The Guilty - Jason Pinter [104]
"Mark Rheingold," Jack said. His eyes had strayed from
me, rolled back into his head, combing his memory. I stopped
talking. Jack knew something, heard something. Now I
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wanted him to stay. "Rheingold...Pastor, right? Had that bigass congregation down in Texas?"
"Houston," I said. "That's right."
"What house are you talking about? Is this Roberts related
to William Henry?"
"A ranch belonging to his parents," I said, "caught fire about
four years ago. The mother, father and sister were all killed,
along with Mark Rheingold. The sheriff claims William Roberts
also died, but I just spoke to the justice of the peace in Hamilton
and after some prodding he admitted William's remains were
never found. They buried a coffin with no body. So what I'm
trying to figure out is why Rheingold was there in the first
place."
"Rheingold," Jack said, "guy was making boatloads of cash,
gave about ninety percent of it to the church and various charities. Wife was a hottie, too, but that's beside the point. Big rumor
was that Rheingold was taking kickbacks from his parishioners."
"Why would he take kickbacks if he was making so
much money?"
"Henry," Jack said, shaking his head. "Kickbacks aren't
always about money. Sometimes you can get back things that
have no monetary value."
I thought for a moment. "You're saying he was sleeping
with members of his congregation."
"I'm saying a lot of people thought he was, but there was
never any proof to back it up. The women would never tell
because they were 'laying closer to God' or some bull, and
their husbands kept their mouths shut because either they
felt the same way, or didn't want the world to know their
wives were better satisfied by a man who's a servant of the
Lord."
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"So you think Rheingold might have been doing the
humpty Jesus dance with Meryl Roberts?"
"I don't keep a list in my pocket of all the church honeys
Rheingold might have bedded, but you put two and two
together chances are it's gonna add up to four."
"Unless one of those variables doesn't equal two."
"I was never very good at physics."
"That's math."
"I was an English major," Jack said.
"Me, too."
Jack laughed. "No wonder you work here." His smile died
with the conversation. "Give Mya's family my best. I hope
she pulls through."
I nodded thanks, and Jack walked away.
As soon as he left, I pulled up a LexisNexis search for "Mark
Rheingold" and "Meryl Roberts." It came back with four hits.
The first was an article in the Hico News about the second
annual Texas Steak Cookoff, sponsored by the Hico High
football team, featuring a special appearance by none other than
Pastor Mark Rheingold. Meryl Roberts, whose daughter
Martha was captain of the Hico girls' soccer team, was quoted
as saying, "Hico is proud to welcome Pastor Rheingold. We
know his presence will foster faith and support for our wonderful community, and lead these boys to the state championship."
The second and third articles celebrated the $7,000 raised
by the event to help defray the cost of new football uniforms
for the Hico Marauders. Leftover donations went toward purchasing new textbooks, as the school hadn't bought new ones
in nearly a decade. The article ran next to a photo of Hico
quarterback John Runyan. He wasn't holding a textbook, but
his uniform looked spiffy.
The fourth article was about Pastor Rheingold's return to
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Hico after a six-month absence, in which he'd been touring
around the country, speaking in auditoriums holding as many
as ninety thousand worshippers. A church spokesman called
it Rheingold's "God-appalooza" tour. He spoke at Madison
Square Garden. The Staples Center. The freaking Rose Bowl.
The piece ran concurrent to a photograph of Rheingold
being swarmed by a crowd of fans and supporters as he
walked down main street in Hico.
In the photo, dozens of hands were reaching for him, but his
eyes and embrace were focused on one woman in particular.
Her hair was wavy and recently permed, her eyes sparkling,
the cut