Detective Jesus #1

Crackling with more pulse-pounding adrenaline-fueled action than the first two testaments combined!!

In the New Testament, he called himself the good shepherd, but now he's back and Heaven help the wolves who prey on his sheep. When an alderman's daughter is murdered, Jesus has to take on city hall to get her justice with only a by the book lieutenant descended from Pilate himself and a tough as nails lady partner in his corner. He's a detective for a new generation--part Serpico, part Bullitt and all divine.

Excerpt:

"You know Clarence," I said dancing away from a clumsy roundhouse. "There are going to be times when you face an obstacle in your way that you can't just hit straight on, You're a powerful man, but not everything is going to come right at you."

"Truth," said Clarence sending two more jabs harmlessly off my shoulder.

"So when the bell is ringing for the 10th round and you're totally spent, where does the strength come to finish the fight? Where do find that something extra to knock out your foe."

"I dig deep. I always dig deep."

"That's right Clarence," I said. "It comes from deep inside. It's within you. That's where you'll find righteousness and peace."

"I don't want to hit you anymore. You're deep," he said dropping his arms.

This was opportunity I had been looking for. I hit him with an uppercut to the jaw and knocked him off his feet.

"Holy Crap! Kenny Loggins just knocked out Statue," said the older man.

I went into a neutral corner, while his obnoxious friend climbed into the ring and counted to ten. When Clarence was counted out, I rushed over to help him up just the gym exploded in cheering.

"Hey man," complained Clarence. "I had dropped my guard."

"It all happens so fast," said Healy. "You know how it is."

"Well, I still like what you said, Sandals," said Clarence patting my back with his massive hands still encased in his boxing gloves.

"Get back to work!" yelled Mazilli as cheerful as ever. "You don't pay me so you can stand around gawking."

"He's right," said Healy. "We'll let you all get back to work, but we're investigating a homicide and there was a towel that may have been from this gym found at the crime scene. In the odd chance that somebody here knows something please contact us. I'll leave you a business card."

"I'll put it up in the locker room," said the smart ass who had a whole new respect for me now.

"If you see anybody in the gym who doesn't belong here or anything suspicious just drop us a line."

"Anybody who doesn't belong here? Like you two?" asked a boxer in the back.

"Exactly like us," I said. "We'll take any help we can get."

"We got your back," said Clarence with his deep baritone. "That wasn't a request, it was a promise."

"Thanks," said Healy. "Have a good workout."

"Hey man," said the old guy cheering. "You're not really Kenny Loggins, are you?"

"I am who you say I am," I replied trying to keep things ambiguous.

"I know you're not Kenny Loggins," said the old guy. "Nobody famous comes in here anymore, but you're alright."

"No need to worry about me," I replied smiling as I shook his hand.

"Holy--."