Retreat and Renewal Center to Brother Gabriel North’s private residence.
“Why the gun?” Evie asked their escort. She’d seen the bulge under his jacket the minute he met them at the front gate of the fenced compound.
“Lots of undesirable critters in the canyons,” the escort said.
These grassy hills and scrub canyons an hour northwest of downtown L.A. were home to mountain lions, coyotes, and rattlesnakes, maybe even a few dangerous critters with two legs. This area, close enough to L.A. to house plenty of rich and famous, had its share of rundown shacks, hippie vans, and hand-written Keep Out! signs.
The spiritual center looked more like a summer camp that stopped having fun thirty years ago. The main building, a long block structure with a chipped tile roof, sat on a hill surrounded by scrappy bushes, a few bent sycamores, and an ancient white school bus. There was a fire pit circled by felled logs and a half dozen small outbuildings with sagging roofs.
They reached a small hacienda-style house with a red-tiled roof and a large courtyard. North’s executive assistant met them at the door. “Right this way, Mr. Ellis.”
Deal done. Evie tipped an imaginary hat to Jack. Jack managed a half smile.
Brother Gabriel North was a man in need of a shave and a haircut, or maybe he was trying to rock the Jesus look. Despite his ragged appearance, he wore an air of superiority. The pastor held out his hand and asked, “Seeking True North, Brother Ellis?”
Jack shook his hand. “Bearing gifts.” He patted the breast pocket of his jacket where his checkbook extended. “And seeking the truth. I’m hoping you can help my friend here.” He slipped his hand along Evie’s back, the touch warm and firm. “This is Special Agent Evie Jimenez of the FBI’s Special Criminal Investigative Unit.”
The pastor, blinded by Jack’s checkbook, blinked as if noticing her for the first time. He snapped his fingers at their escort. “Brother Jenkins, please show Brother Ellis and his friend out. A good day to you both. God bless.”
Evie gave props to Jack for being a straight shooter. They didn’t have time to waste on this one, plus she had a feeling a man like Brother North knew all about bullshit. “I’m FBI,” she said. “Not ATF, and I’m not interested in the weapons you are stockpiling in the outbuilding on the northeast end of the property.”
Brother North and Brother Jenkins shared a panicked glance. Jack shifted, inching his body in front of hers.
Evie none-too-gently nudged Jack aside with her shoulder. “You can talk to me now, Brother North,” she continued. “Or I can come back later and bring one of my good friends who does happen to own one of those snazzy blue ATF jackets.” She paused, taking time to read the Ten Commandments, which were emblazoned on the wall behind North’s desk.
The pastor’s shoulders stiffened, and he sucked in a sharp breath through flared nostrils.
Bull’s-eye. Evie took out her phone.
With pinched lips, Brother North invited them to sit at a group of chairs before an unlit fireplace. “What is it you need, Agent Jimenez?”
“I need you to tell me why you threatened to blow up the Beauty Through the Ages art exhibit.”
“That’s not art but the devil’s work, and we were within our First Amendment rights to stage that protest. It was a peaceable assembly.”
“There was nothing peaceable about the note you sent to Jack Elliott threatening to set fire to his art collection.”
A light fired in the preacher’s eyes. “God’s words are so much more powerful than man’s. The Lord wanted to be heard; I was merely His vessel.”
“Yes, you certainly got our attention.” Evie needed to keep this guy talking. North took issue with the content, had a mission downtown, and didn’t shy away from explosives. “So why protest this particular collection?”
“It’s pornography, degrading to women, poison to men, and detrimental to families.”
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“Why the gun?” Evie asked their escort. She’d seen the bulge under his jacket the minute he met them at the front gate of the fenced compound.
“Lots of undesirable critters in the canyons,” the escort said.
These grassy hills and scrub canyons an hour northwest of downtown L.A. were home to mountain lions, coyotes, and rattlesnakes, maybe even a few dangerous critters with two legs. This area, close enough to L.A. to house plenty of rich and famous, had its share of rundown shacks, hippie vans, and hand-written Keep Out! signs.
The spiritual center looked more like a summer camp that stopped having fun thirty years ago. The main building, a long block structure with a chipped tile roof, sat on a hill surrounded by scrappy bushes, a few bent sycamores, and an ancient white school bus. There was a fire pit circled by felled logs and a half dozen small outbuildings with sagging roofs.
They reached a small hacienda-style house with a red-tiled roof and a large courtyard. North’s executive assistant met them at the door. “Right this way, Mr. Ellis.”
Deal done. Evie tipped an imaginary hat to Jack. Jack managed a half smile.
Brother Gabriel North was a man in need of a shave and a haircut, or maybe he was trying to rock the Jesus look. Despite his ragged appearance, he wore an air of superiority. The pastor held out his hand and asked, “Seeking True North, Brother Ellis?”
Jack shook his hand. “Bearing gifts.” He patted the breast pocket of his jacket where his checkbook extended. “And seeking the truth. I’m hoping you can help my friend here.” He slipped his hand along Evie’s back, the touch warm and firm. “This is Special Agent Evie Jimenez of the FBI’s Special Criminal Investigative Unit.”
The pastor, blinded by Jack’s checkbook, blinked as if noticing her for the first time. He snapped his fingers at their escort. “Brother Jenkins, please show Brother Ellis and his friend out. A good day to you both. God bless.”
Evie gave props to Jack for being a straight shooter. They didn’t have time to waste on this one, plus she had a feeling a man like Brother North knew all about bullshit. “I’m FBI,” she said. “Not ATF, and I’m not interested in the weapons you are stockpiling in the outbuilding on the northeast end of the property.”
Brother North and Brother Jenkins shared a panicked glance. Jack shifted, inching his body in front of hers.
Evie none-too-gently nudged Jack aside with her shoulder. “You can talk to me now, Brother North,” she continued. “Or I can come back later and bring one of my good friends who does happen to own one of those snazzy blue ATF jackets.” She paused, taking time to read the Ten Commandments, which were emblazoned on the wall behind North’s desk.
The pastor’s shoulders stiffened, and he sucked in a sharp breath through flared nostrils.
Bull’s-eye. Evie took out her phone.
With pinched lips, Brother North invited them to sit at a group of chairs before an unlit fireplace. “What is it you need, Agent Jimenez?”
“I need you to tell me why you threatened to blow up the Beauty Through the Ages art exhibit.”
“That’s not art but the devil’s work, and we were within our First Amendment rights to stage that protest. It was a peaceable assembly.”
“There was nothing peaceable about the note you sent to Jack Elliott threatening to set fire to his art collection.”
A light fired in the preacher’s eyes. “God’s words are so much more powerful than man’s. The Lord wanted to be heard; I was merely His vessel.”
“Yes, you certainly got our attention.” Evie needed to keep this guy talking. North took issue with the content, had a mission downtown, and didn’t shy away from explosives. “So why protest this particular collection?”
“It’s pornography, degrading to women, poison to men, and detrimental to families.”
Next to
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