Blood of the Lamb

planned?”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Does she normally come back out and sing at the end?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head.

“Does Nicole usually sing with her?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I was surprised she didn’t that night. That’s why I went into your office while Bunny was singing. You know, to check on her.”

“But while Bunny was still singing, you went back out to begin your altar call,” I said, “so for at least ten minutes she was alone in there.”

“That must be when it happened,” he said, shaking his head.

“How was she when you went in to check on her?”

“I don’t know. She was in the small bathroom in your office. I didn’t even see her. I just assumed that’s why she wasn’t with her mother. When I asked Bunny later, she said that Nicole’s stomach had been bothering her.”

“So you never saw her after she left the stage the first time?” I asked.

“No,” he said softly, looking down, “I didn’t. I wish I had. Wish I could’ve taken her in my arms just one more time before she woke up in the arms of Jesus.”

“Did you talk to her?” I asked. “Through the door.”

He shook his head. “The fan in there was so loud,” he said. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear her, so I just waited for her to come out, but eventually I had to go back out.”

“It would really help if I could talk to your wife.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “She’s a very fragile woman. It’s too soon.”

“Do you know who Nicole’s parents are?” I asked.

He studied me for a very long time, then said, “Before Bunny and I were saved, we were sinners living in the world, committing sins of the flesh. Bunny is Nicole’s mother.… But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “And her father?”

“To be honest,” he said, “we don’t know. And I almost feel it’s better that way. I became her father. And loved her as much as any father ever loved his child.”

It was only through years of discipline and training that I kept from laughing at that.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

“About Bunny?” he asked. “She was pregnant when I married her. It was a test from God. I passed. I accepted her, the way Hosea did Gomer, the way God did Israel, his beloved, even when she played the harlot.”

“Is there a possibility that Nicole’s biological father could’ve been at the service that night?” I asked.

He tried to act surprised, but didn’t pull it off well. “Like I said, we don’t know who he is.”

“But he might’ve been?”

“It’s possible,” he conceded. Then glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got a meeting and then a prayer luncheon to speak at.”

“Just a few more questions, please,” I said. “What exactly does DeAndré Stone do for you?”

“Provides security for and assists Bunny,” he said. “He’s part of our Freeing the Captives program. Sometimes a judge will actually send a troubled young man to us rather than putting him in prison. I have several men on parole and probation working for me-I want prison outreach to be the center of my ministry. God’s given me a heart for them-I am them.”

“Did you know there are a lot of rumors of criminal activity in your organization?”

“No, but it doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “You know how people envy and talk about successful people- especially ministers. Besides, as I said, I employ a lot of ex-offenders and parolees. Not all of them are saved. We’re working with them, but they’re still fallen human beings. I’m sure some of them are still in the life. But it really surprises me that you listen to rumors.”

“Did you know that DeAndré was at the prison this past Monday night?”

“What?” he asked in what appeared to be genuine shock. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I said. “He attacked Nicole’s father and later, after the Larry King show, me and my wife.”

“Did he say why?”

He had flinched when I said ‘Nicole’s father,’ but quickly recovered and apparently wasn’t going to pursue it.

“I figured he was doing it for you,” I said.

“Me?” he asked in even greater shock and I was convinced it was authentic. “Why would I–I invited you here to offer you a position on my staff. I really respect you… but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have anybody attack anybody-I can’t believe you could think such a thing about me.”

Standing, Bobby Earl led me back through the opulent mansion that made me think of a thriving Victorian whorehouse more than anything else.

“He works for you,” I said. “It’s not as if I made an enormous leap.”

“He works for my wife,” he said, “but not any longer-if you’re certain he did these things.”

“I’m certain,” I said. “Did you know that NOPD has an ongoing investigation into you and your organization?”

“I knew the IRS did,” he said. “They hound every major ministry in the country. Are the police helping them?”

Either he was truly out of touch with what was going on in his organization or Bobby Earl Caldwell was a tremendous loss to stage and screen.

I shook my head. “They’re looking into allegations of abuse, extortion, and homicide.”

“Homicide?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you don’t want to join my staff,” he said. “But I can assure you there’s some kind of mistake and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I’ve noticed that a lot of inmates donate significant amounts of money to your ministry,” I said. “Why-”

“Chaplain,” he said in a voice that sounded scolding. “You know good and well most inmates don’t have much money. It is true that some of them make small contributions, but I can assure you that they don’t even cover our expenses when we conduct a crusade.”

“The really large amounts go to a post office box here in-”

“I don’t have a post office box,” he said. “All our mail is delivered directly to the headquarters.”

“Well, I’m telling you an awful lot of money payable to you is leaving our prison addressed to you at a post office box over here.”

He hesitated a moment, his eyes moving around as he thought about it. “I have a very large organization,” he said. “I guess some of our departments may have post office boxes to keep things separate. I’ll check into it. I will, but right now I’ve got to go.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Please consider coming to Nicole’s service,” I said. “I’m sure the media would like to get a statement from you about it.”

“The media’s gonna be there?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, as if I knew, “I think Larry King may even do a follow up show afterwards.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “And you please consider my offer. I can assure you the rumors you’ve heard are not true. You’ll get three times what you’re making now just to attend a few meetings a year and answer the occasional question about prison ministry from time to time. Plus, I’ll give you a signing bonus of say, a hundred K.”

“No,” I said, as he ushered me out the door, “I’m not worth that kind of money.”

“Maybe not, but what you know is,” he said, just before closing the door, and I left wondering if what he thought I knew had anything at all to do with prison ministry.