her.
“Last night. The guy with the dog who hit that kid with the gun,” she said before nodding toward me.
The male officer opened my wallet and found Detective Jackson’s business card. “Ah, fuck,” he said as he flicked it. “Stand up, my man, I’m sorry.”
I complied and turned around as he pulled a cuff key out of his shirt pocket.
“Okay, now how about you tell me what’s really going on here?” I asked as I turned to face him.
I caught him nervously glancing back at the church.
“Alright,” he said, “but not here. We can talk somewhere else.”
“Lead the way,” I said.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll give you an address. You meet us there.”