“I feel like I could use a sledge hammer to the head.”
“Your own?”
“Mine or someone else’s. I’m not picky. Either way, I think it’d make me start feeling better.”
Hannah tossed her curly brown locks behind her shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry about Emily. I know that must be hard on you, especially with everything else you’re going through.”
“Thanks,” Palmer muttered.
“If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”
Palmer looked up just in time to catch her wink. She stood up and headed back toward the building. Then she stopped.
“By the way, if you’re looking for some answers, you might want to stop by quality control and sit with the boys for a while. The gossip is really flowing today.”
He nodded and sighed. “I’m not interested in gossip.”
“Oh, you might be today. Cheers.”
Palmer finished eating his sandwich and then walked down the hill to the building. Gossip. I could care less about other people’s business. Then he walked past the production quality room where the door was wide open.
“Palmer! Get back here!” yelled Tubby Moore.
Palmer stopped and inched backward until he reached the doorway. “Did you call, Tubby?”
“Sure did. I wanna know why your sorry butt doesn’t ever come to The Gentleman’s Club.”
Palmer cocked his head. “The Gentleman’s Club?”
“Owww!” Tubby said. “Don’t step on my foot, you stupid drunk. Anyway, as I was sayin’, why don’t you join us sometime?”
“I’m not quite sure I know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Awww, come on, Palmer. Don’t play dumb with me. I know your wife’s sick. It’s all right. You’re allowed to go out every once in a while and have a good time.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Dang it, Billy, if you step on my foot one more time, I’m gonna slap you into next week.”
Billy Hawthorne leaned in and whispered something to Tubby.
“I know you have to be invited—that’s why I’m invitin’ him, you ding dong.” Then to Palmer, “So, whad’ya say?”
“Okay. Maybe.”
“Maybe’s not good enough. I wanna see you there tomorrow night. No excuses. You understand me?”
“I’ll do my best,” Palmer said.
“Good. We’ll have a special orientation for ya.”
“Can’t wait.” Palmer put his head down and walked off, rolling his eyes as he went.
“I’ll leave directions on your desk, Palmer. Tomorrow night. Be there,” Tubby shouted into the hallway.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Palmer turned the corner and nearly ran over Hannah.
“So, did you make it down there yet and catch some of that gossip?”
He shook his head. “No, but I did get invited to The Gentleman’s Club, whatever that is.”
She drew back and looked at him incredulously. “You’ve lived here how long and you’ve never heard of The Gentleman’s Club? Even I’ve heard of that.”
Palmer played dumb. “So, what is this club?”
“I have no idea, but I know nothing good goes on there.”
“Doesn’t sound like some place I want to go. Have a good rest of your day.” He slid past her and walked back to the production floor.
Sounds exactly like the kind of place I want to go.
CHAPTER 13
JOSH HOOD PULLED HIS JERSEY over his head and smoothed it out. He stared down at the number emblazoned on the front: 23. The number immortalized by Michael Jordan was always either a nod to an athlete’s superior skills or an arrogant commentary. For Josh, it was both.
At least I never got cut from my junior varsity team.
Yet only a few hours earlier he was nearly dismissed from his varsity team for the accusations swirling around him. If not for his uncle’s last-minute demand that he be reinstated, Josh would’ve been watching from the stands—and likely watching his team lose. After all, it was his team. And if he wasn’t a part of it, he knew it would fail.
“You ready for what you’re about to walk into out there?” Coach Jackson asked his star player.
Josh nodded. “Ready to give ‘em a show.”
“Just don’t let them get under your skin. Scott County’s no joke. Their fans are going to give it to you all night—just like their players. Keep your cool, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, coach.”
Josh stood up and grabbed a basketball off the rack in the corner of the room. “All right, men. It’s time to show these ladies how to play.” Several testosterone-laden shouts filled the locker room and spilled out the door as Josh pushed it open to reveal a packed house. “It’s our time. Let’s do this.”
However, Josh didn’t see the throng of reporters standing just outside the tunnel leading to the court. The moment he cleared the tunnel, flashbulbs went off and a handful of reporters tried to shove microphones in his face. He brushed them aside and turned his back to them as he let the rest of the team run onto the court unimpeded.
“Josh, is it true that Kentucky’s pulled their scholarship offer?”
“Are you under investigation for murder by the FBI?”
He turned and sneered at the reporters. He didn’t realize how guilty his death stare would appear in the next morning’s papers. Nor did he consider that his best option might be to keep his mouth shut.
“Go to hell,” he said as he walked off. He glanced over at the bench in time to see Coach Jackson shake his head and bury it in his hands.
***
DESPITE THE DISTRACTIONS, Josh found solace on the court. He didn’t ignore everything Coach Jackson told him, channeling his anger over the taunts and chants from the Scott County fans into determination. It wasn’t easy.
“Josh Belongs in da Hood” and “Make Kentucky Hood Free” were only a couple of the messages Scott County students had plastered to poster boards. The more they shook them at Josh, the more focused he became.
He helped Millersville build an eight-point halftime lead. Then, with Millersville leading by ten points early in the fourth quarter, he got fouled hard as he drove the basketball for a layup. He bounced up and blew the Scott County fans a kiss.
But as he spun around to look at the hometown fans, he noticed something odd. It was his girlfriend, Shelly Blankenship—and Jeremy Lee had his arm around her.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
He made the first free throw and then glanced back up into the stands again to see if his eyes had deceived him. They hadn’t, only this time Jeremy locked eyes with him. And he kissed Shelly on the top of the head. It was the only thing that broke Josh’s concentration. He clanked the next shot off the front of the rim.
He lost his focus and Scott County began to chip away at Millersville’s lead. Before he knew it, Millersville was clinging to a one-point lead with a minute remaining. Everything was throwing Josh off. The chants, the signs, his girlfriend in the stands with Jeremy Lee, of all people.
When one of his shots bounded off the front of the rim and headed for the stands, he dove after the ball in an attempt to save it to one of his teammates. Instead, he couldn’t get a hand on it and landed in the lap of none other than Cal Murphy.
Cal helped him up, but the moment Josh realized who it was helping him, he drew back before lunging at Cal and taking a swing at him, connecting with a right cross to his jaw. Cal tried to defend himself as Josh made another run at him. Before Josh could land another good punch, one of the officials restrained him and was promptly joined by Coach Jackson.
“Settle down, son. We’ve still got a basketball game to play.”
Cal immediately stood up with Kelly and exited the building to a chorus of boos.
“That’s right—get outta here,” Josh yelled at them. “And don’t come back.”
***
BACK AT THE HOTEL, Cal bristled at Kelly’s babying of the shiner now prominent on his upper le
ft cheekbone. “That big bad high school kid really did a number on you,” she said as she applied a makeshift ice pack on his face.
“He landed one punch. It’s not like I couldn’t have taken him.”
“Oh, Cal, stop being silly. That guy is a beast. You weren’t going to hit him no matter how much you wanted to.” Then under her breath, “Not that he would’ve felt it.”
“I’m right here, Kelly. I heard that.”
She laughed. “Don’t be so insecure. I’m only teasing, you know.”
“Well, it’s not funny. Quite honestly, I don’t want to get on Josh Hood’s bad side. If what we think about him is true, he’s a killer. And you never want to make a killer angry, do you?”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
Cal’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Kelly picked it up and looked at it. “And you don’t want to make your editor angry either.”
“My editor?” Cal took the phone from her. “Great. This is all I need.”
“Gatlin,” Cal answered. “How are you?”
“I think the real question is how are you after getting into a fight with a star basketball recruit?”
“What? How do you know about that? That just happened less than an hour ago.”
“I saw it on SportsCenter.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Yes, but I did see it on Twitter. And if I were a betting man, I’d say you’ll make the early morning edition of SportsCenter, if not the eleven o’clock edition tonight.”
“Which reminds me—what are you doing calling me again? I’m on furlough, remember?”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten, but you seem to be finding more trouble than I can keep up with while you’re away from the office.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing.”
“Not wrong—but it’s certainly not right. Getting into fights with your story subjects? That’s not the kind of professionalism, or lack of it, that we expect from our reporters. What’s gotten into you, Cal?”
“Nothing. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of some strange happenings going on in this little town—and I keep running into dead ends.”
“Maybe you should stop looking so hard.”
“It’s who I am. You ought to know that about me by now.”
“I do know it, but I don’t have to like it all the time.”
“So, is this a social call or what?”
“No, I’m calling to tell you that once your furlough is over, you’ve been suspended while we place you under personnel review.”
Cal protested. “I didn’t do anything to provoke that kid tonight—”
“It’s not about tonight,” Gatlin interrupted. “It’s about this past week and how you’ve directly defied orders from the top. And to be honest, this story isn’t worth it. I mean, maybe you’ve got something there, but it’s not worth throwing away your whole career.”
“My career? Are you serious? I’m going to throw away my career for following leads and asking the right questions—and having the courage to stand up to Wilfred Lee and his stranglehold on this town? I doubt that.”
“Just be careful. Wilfred Lee is more powerful than you realize. Just because he’s holed up in a rinky-dink town in a Kentucky holler doesn’t mean he doesn’t have influence.”
“Like what?”
“Like he’s one of the biggest advertisers at several of the largest newspapers in the South. Don’t kid yourself—he’s got plenty of clout.”
“Fine. I’ll tread lightly.”
Gatlin sighed. “I’d rather you not tread at all, if you know what I mean. Let the Feds handle this case.”
“This one’s personal. They murdered a friend of Kelly’s family to keep him quiet about what really went down that night. And I’m gonna find out why.”
“Well, at least you know what you’re getting yourself into. Good luck and promise me you won’t get into any more fights.”
“Promise. Later.”
Cal hung up and slumped back onto the bed.
“What is it, Cal?”
“I’m suspended.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Gatlin said—”
There was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Kelly asked. “Did you tell anyone we were staying here?”
Cal shook his head. He got up. “Stand back. Who knows what kind of whacko could be at our door.”
“Who is it?” Cal asked through the door.
“It’s Mrs. Riggins. I wanted to speak to Cal Murphy.”
Cal unlocked the door and opened it just enough so he could make sure it was indeed Billy Riggins’ mother—and not one of Wilfred Lee’s henchmen. Seems harmless enough. He opened the door all the way. “Would you like to come in?”
“I don’t want to take up much of your time, but I wanted to stop by and thank you for what you’re doing.”
Cal glanced at Kelly before speaking. “What do you think I’m doing, Mrs. Riggins?”
“Finding out who killed Billy—or am I wrong about that?”
Cal nodded. “That’s what I’m doing, with the help of some others, of course.”
She reached up and patted him firmly on his right arm. “Well, I want you to know I appreciate it. It’s been tough since he died, wondering if what happened to him was really an accident. It’s just not like him. I told Sheriff Wilson that, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. I tried calling a few other places like the FBI, but nobody’s gonna take a little old lady like me seriously.”
“We’re going to do our best to find out who did this to your son.” Cal paused. “I know it won’t bring him back, but I hope it brings you the closure you need.”
“I just wanna know why. Billy was such a good kid and never did anything to cross anyone in this town. But now—now, I’m not so sure. It’s just something I need to know. So, keep up the good work.”
“We will, Mrs. Riggins. Have a good night.”
Cal closed the door and locked it again. Then he looked at Kelly. “If anything, we need to find out why this happened to Billy, for his mother’s sake.”
Kelly forced a smile and grabbed Cal’s arm. “We will, honey.”
They both heard some rustling of papers behind them and spun around in time to see a folder sliding into their room from underneath the door.
“What is this?” Cal said as he picked it up. He opened it up and closed it as quickly as possible, his face yielding a surprised expression.
“What? Let me see that,” Kelly said as she tried to snatch it from his hands. He reluctantly released the folder. “What is this?”
“Someone’s attempt at blackmail.”
CHAPTER 14
CAL PULLED OPEN the hotel room drapes on Thursday morning to reveal an overcast sky. He watched the flag at the post office across the street thrashed back and forth. Crisp golden leaves raced along the ground, propelled by prolonged gusts of wind.
“What’s it look like out there today?” Kelly asked as she stretched.
“Cold and dark.”
“I meant the weather.”
Cal laughed. “So did I—but I can see how you might think I was talking about something else.” He lingered at the window, his back to Kelly. “You ready for today?”
“As ready as I can be when I’m about to watch my husband walk into the lion’s den.”
He shook his head and turned around to face her. “No need to be overly dramatic.”
“I’m not. This Wilfred Lee guy scares me. Tons of money and power—and used to getting his way. You might as well be pounding a hornets’ nest with your fist.”
“Oh, Kelly—”
“I’m serious. We don’t know what he’ll do. Better not take this guy lightly.”
“I’ll be careful—and I hope you will, too.”
She smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulders. “Have I ever let you down before?”
***
CAL PREFERRED TO INVESTIGATE most case
s alone. The less disruption, the better. But this wasn’t like most cases. If Cal was going to uncover anything, he needed Tom Corliss. Not that he minded helping a friend out. Ultimately, Cal concluded if he was ever going to gain the kind of access he needed to dig up dirt on Lee at Lee Creek Distilleries by himself, he’d have to break several laws—and that wasn’t an option, not in this town especially.
“You ready?” Corliss asked Cal outside the entrance to Lee Creek Distilleries.
“Are you?” Cal answered.
Corliss nodded. “Is Kelly in place?”
Cal nodded. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine.”
Both men strode into the lobby and alerted the receptionist at the front desk that they had a 9:30 appointment to see Mr. Lee. Several minutes later, two security guards escorted Cal and Corliss onto an elevator to take them to the sixth floor. The office stretched about a hundred feet, equivalent to the width of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows yielded a 180-degree view of the property.
Upon Corliss and Cal’s entry, Lee spun around in his chair. Less than a second elapsed before his face dropped.
Corliss introduced himself and shook Lee’s hand before their exchange grew tense.
“What’s he doing here?” Lee said, fingering Cal as he glared at Corliss.
“Mr. Murphy is here with me as a consultant,” Corliss said. “Some of his background work on this case has been vital for us in getting to the bottom of what went on here the night that Emily Palmer died. I decided to utilize his services during our preliminary investigation. Do you have a problem with that?”
Lee paused and stared at Cal. “Not as long as everything I say here this morning is off the record. I don’t even want to give this scumbag reporter a chance to twist my words.”
“Let’s remain calm, Mr. Lee. Nobody is accusing you of doing anything wrong at this point. We just want to investigate the claims that there are a couple of deaths around these parts that weren’t exactly accidents.”
Lee leaned on his cane to stand up. He limped around his desk until he faced the men directly. “I still don’t understand what I have to do with any of this.”
Corliss didn’t blink. “You’ve got a girl who suspiciously died on your property. Then, the coroner who was looking into the cause of that girl’s death ended up drowning in a pond in the Daniel Boone National Forest adjacent to several acres you own. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to start to put together some kind of picture. And if I were you, I’d be a little bit concerned about some killer running loose on your land.”
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