Just as Frank and Anita were heading back to the beach, Jonesy was setting out on the short trip over the Intracoastal Waterway to Queens Harbor to visit Pastor Rick Worthington. He wanted to give Worthington enough time to get home and settle in after his televised Sunday morning service. He thought that confronting Worthington when his defenses were down might result in a better outcome than their last chat. Jonesy drove his Subaru crossover which, while not stylish, was long enough to carry his surfboards and respectable enough to drive around different residential neighborhoods without drawing attention. He pulled up to the guard shack that restricted entry to the complex and told the guard he was here to visit his friend Bob Benzel. The guard checked the list, gave Jonesy a temporary pass and opened the gate. Jonesy drove through and navigated to the address that he had for the good pastor. It occurred to Jonesy as he drove past the multi-million dollar homes that the traditional image of religious leaders had changed. This pastor didn't even try to portray an image of humility.
Jonesy turned down a street with a 'No Outlet' sign and pulled in front of a tan stucco covered house in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The house was on the water with its own dock in the back. As Jonesy looked toward the dock, he could see Worthington sitting in a folding canvas chair fishing in the stocked waterway. Jonesy decided to walk directly to the dock. As he got close to Worthington, he could see that the pastor was enjoying a beer while he fished and that there were four empty beer cans on the floor dock near his feet.
"Are they biting today?"
"I suppose you mean the fish, Mr. Jones. I was wondering when one of you would get here. Once my file in Tulsa was unsealed, I knew it was only a matter of time."
Jonesy was struck by the calmness in Worthington's voice, possibly attributed to the beer consumption.
"You must admit that the parallels between your file and the Maggie Bullock situation are more than an amazing coincidence."
"I was a young and troubled man then. I am quite different now."
"That sounds great, but forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical. We have a pregnant 16 year old girl who wrote about being in love with an older charismatic man. When we factor in your past history and our investigation naturally leads to you."
"That assumes that I am the same lecherous person that I was in my youth, Mr. Jones. Actually, I'm not capable of what you're accusing me of."
"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."
"You don't have to take my word. I am physically unable to do what you and Mr. Rozzani are accusing me of."
Worthington went on to tell Jonesy his story.
"I was the typical rebellious child of a preacher. I went out of my way to impress my peers by drinking the most alcohol, doing the most drugs, and sleeping with the most girls that I possibly could. Luckily, most of the girls that I slept with were experienced and used some type of contraception. Sally Fulsom was different. She was a sophomore at my high school. I was a senior. She had wholesome looks and was incredibly bright. She was an honor roll student with a promising future. I crossed paths with her because of my bragging to my friends about the number of girls that I conquered. I told them that I could have sex with any girl in the school. They were tired of my bragging and challenged me to land Sally Fulsom. She never had a boyfriend and was totally focused on school. I took the challenge and, although it wasn't easy, I used every bit of my charm and finally convinced Sally to go on a date with me. I had my own car and I picked Sally up for the date, took her to dinner, a movie, and back home. I was a perfect gentleman."
"I don't understand. She didn't get pregnant from you being a gentleman."
"It was all part of my plan to gain her trust. But there was something I didn't plan on. From the first date with Sally, I realized that she was an intelligent, fun girl to be with. I actually liked her and enjoyed spending time with her. I started to feel guilty about the bet and tried to back out of it on the day after our date. My friends wouldn't let it go. They questioned my manhood. Even worse, they called me the name that I hated most, 'Preacher's Son'. I decided to continue the bet. Then it all went out of control. Sally Fulsom fell head over heels in love with me and wanted to spend every minute together. I could easily cash in on the bet, but the little bit of conscience that I had stopped me. Eventually, teenage hormones took over, however. One night, when we were parked in the car on a deserted dirt road, it finally happened. I knew she was a virgin and was stupid enough to believe the rumor that a virgin couldn't get pregnant the first time she has sex. We both know how that turned out. Sally got pregnant.
I couldn't escape from it. My father was angrier than he had ever been. I offered to do the right thing and support Sally and the baby. My father wouldn't hear of it. He said the scandal would affect his position in the church and would reflect on the church itself. Sally's parents were not any more understanding. Because I was almost 18, they wanted me tried as an adult for statutory rape. They wanted me to pay for ruining their daughter's promising future. Sally and I just wanted to be together. I wasn't allowed to contact her. I was eventually arrested. Sally sunk into a deep depression and she committed suicide. It happened while her parents were talking to the police in their downstairs living room. She locked herself in the bathroom and slit her wrists in the bathtub."
Worthington stopped to collect himself, obviously still hurting from this event. Jonesy quietly waited for him to continue.
"My father called in some serious favors to have me tried as a juvenile with sealed records. When it came time for sentencing, the church made sure I was sentenced to two years in a Texas-based Christian Boot Camp. The camp was closer to a prison than to a Christian retreat or seminary. My days were spent working the fields of the camp's small farm where we grew fruit and vegetables and sold them. The rest of the day was spent studying scripture. In the two years that I was at the camp, the Bible was analyzed cover-to-cover at least four times. I could handle the labor and survived the studying. It was the nights in the dormitory that were the hell of being at this camp. There was a pecking order. I never told anyone why I was there, but somehow the more hardened "campers" found out what I did. That's when the beatings and abuse started. First it was taunting. I felt I deserved it. When I wouldn't fight back, it turned into beatings. I was beaten, sodomized, and abused in many other disgusting ways. By the time the abuse stopped, I was physically damaged to the point that what landed me in the camp was no longer physically possible. That was when I devoted myself fully to God's work."
Jonesy was truly stunned by the revelation that Worthington was incapable of being the father of Maggie's baby. The man would never physically recover, but he had apparently recovered spiritually to the point where he could inspire thousands of people, including Maggie.
"I feel like I owe you an enormous apology on this," Jonesy said.
"I appreciate that," Worthington said quietly with his head bowed. "I'm not completely innocent when it comes to your case, however."
"What do you mean?"
"The father of Maggie's baby came to me for advice. It was like reliving a nightmare. He and Maggie were in love and he wanted to do the right thing."
"Why was that a nightmare? I don't follow."
"Unfortunately, he was a 19 year old seminary student interning at the church for the summer."
"What advice did you give them?"
"I advised them to sit down with their parents and explain the situation. They are both the children of Christian parents and they obviously loved each other deeply. My hope was that the parents would see this and work through it with them like my dad and Sally's parents couldn't."
"Did they follow your advice?"
"They intended to. Maggie was going to talk to her parents immediately after the retreat. She wanted to talk to them together with the baby's father. She had every confidence that her parents, although likely to be shocked, would ultimately be helpful and would help them speak with his father."
"And then she ran away. Do you find that strange?"
"I do. I have been agonizing over it since we first spoke. The reality of the situation has sunk in. I am starting to agree with the Bullocks."
"You think she was taken against her will?"
"I do."
"By whom? When Maggie and the baby's father met with you, who else did you tell?"
The pastor struggled for an answer to Jonesy's question.
"My first reaction was to keep it confidential until they had a chance to at least speak to the Bullocks. Travis is a church elder. My fear was, if I told the other elders, word would get back to Travis before Maggie had a chance to speak with her parents. Because of Maggie's age, however, I had to bring the situation to our senior elder, Stuart Jameson. He is a Saint Johns County judge so I felt he was the best choice to lend advice and to exercise discretion."
"Stuart Jameson. I know him very well. I didn't realize he was an elder in your church. Are you aware of the ownership hierarchy of Christianity Today?"
"My accountability is to the elders and to the membership. I've never been much of a business man. I'm a man of God. This house, my car, my expenses, they're all covered by my business manager who was appointed by the church. I do not even know how much I make, Mr. Jones."
Jonesy was seeing Worthington in a new light. This man was not the manipulator, he was being manipulated.
"I want to thank you for your honesty this time around," Jonesy said.
"It's the least I can do. If there is further help I can offer, please feel free to contact me without a sneak attack."
"I will," Jonesy said as they shook hands.
As Jonesy left, he actually felt an emotion toward Worthington that he not felt previously, pity. Now he would turn his attention to Stuart Jameson who must have tipped someone off that started the process that led to Maggie's disappearance. Jonesy called Frank as soon as he was back in the Subaru.
Frank's cell phone sounded with the familiar ring tone assigned to Jonesy. He put the phone on speaker so that Anita could listen in.
"Rozzani"
"Frank, how is your day going?"
"Let's see. I was pulled over by a yokel cop, threatened, and had to drive all over North Florida to enjoy these things."
"Sounds like you had more fun than I did. I was able to talk with Rick Worthington. He's not our man, but he did give me a good lead."
Jonesy and Frank caught each other up.
"Every time I think we're on the verge of solving this one, it takes a turn," Frank said. "Is Cobb just a sick old man with shady business dealings? Is Worthington just a simple, gifted preacher? What about Drake? He was nowhere to be found."
"We've still got some digging to do," Jonesy said. "If we can find the baby-daddy, we might find a clue to Maggie's whereabouts. Worthington would not share his name with me. I'll hit the ground running tomorrow with Judge Jameson."
"I'll work on the doctor and the baby-daddy angle," Frank said.
"And, I'll track down Bubba Drake," Anita chimed in. "If he's involved in this, I want to be the one to bust him."
Frank and Anita finished the drive back by mid-afternoon. She said goodbye to Frank and Lucy, fired up her Harley, and was on her way. Frank decided to spend the remainder of the afternoon researching the doctor in Green Cove Springs that visited Cobb and try to discover who the father of Maggie's baby might be. He and Lucy headed back into the trailer. He saw that his answering machine light was blinking again. He punched the play button and it was a hang-up. The caller ID told him, by the 570 area code, that it was a Scranton number again. When he did a reverse lookup on the number before, it came up as unlisted. He had not expended the energy to find out who it was listed to yet. The odds were that it was a telemarketer or some other automated call. He couldn't shake the feeling that it might be something else. Right now, he couldn't let it distract him. Time was critical on the Bullock case.
He settled in front of his computer. Lucy lay down at his feet.
"Sorry I've been neglecting you girl. I promise I'll take some time off after this case and we'll have some fun."
He scratched between her ears and she wagged her tail in thanks.
Frank decided to start with the doctor Anita had seen at Cobb's property. He used Google to search for Doctor Robert Wells in Green Cove Springs. He expected Wells to come up as a general practitioner, internist, urologist, or even an oncologist based on Cobb's age. What he discovered was not expected. Doctor Wells was an obstetrician. What could that possibly mean? More unanswered questions. It now seemed important to find the baby's father. Since he was an intern at the church, Frank thought he might find some clues on the church's web site. He looked at the staff page first. The seminary student was not listed. He then went into the photo gallery page to look at pictures of recent events. He started with the youth group picnic. There were three pictures out of the 25 for this event that showed Maggie Bullock. In two of them, she was next to a handsome young man wearing a Christianity Today pastel polo shirt. He then looked at photos for an event called "Rock the Universe," a Christian music event at the Universal Studios theme park in Orlando. Of the 60 photos, Maggie was in seven of them, four of which also contained the mystery young man.
"He must be the one."
Lucy looked up at him as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.
Frank finally hit pay dirt when he looked at the May edition of the church newsletter. Toward the end of the document, there was a blurb about the seminary students that would be participating in the summer internship program at Christianity Today. There were three. One was female. The second, a twenty something prematurely balding man. The third was an exact match for the mystery man seen in the pictures with Maggie Bullock. The article identified him as Troy Compton, a young man from Amelia Island, just north of Jacksonville. Frank found two Comptons in Amelia Island. One was a 70 year old woman and the other, Joseph Compton, was 42. He made note of the address and telephone number. Frank would visit the Compton house tomorrow.
As Frank continued to search, there was a knock on the door of his trailer. Lucy, who had been dozing at his feet, jumped up to greet the visitor. She shot out the doggie door before Frank had a chance to see who it was. It was Nancy.
"Hi Frank, I saw your car and thought I would take a chance on coming by and checking on the patient."
"Which one, Lucy or me?"
"Well, mostly Lucy, but I wanted to see how you were doing too."
Nancy was wearing a tank top and yoga pants which showed off her fit body. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail which showed off her attractive hazel eyes. Frank wondered if she always looked this good or if he was just starting to notice.
"Come on in. I'm just doing some research, but I'm mostly done for tonight."
Nancy sat down in one of Frank's two chairs and Lucy came to her immediately. Nancy looked at the snake bite site and felt the wound carefully. Lucy wagged her tail seemingly enjoying the attention.
"She is healing just fine. I think she is going to recover fully."
"I'm honored by the house call. You certainly offer premium service."
"Lucy is a special patient. I don't offer this service to everyone."
This snappy interchange was followed by a lingering silence. Finally Nancy was the first to speak again.
"Are you OK Frank?"
"I'm not sure I'll ever be completely OK. I'm better. Being able to open up to you the other night was a big help. It's just one day at a time for me."
Nancy patted his arm and then left her hand on his forearm. Frank felt that same warmth as the last time she had touched him. It was spreading up his arm. Suddenly Nancy sprung to her feet.
"C'mon. You and Lucy can walk me home. I want to watch her walk."
Frank followed Nancy and Lucy out of the trailer. They decided to walk the short distance on the beach instead of on the road. Since it was Sunday afternoon, the beach was nearly deserted. The Floridians were in their air conditioned houses and the tourists had either l
eft or had not arrived for the week yet. Nancy and Frank walked at a slow pace while Lucy stalked the sea birds searching for tasty morsels in the sand. They walked close to each other, their hands and arms occasionally touching every few steps. Finally Nancy grabbed Frank's hand and they walked along like a couple of teenagers. Various feelings went through Frank's mind including guilt, excitement, comfort, and other long dormant feelings. They turned to use the walkover that would take them toward Nancy's place. Lucy ran ahead and was lying on the porch by the time Frank and Nancy reached the house. She looked a bit too comfortable. Frank regretted that it was time to stop holding hands. While he was prolonging it, Nancy moved in for a hug. The warmth rapidly spread through Frank's body. Nancy kissed his cheek and then moved to kiss his lips. The warmth was now reaching its boiling point. Nancy whispered to Frank asking if he would like to come inside. Frank tensed up. She had her answer before he could verbalize it. He just wasn't ready.
"I'm sorry. This case. I've got a busy day tomorrow."
"It's OK. It's just not time yet."
Frank gave her one last hug, questioning his reluctance to take this next step as he did. Nancy was smart, beautiful, independent, and most importantly, Lucy liked her. As he walked back toward the beach with Lucy, he nearly turned back toward Nancy's house, but instead continued back to the trailer.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Frankly Speaking - A Frank Rozzani Detective Novel (#1) Page 18
