after a bigger fish: televangelist Robert Tilton, whose Success-N-Life show had aired on more than two hundred US television markets. Tilton wrote inspirational bestsellers like The Power to Create Wealth and How to Be Rich and Have Everything You Ever Wanted.
But it was his TV show that brought him national fame. His shows were part revival and part infomercial, with a message built on money. Tilton told viewers that donating to his church was an investment that would pay off in answered prayers and financial success. Tens of thousands of followers mailed Tilton heartfelt prayer requests along with cash, checks, and gifts, certain that miracles would follow. Tilton’s ministry flourished.
Anthony had long suspected that Tilton was fleecing his flock. In 1991, Trinity Foundation opened an investigation. They covertly attended services and combed through dumpsters at the mail depot in Tulsa, where Tilton’s prayer requests were processed.
Investigators learned Tilton’s staff had stripped valuables, checks, and cash from the envelopes, and dumped the prayer requests without opening them. Anthony shared his findings with ABC News’s Primetime Live.
The broadcast triggered federal and state fraud investigations and Tilton’s empire tottered. But the case wasn’t over. Trinity learned that Tilton had ties to a secretive North Carolina church called Word of Faith Fellowship.
When Anthony asked Evans if he’d go undercover to investigate, Evans jumped at the chance.
Evans knew all about Tilton. One of the televangelist’s former followers had filed a civil suit against the ministry, and Evans had been sitting in on the fraud trial. He was pretending to be a transient from Texas who was looking for better odds in North Carolina. Holloway, his contact and driver, was staying in Asheville, North Carolina, about an hour west of Spindale. Holloway was Evans’s “emergency exit” if things went sideways.
During the thousand-mile drive from Dallas, they’d gone over every detail of how they’d infiltrate the church. Evans would introduce himself as John, his real name. (Pete was a childhood nickname that stuck. If anyone asked for his identification, it would prove he wasn’t lying about his identity.) The main question they wanted answered: Was Tilton attending the church? If so, what was his role? And did other members of Tilton’s congregation follow him to North Carolina?
Evans knew the investigation went beyond Tilton. He was going undercover to scrutinize Word of Faith Fellowship. The Trinity Foundation had received several reports that the church, led by a middle-aged cultlike leader named Jane Whaley, abused its congregants.
But right then, he needed a place to make camp. He’d been an Eagle Scout, so he knew exactly what to do. He found a flat spot, cleared away sticks and stones, and pitched his tent. He asked an old man at a nearby house if he’d be OK there and got the all clear.
The Word of Faith Fellowship compound was less than a half mile away. He’d studied maps of the property, and already knew the shortest route to the front gate.
Getting inside would be the next puzzle. Evans couldn’t walk into a service unannounced or knock on the door of the pastor’s study and ask for help. This was no ordinary American church. He’d have to be invited in.
Every morning Evans rode his bicycle to the local service station and washed up in the restroom. In town, he approached as many people as possible with his hard-luck story, and a mechanic offered him work and a place to stay on his property. After three weeks in Spindale, Evans finally met some Word of Faith Fellowship members, owners of a local diner. Evans told them how his faith kept him strong even through trying times. How he had been unemployed and had to leave behind his hometown and family to find work.
The couple was impressed. To them, Evans was a decent Christian guy trying to live through a bad patch—a perfect candidate for the church. They invited Evans to a Sunday service, and he quickly accepted. He called Holloway to tell him the news.
That Sunday, as Evans dressed for church, he once again rehearsed his cover story. No slipups. And when he was ready, he jumped on his bicycle and headed down Old Flynn Road. As he pedaled up the drive into Word of Faith’s neatly manicured campus, he felt out of place. The men and women were dressed up like they were going to a White House dinner. Evans was wearing blue jeans, sneakers, an old pullover shirt, and a windbreaker. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t there to