That’s exactly what Marky had said. He seemed to think they weren’t looking very hard, either.
Tri-Patrice leaned toward me. “And you? How did your interviews go?”
“We’ve talked to Desiree, to that church out west of town that handles snakes, and to the Prairie Dog Defense League.”
Trisha looked confused. “Why?”
“Bobby planted some false clues,” I said, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Just messing with us. On the other hand, I did find out a lot about Prairie Dogs. Did you know they face the sunrise and sunset every day and put their palms together like they’re praying?”
“I did not know that.”
“Also, they make great pets, but the practice was outlawed after the monkeypox outbreak of 2009.” I only giggled a little bit.
“Are they claiming responsibility for the vandalism last weekend?”
“They were trying very hard not to claim responsibility, from what I could see,” I said.
The Fat Fighter leader came in then, carrying a set of plastic clapping hands and flapping them noisily around. “All right all right all right!” she crowed. “Let’s get this party started!”
Which was why I would never be a Fat Fighters leader.
“So how did the big events go yesterday?” Trisha asked me as we walked out of the meeting and toward our cars. “Did you tear the place down?”
“I only broke one thing.”
“And that guy, Marky? Did you talk to him?”
It was an innocuous question, but I didn’t really care for her tone. As if the words in her head were really, “And that weirdo guy, Marky?”
“We’re friends, actually,” I said. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. Why not?”
“Nothing. I just...I didn’t picture you two as friends.”
I wondered what kind of person she did picture me being friends with, but I didn’t ask. “He’s a nice guy,” I said again. “He’s devastated, of course. Apparently he and CJ were very close.”
“Does he have any ideas on who could have done it?”
I shrugged. “Not anything solid.” I remembered what he had told me, about fighting with CJ before he was killed. I started to tell Trisha that part, but reconsidered. She would automatically think that was suspicious behavior. “Yesterday he said he doubted the police would ever find out who did it.”
“They’ll find them,” she said. “I mean, it’s too unusual, right? Too bizarre.”
“I would think that would make it harder to solve,” I said.
“Nope, easier. According to Sherlock Holmes, anyway.” She tore open the box of Strat-EAT-Gic Plan bars and tilted the box toward me in offering.
I didn’t think twice. I had promised myself I would buy a box of those overpriced candy bars as a reward when I got to the twenty-pound mark, but heck, that might never happen. Besides, I hadn’t bought this one, Trisha had, so it didn’t count.
“If Sherlock Holmes was here, he would have solved it already.” I bit into the bar. It was chewy.
“Yeah, looks like we’re stuck with Lubbock PD. And you and your partners.” She laughed.
“Partner,” I corrected, but it came out kind of garbled because of the caramel stuck to my teeth. I tried to suck it out. “Dale isn’t sticking around.”
But Trisha was already checking her phone. I figured it was kind of a miracle she’d talked to me that long without her electronic fix.
She clicked something and tucked into her handbag. “Drama at work, I have to go. See less of you next week?” Then she laughed. Because it was so frigging funny.
I only had seven dogs, and two of them were schnauzers, which are pretty quick jobs if they don’t fight too much. Even with coming in late, I was done by around four o’clock. I swept up my station, filled out my paperwork, and looked around for Dale.
“Gone,” Flo said flatly. She didn’t look at me. I think she was mad at me for bringing him to work there. I couldn’t blame her. I was kind of mad at myself.
No one called to ask when I would be done and ready to do some more investigating. I checked my paperwork again. Still nothing. I looked outside. No Caddy. I went to the bathroom and checked the tiny mirror over the sink to see if I could tell a difference after my big two-pound weight loss. I came back out. No Viv. No Dale.
I was headed for the front door when the phone rang. “Hang on, she’s just walking out the door.”
I am not proud of how quickly I spun around and beat a path back to the phone.
“Do you have time to come out here and look at something for me?”
It was Trisha. I was kind of mad at her for not being Viv, but I tried to hide it. “Look at what?”
“Just a clip I need to show you. It shouldn’t take very long.”
It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do, I thought. “Yeah, I’ll be out there in about ten minutes.”
Since I’d been to Channel 11 a few times with Trisha, the receptionist had stopped acting like I was there to bomb the place. Apparently Trisha had told her I was coming, because she smiled her brilliant smile and said, “Hey, you two!” Like we were old friends. “Go on back.”
Trisha was rushing around the newsroom like she had important things to do. Since it was almost 4:45, I could see why. The broadcast was starting in fifteen minutes. That’s why I was a little surprised that she’d called me out.
She was busy talking to the reporter that Viv swore couldn’t be over nine years old. Not yelling, exactly, but just one notch below it.
“That’s what he always says, but he’s full of crap. Call him again, get the quote and get your package ready before the six o’clock or you’re doing the Sunday morning broadcast for the next month.”
He stalked away, looking like a two-year-old ready to pitch a big fit.
“Isn’t he cute?” Trisha said to me. “Come on, let’s go into the editing bay.”
We went into a closet-sized room with a wall full of buttons, knobs and dials. Monitors lined one wall at desk height.
“I have to go do the five o’clock, but I thought you should see the entire interview your friend gave the other night.”
My stomach dropped. “I really don’t think – “
“You need to see the whole interview.” She motioned for me to sit, leaned over and clicked the mouse a couple of times. “Just FYI, she’s gone. I made sure of that this afternoon.”
The door clicked shut behind her and the video started. The reporter was smiling her shy smile at Les, as if he was doing her a personal favor.
“Just a couple of questions about your ministry.”
Les was always willing to talk about his ministry, so I wasn’t surprised when he put aside his discomfort with the spotlight.
She went through a few questions about Exodus: How long have you been doing this? How many people come through the doors? What effects do you see on the people who use the ministry?
Les was in the middle of one story about a father and son who’d both served sentences at the same time (different crimes) and had come to Exodus separately, but reunited and worked together to stay out and build a family together.
“There’s no question that prison is a necessary part of a functional society,” Les was saying. “But it’s not the end of the story. For those who come out, there’s more to write, and we –”
“Yes, absolutely,” Katelyn said, bobbing her head. “It’s clear that you’re doing an enormous service for the community. Listen, before you go, I want to get to one quick question that’s been on the minds of the people of our community. You are probably aware that this very building was the scene of another event, just one week ago.”
Les studied her for a second and gave her what I call his ‘praying for patience’ look. I knew that look well.
He gave one nod. “I read the papers,” he said.
I wanted to give him a high five. He could have said, “I watch t
he news,” to this TV news reporter, but he didn’t. Because he didn’t watch the news. He didn’t watch television much at all.
“Then you know that the events leading to the tragic death of CJ Hardin started here, in this building, at last week’s Hope for Home fundraiser.”
“I don’t know that,” Les said evenly. “I am unaware of any of the events that lead to Dr. Hardin’s death. And I would suggest that if you know what led to his death, you talk to the police. I hear they’re looking for information.”
“Of course,” she said with a laugh, slipping back into the helpless newbie act. “What I meant to say was, you’re aware of the controversy that came to light last week, when Dr. Hardin was seen in what appeared to be a romantic embrace with another man.”
“Can you tell me what this has to do with Exodus?” Les asked.
“Certainly. The reason I ask is that tonight is proof that you have become a well-respected leader in our community, that your opinion is highly valued.”
“The only opinion I have about Dr. Hardin is that his loss was a tragedy, and my condolences go out to his family.”
“As a leader in the religious community, it could be helpful to others to know your opinion of same-sex relationships.”
“I’d prefer to focus on what we’re about at Exodus. Like second chances. Like redemption. Like love.”
“As a preacher, do you believe that same-sex marriages are included God’s plan for our lives?”
Again with the look. “I’m not a preacher, actually. I’m the ice cream man.”
The reporter blinked and stood silent for a moment. Then she turned to the cameraman. “Nick, can you stop rolling for a second?”
The camera shifted a little, but didn’t stop rolling.
“Mr. Nolan, I understand your hesitation to talk about this subject. It’s difficult. It’s just that...” She frowned, then chewed her lip. “I don’t know – there’s so much animosity and hard feelings flying around right now. People have such strong opinions, and sometimes it seems like people don’t even know why they believe what they believe. They just go with what they’ve always been told and what feels right to them, based on how they were raised. I think that maybe a—a well thought out, rational dialogue could go a long way toward calming things. Give people a chance to really reflect on why they believe what they believe. There’s not really a lot of rational discussion going on right now.”
“Yes, well...”
“If you don’t mind, I really would like to get your thoughts on the subject. And don’t worry, I’m not interested in stirring the pot. We can edit this to make sure your point is clear and you get a chance to say what you intend to say. Like I said, just some respectful, well-considered words would be very welcome right now.”
Les sighed and looked at Bonnie. She shrugged and gave him a patient smile. He turned back to the reporter. “Okay, let’s do this.”
The reporter wrinkled her nose and smiled at him, and I was suddenly very glad she’d been fired. Manipulative little witch.
She took a deep breath, turned to signal to the cameraman, and then put her reporter voice back on.
“As you probably know, the issue of homosexuality has been the topic of much heated debate with people in our area over the past week. And I’d like to take the opportunity to ask your opinion as a leader in the religious community. Why are people so sure that God sees homosexuality as a sin?”
“Well, the Bible says some pretty strong things about same-gender sexual relationships, and none of them are good. First Corinthians says that homosexuals will not inherit the Kingdom of God. The Old Testament actually forbids the practice of same-gender sexual relations in the same passage where it forbids incest and bestiality.”
The reporter gave a charming little grimace.
Les nodded. “Pretty harsh, right? Now, we’ve decided as a society to disregard many of the things the Old Testament says. The food laws, for instance. Modern day Christians don’t observe those laws, and they’re not penalized for that in any way. And of course I’m sure you know that the Old Testament also addresses how we’re to treat our slaves. There were assumptions made as a regular part of everyday living in those times that just don’t apply anymore.”
“Are you saying we should just ignore the Old Testament?”
“No, of course not. I think the Old Testament is God’s instruction on the best way to live. The endless lists of rules – those were proof that God cared about his people and wanted the best for them. Each of those rules meant something for their benefit.” He gestured with his hands to indicate he was talking about a different people. “Where they were. In that time. The circumstances they lived under. But we do get to decide what we, as a society, consider acceptable.”
“Like gay marriage?”
“Right. Like gay marriage.”
“Are you for it or against it?”
“I have no problem with it. Look.” He leaned forward, still with one hand on Bonnie’s arm. “As a married couple, we have certain rights. If I’m accused of a crime, Bonnie can’t be forced to testify against me. We have different tax rates because we’re married. She inherits my property, and I will inherit hers, and neither one of us will have to fight the court for that. Those are rights we have as a married couple. God didn’t grant us those rights. We decided – ” He made a circle with his free hand, indicating the world at large. “We as a society decided on that. We have the right to do that and as a society, we have the responsibility to do that. To decide how we want to function as a group.”
“You spoke a moment ago about God’s plan for us. Do you think same-sex relationships are in God’s plan for our lives?”
“To be honest, I don’t think my relationship was God’s plan for my life,” Les said. “I think God’s plan for me was to be faithful to my first wife and to honor the marriage vows I took then. I chose not to live that plan. I don’t think drinking my way through my twenties and thirties was God’s plan for my life, either, or the robberies I committed. I’m living in Plan B right now. I don’t think a single person who walks through the doors of Exodus Ministries has been living God’s plan for their lives. What I do know is that God is the God of redemption. The Bible says He makes beauty from ashes, and that’s what we’re about at Exodus. That’s what I’m living in right now – with this woman who took a man who’d made nothing but mistakes, and asked for a second chance.” He put his hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “We’re about God’s grace, and second chances, and living in redemption.”
“I read an article the other day about a very well-known evangelist, who said he feared God’s wrath if we legalize gay marriage in this country. Is that a concern of yours?”
“Listen, Jesus might not have said anything about homosexuality, but he was very clear on how we were to treat each other. He commanded us to love one another. He commanded us to feed each other, to welcome strangers into our homes. He wanted us to take care of each other. In this world we have people starving. We have homeless. We don’t open our homes to each other. And going back to the Old Testament – the very first commandment that God gave Moses – before Thou shall not murder, Thou shall not steal – was to remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. He could not have been more clear on that. Now...” Les shrugged. “You know, we go to church if we feel like it. If the weather is nice, but not too nice, because if it’s very nice we want to be on the golf course. Or, you know, if we’re really busy at the office, we go to work for a few hours, get some work done while it’s quiet. Sure, we’d like to honor the Sabbath, but...we have stuff to do. We give ourselves a pass on things like that all the time.”
The reporter nodded like she mourned this travesty every day.
“There are many things that I’m concerned about in our world. Lots of ways we could be doing this better. If I feared God’s wrath for anything, it would be for that.”
“Okay, bottom line – do you believe homosexuality is a sin?”
“I’m going
to go back to the first thing I said. Every time the Bible talks about same-sex relationships, it’s condemned. That, for me, says it all.”
“Are homosexuals welcome into your ministry?”
“We welcome murderers, liars, thieves, abusers. We’re certainly not going to draw the line at sexual orientation. Everyone is welcome.”
“Are you comparing homosexuality to murder?”
“What I’m saying – what I want to make very clear – is that everyone is welcome at Exodus. It’s a prison ministry, so clearly not everyone is going to be interested in going there. But if they walk through the doors, they’re welcome.”
I hung around the station until Tri-Patrice got finished, catching the sports and weather.
“You fired her?” I asked Trisha when she walked back to her desk in the newsroom.
“No, she quit. When I told her she’d need to issue an apology to Les and that we’d make the entire interview available online, uncut, including her manipulative little act at the beginning, she decided there were greener pastures for her. This is her big break. She’s already gone viral. She’s definitely going to be the next big thing.” Trisha rolled her eyes and tugged off her jacket. “Did you see the story about Friends of Joshua?”
“No, what story? I guess that came on when I was in the booth.”
“You know their donations are way up since CJ’s death, right? Yesterday they got an anonymous donation for just over $68,000. Almost exactly what was stolen from CJ.”
“Wow,” I said.
“I know. Weird, right?” She dropped into her chair and opened up her email and picked up her phone at the same time. “The prompter on two is running a little slow,” she said into the phone. “Speed it up just a hair. And I’m still getting that buzzing in my ear. Can you see if there’s an extra set in the back before the six o’clock?”
When she hung up I said, “You’re looking for an extra set of ears?”
“An extra set of headphones. What do you think?”
I shrugged. “I guess if you need new headphones, that’ll be fine.”
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