The Heroes

The Lobby Bar Stephanie Marlow walked into the bar at the Nashville Sheraton and saw a woman loudly sobbing at the counter. She immediately walked over to investigate. A new problem to solve. As the others assembled at tables, she saw the bartender holding up his hands, shaking his head. He mouthed the words No idea. “Do you need help?” Stephanie asked. “I need a miracle,” the lady replied. “What kind?” “A big one.” The lady took a long, deep breath. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, stroked her silver hair back from her face, and sighed. “My mother has terminal breast cancer. She lives with me. I’m her only means of support. The treatment she needs is immunotherapy, which costs half a million dollars and isn’t paid for by Medicare. I work for the Visiting Nurses of Nashville and am taking on as many patients as I can. I need a miracle.” Martha and Monica came over from a group at a nearby table and stood next to Stephanie. They all looked at the flat screen above the bar. Reverend Mike Tillotson, a handsome, gray-haired white male, stood with his eyes closed tightly. He asked for a financial windfall for his ministry and all his faithful viewers. “Who’s he?” Stephanie asked. “That’s Reverend Mike. I work with some girls who say he’s real good. He’s got two million Twitter followers. He tapes his show here in Nashville,” the crying lady said. Martha shook her head in disbelief as the Miracle Hotline phone number came on the screen. Viewers were also encouraged to go to RevMike.org to pledge. Monica placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Sweetie, we will tell our friends here to pray for you. By the way, what is your name?” “Thank you. Estelle Grey.” Martha, Monica, and Stephanie walked back to the tables to rejoin the group they’d just met in the lobby—ten people from all over the United States. Stephanie was seething inside. That guy on TV was just like the huckster at the megachurch that she’d gone to once near Seattle. This needs fixing, she thought. It was something Stephanie excelled at. Danny Delgado shuffled some chairs together so these ten people could sit together. Danny’s police instincts took over. He approached Monica Corso. “What’s with the crying lady?” “She’s in an awful big jam. Her mom’s got cancer and needs a treatment that her insurance won’t pay for. Working too hard. Hoping for a miracle from that guy on TV.” “Oh great. I saw a bunch of hucksters like that in Chicago. They prey on the weakest folks and steal their life savings.” Danny fumed. The hair on the back of his neck rose. “Even when our vice squad had the goods on the perps, sometimes people would be afraid to testify.” Eric Mattison spoke up. “Yeah, I’ve been a counselor in West Texas for twenty years. I’ve seen religious predators take advantage of vulnerable people over and over, draining their bank accounts and pushing hurting people away from God. There’s gotta be a real hot place in Hades for those guys.” Stephanie stood up and addressed the group. The wheels were turning. “Why don’t we process what we’ve just seen and meet over breakfast to plan our day off?”   A Day Off On Thursday morning, the group shuffled down to breakfast. They had been flown to Nashville from five different locations by MLCN—the More Like Christ Network—to receive Faith Hero Awards, which came with cash prizes; they were slated to be on a live broadcast Saturday evening. Friday was for training. Today was an “explore Nashville” day off. Stephanie got her yogurt and fruit and sat down. She wore her hair short, a sassy blonde cut that easily fit under her chef’s hat at the restaurant that she owned and operated. She was wearing her skinny jeans that she still could squeeze in to. A light black sweater was the perfect top for a day of sightseeing. But she was already thinking of organizing a sting, like the voter-fraud bust she was part of in Seattle. Danny rubbed his eyes, still trying to wake up. The bags under them were always bigger in the morning. After filling his plate with pancakes and sausages, he sat next to his son, Mikey. Eric joined them. Stephanie moved to their table. “I can’t believe that huckster on the religious show,” Danny said. “That Rev Mike fool. I wish there was some way to bring him down, kinda like Mikey and I did with that dirty strength-coach back home near Chicago. That took some intel from the IRS, though.” Stephanie stirred her yogurt slowly as she spoke. “I was thinking that way too. When Shelly and I did that voter-fraud bust in Seattle, it took some connection with the FBI to pull it off. Maybe if I called my friend, Nathan …” Eric leaned his head back, stroked his reddish beard, and blurted out, “Wait a minute. Are we talking about doing a sting? Because if we are, I’m in! I’ve always wanted to trap one of those TV weasels. I’ve wanted to do a show that exposed them. I took some communication classes back in Midland.” Danny chewed on the idea along with his pancakes. The rest of the group sat at the next table. Monica sipped her coffee next to Martha. She left her red lipstick, which she had overapplied, on the cup. “I’d like to do some sightseeing today. I don’t get out of Queens much.” “Me too,” Martha said. “And I wanna go shopping.” “Let’s go together,” Monica said, and Martha nodded. “Could I just finish my breakfast first?” mumbled Luther, the janitor from Oklahoma. Stephanie sipped her coffee as the group was starting to gel. “I was wanting to see the Grand Ole Opry and maybe ride one of those trolleys that hits all the touristy spots,” Cody, the roughneck from West Texas, said while brushing his hair back like Brad Pitt. Stephanie noticed that Shelly, her “sponsoree” from Seattle, had been glancing and staring at Cody. “Oh, that sounds good,” Shelly said. Kim, the Korean minister, and Uber driver from New York, said, “I agree that it would be good to expose this guy. The Bible talks about the harm false prophets can do to the faithful. But how could this work, time wise? I guess we could use some of our prize money on extra expenses.” Stephanie sensed the group was starting to break up. She stood and spoke. “It seems that we’re all leaning toward doing something about this Reverend Mike guy, but we still want to enjoy this trip first. Why don’t we have our fun day out and then meet back here for dinner? First, can I see a show of hands of those interested in doing some sort of sting, where we expose this weasel—that is, as long as we can work out the schedule details?” Each one of the group raised a hand. Stephanie nodded. “OK, I’ll call Nathan to see what the FBI can dig up on this guy. Danny, can you call your friend at the IRS to see if he hasn’t paid his taxes?” Danny had his last bite of pancakes in his mouth and said, “Sure, I’ll call my contact Ricardo while Mikey and I are at the ball game we’re going to.” “Great. Let’s compare notes tonight over dinner,” Stephanie said. The group broke up and headed out. She’d done it again, taking over a meeting and taking charge without anyone asking her to. So natural. It was something she’d done her whole life. In fact, something she was driven to do.