Under Your Skin: A Thriller (A Cal Murphy Thriller)

by J. R. Chartrand

  “Burrs in your saddle?” Cal asked. “What are you talking about? I was just trying to figure out what killed your son. I didn’t realize I would become such a burr in your saddle for doing my job.”

  “All reporters are scum. Your job represents about the most debased profession in our society. Reporters are always burrs in my saddle when they go poking their noses where they shouldn’t.”

  “I’m happily guilty then.”

  “And so am I,” Kelly chimed in as her nostrils flared. She was anxious to engage the real scum.

  “Oh, a feisty one,” Gold said, looking at Kelly. “I always did like you, Kelly. Such a mouth, though. I wonder how well you’ll hold your tongue as you fall to the bottom of the canyon.”

  Gold moved closer toward his intended targets. He reached Cal and grabbed him by his upper arm. Then he looked at Kelly.

  “Want to see a man fly?” Gold asked.

  Kelly glared at him, wisely choosing to hold her tongue.

  Cal decided that remaining silent was to his detriment – and it certainly wasn’t in the plan.

  “So, you think killing us is going to end the threat of you getting arrested and Cloverdale Industries shut down?”

  Gold laughed.

  “Absolutely. After all, I’ve got all your physical evidence. Your word of mouth testimony is weak, but I don’t like taking chances.”

  “You really think that we didn’t make any copies?”

  “Ha! I know you’re bluffing. You’ve watched too many detective shows, Mr. Cub Reporter. There’s no way you had time to get them anywhere else. I destroyed the photos and the photo card myself.”

  “You’ve got a lot of confidence, Gold – it’s going to be your undoing.”

  “And your mouth is going to be yours. Well, that and the fact that you’re in handcuffs and I’m not.”

  Gold pulled out a handgun and pointed it toward Cal.

  Cal knew he was running out of time and it was time for his final attempt to get a confession from Gold.

  “Before you kill me, don’t you want to know, Mayor?” Cal said.

  “Know what?”

  “Know how your son and his two teammates went from being healthy teens one day to dead the next, dead in the most gruesome way?”

  Gold kept his gun aimed at Cal’s head but played along.

  “I hadn’t really cared about the reasons why once I realized my son’s death meant that Statenville and Cloverdale Industries were about to lose everything I had worked to build. Protecting what was left remained the most important thing. I have other family members who are still alive and need consideration.”

  “What if I told you that you could avenge his death today along with killing us right here – a three-in-one deal?”

  “Go on.”

  “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

  “Mercer?”

  “Yep. He’s the one responsible for your son’s death.”

  Mercer bowed up and began protesting. “You’re lying, Cal,” he yelled. “Gold, this kid is just trying to save himself. He’s full of it!”

  “I don’t believe you, Cal,” Gold said.

  Mercer immediately relaxed, but Cal didn’t stop.

  “Oh, you don’t believe me? Well, maybe you should ask Mercer about CPZ. He may have some on him right now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about an FBI program to develop markers to mix into batches of drugs. It leads to a strange itching phenomenon that lands a person in the hospital. The strange phenomenon gets reported back to the CDC and the FBI gathers the information to gain knowledge of a drug operation’s network. That’s what Walker and Mercer were doing in Statenville, helping build a case to take down Cloverdale Industries. And they were gathering enough evidence to put you away forever.”

  “But Mercer is in my pocket. I’ve been around long enough to know how to spot a federal agent when I see one – and also how to identify who can be bought. Mercer worked out great – and he has brought you two to me.”

  “Yeah, but that still doesn’t change the fact that he killed your son when he inserted those chemicals into the drugs your son took. He was trying to help you. I guess your son was just collateral damage – an unintended consequence.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it was unintended. It was most unfortunate, but I know Mercer was trying to help me.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure your son would’ve appreciated knowing you thought his life was just collateral damage as he clawed himself to death.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You really don’t know, do you? How your son died? You’re not the least bit curious?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “When added to meth, CPZ begins working on the liver, forcing bile into the blood stream. When it gets into the blood stream, it creates a powerful itching sensation. Except, the itching can’t be satiated on the surface. The itching is under your skin. Your son scratched himself to death, enduring some of the worst agony in his final few minutes on this earth. All thanks to Mercer here.”

  “Mercer, is this true?”

  “Like you said, Mayor, I was just trying to help protect Cloverdale and throw off the feds. I never meant for your son to get hurt.”

  “Besides, how do you know Mercer is really on your side?” Cal added, confident he had said enough to send Gold into a more passionate rage.

  As Cal predicted, Gold began redirecting his anger toward Mercer. He pointed his gun at Mercer and began walking toward him. Cal shot Kelly a glance as they both watched his display of aggression in awe.

  Mercer slowly walked backward. He was only 10 feet from the edge of the cliff.

  “Hey, now. Come on, Gold. You know it was just an unfortunate coincidence. I never meant for your family to get hurt, much less killed.”

  “You killed my son,” Gold said. Anger and hate had given way to a look of vengeance. “He scratched himself to death. You can’t die much worse than that – except maybe nursing a blown off knee cap as you plummet to your death.”

  And with that, Gold fired two shots, one into each of Mercer’s knees. Mercer screamed as he staggered toward the ground, a mere three feet from the edge of the cliff. But before Mercer could fall flat, Gold rushed him and gave him a shove with his left foot. Already off balance, Mercer staggered backward again until he reached back to find safe ground and came up empty.

  Mercer’s scream was piercing for 10 seconds, filling up the canyon with his pain and final last words.

  Gold watched Mercer writhe in pain on his way down for a few seconds until he was satisfied that survival was impossible. He then returned his attention to Cal.

  “Is that how you did it in Boston – well, except with a gold coin?”

  Gold looked stunned for the first time during this encounter. Cal had hoped for such a stunning reaction earlier when he revealed that Mercer was the one who killed Gold’s son, but it was mild compared to this.

  “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “You heard me. But I’ll ask you again: Is that how you did it in Boston? You know, how you murdered people – ruthlessly, inflicting as much pain as possible?”

  “Wow, I really underestimated you, Cal. I had no idea you were such a thorough reporter. It’s a shame that you’re never going to get that career of yours going.”

  Gold pointed his gun again in Cal’s direction.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that if I were you – because it’ll be the last thing you do. Killing me and Kelly, that is.”

  Gold laughed. “You sure do talk big, Cal. I’ll just have you know that you can chalk up your death to that big mouth of yours.”

  Gold then pointed his gun again at Cal.

  “You might want to rethink what you’re doing, Gold. I mean, you might be wondering where that red dot on your shirt comes from.”

  Gold looked down to see a laser site pointed directly at his heart. He’d be dead in less than 30 seconds after a bu
llet pierced his heart. And he knew it. But he still held the gun on Cal.

  “I would just put the gun down in less than two seconds or else you won’t have a hand any more,” Cal said.

  Gold laughed and ignored Cal. Two seconds later, a sniper’s A3 G bullet nearly separated Gold’s hand from the rest of his body. His handgun fell to the ground.

  “It’s over, Gold. Give it up.”

  It was over. Cal could tell Gold had conceded by the look on his face. But this wasn’t the way Gold wanted to go out, rotting away in prison before getting the death penalty. Endlessly parading into courtrooms wearing shackles and an orange jumpsuit – it wasn’t his style.

  Gold’s hand was gushing blood. He bent over, grabbing his right hand with his left in a worthless attempt to stop the bleeding. “You ruined everything! You were supposed to be under control.”

  “Sheriff Jones couldn’t do the job?” Cal asked, fishing for a confession.

  “Jones isn’t an asset, but he could’ve been a liability had I not included him.”

  Cal smiled. A corruption trifecta – municipal government, local law enforcement and the FBI. This was perfect.

  “I hope you’re happy, Cal – and you too, Kelly. You two have ruined my family’s life. My kids will grow up without a father. Nice work, scumbags.”

  Kelly grinned. Then Cal mocked Gold with a sarcastic laugh, this time at Gold’s inability to reason.

  “Me? Ruined lives? Consider the untold thousands of people you’ve laid waste to – individuals and families. All these drug users and people you’ve thrust into a life of crime – yeah, I’m a scumbag for ruining your family’s life, a family you only started as a cover.”

  Gold grimaced, still trying in vain to stop the gushing blood. “It started out that way, but something changed along the way.”

  “Yeah, it changed all right. You didn’t even mourn the loss of your son. He was merely collateral damage.”

  Gold looked up at Cal and glared. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know you’re going to jail, Gold. It’ll be much safer than me dropping a letter with your whereabouts in the mail to the Scarelli family and letting them take you back to Boston – with the FBI’s blessing, of course.”

  “Like I said, you don’t know anything.”

  With that parting shot, Gold turned and leaped out into the canyon, joining Mercer in the cruelest of deaths.

  Cal and Kelly both sighed in relief.

  “Did you get all this?” Kelly asked, contorting her body to get her hands in a position to pull her iPhone out of her pocket and signal to the FBI sniper situated on top of a ridge. “Now, get down here and take these handcuffs off us.”

  After meeting with Cal and Kelly earlier in the day, the FBI flew a sniper along with a full tactical team to a spot overlooking Gold’s favorite dumping ground at Cold River Canyon. While the FBI suspected that Mercer might be the mole, they decided to discreetly record all the events with Kelly’s iPhone, a device nobody knew she still possessed. The open line also allowed the tactical team to know how to react to the events happening in front of them. Mercer’s motives remained a mystery to the bureau, but it didn’t matter now.

  Had both Gold and Mercer survived, FBI officials knew any admission of guilt by Gold in this situation would likely wilt when held up to the law. But a revealing story written by a news organization could have forced Gold to make a desperate move – and that was when they knew the bureau could catch him. All that guess work, speculation and theory vanished in about ten seconds when Gold killed Mercer – and then it all became moot when Gold leaped himself. No FBI officials were complaining.

  For the second time in less than 24 hours, Cal and Kelly avoided being flung to the bottom of Cold River Canyon.

  CHAPTER 66

  RIDING BACK TO SALT Lake City in a government-issued SUV, Cal finally felt safe. Kelly did, too. Their adventure together over the past three days seemed surreal, something neither would have expected living in Statenville. But this wasn’t just adventure for adventure’s sake – this was about uncovering the truth and finding justice. It was hard work but rewarding work.

  However, one question still remained: Could Cal and Kelly put together a story package with photos and videos that would find its way into print. A story of such depth and magnitude deserved a stage much larger than The Register. Then again, neither Cal nor Kelly knew if they had a job there any more. Not that they could seriously consider working in a town where their investigation ruined almost everyone’s livelihood in a direct or indirect way.

  Cal felt the pressure to deliver.

  Following a debriefing with FBI officials at the Salt Lake City field office, Cal pleaded with them to wait until morning to announce the death of Carmen Deangelo and the bust of Cloverdale Industries. Cal explained that his story would demonize only Mercer, not Walker. After a few minutes of haggling over the details, the FBI relented, considering that Cal had risked his life. It was the least they could do to thank him.

  Nevertheless, Cal was ecstatic, excited about the challenge that awaited him in the coming hours. He and Kelly caught a cab to the The Tribune office and briefed Youngman on what had transpired. It was 6:30 p.m.

  “OK, you’ve got two hours to write an exclusive for us that’s well sourced,” Youngman said.

  “You got it – except for the exclusive part. Seattle is getting this story, too,” Cal said.

  “Anyone else?” Youngman asked.

  “Not as of right now.”

  “Let’s keep it that way. Get my assistant to find you a workstation. And have Kelly meet with the photo chief,” Youngman shouted as he was leaving the office.

  Cal's story that appeared in two newspapers the next day read as follows:

  By Calvin J. Murphy

  For The Tribune

  STATENVILLE, Idaho – FBI officials confirmed the death of long-standing Boston mobster Carmen Deangelo on Wednesday when Deangelo plummeted to his death in Cold River Canyon after murdering an FBI agent.

  Deangelo, who was living under the assumed name of Nathan Gold, had almost vanished before moving to Statenville in 1996. FBI officials claim that Gold established himself as a respectable member of the community before running for mayor eight years ago.

  But Deangelo wasn’t leaving behind his life of crime – he was building a new one.

  In 2001, two years prior to Deangelo being elected as the mayor of Statenville, he founded Cloverdale Industries, a fast-growing, multi-level marketing company that sold mostly vitamins and health products. When Gold assumed the mayor’s office in 2003, the FBI asserts that everything was in place for him to build an extensive distribution network for crystal meth in the Northwest.

  “The death of Carmen Deangelo represents a major victory in the FBI’s war on drugs,” FBI Salt Lake City field office director Skip Donnelly was quoted as saying in a press release Wednesday. “Any time we can scratch a name off the FBI’s most wanted list, it’s a win for the American people. This particular removal of Carmen Deangelo’s name is a bigger victory than anyone could’ve ever imagined.”

  FBI officials claim that Deangelo was the architect behind a vast drug operation that spread as far north as Vancouver, Canada, and east as far as Denver.

  Deangelo stayed off the FBI’s radar for nearly 15 years. Then, in 2005, the FBI was alerted that Deangelo might be returning to his criminal ways after a known drug dealer’s body was found in Portland with Deangelo’s signature mark—-a gold coin from the 1800s stuffed in the victim’s mouth. It was the same signature Deangelo used for most of his alleged murders in Boston.

  The FBI deployed two agents to Statenville to serve in deep cover and build a case against Deangelo and his Cloverdale Industries. The plan went awry beginning Sunday evening when the first of three local high school football stars were found dead in gruesome crime scenes.

  The deaths rocked the quiet southeastern Idaho town. Residents were told that the student-athletes all overdose
d on meth, but local law enforcement officials pressured the coroner’s office to release falsified reports.

  But on Tuesday, an independent examination of evidence by FBI officials found the cause of death to be markers the meth was laced with, not the meth itself. The markers were supposed to induce what appeared like the sudden onset of a rare disease, which would alert the Center for Disease Control and subsequently the FBI. But the marker was never intended to be fatal, according to the FBI. The chemical was a marker that deep cover FBI agents were supposed to insert into random batches of drugs to track how far the operation’s network extended.

  However, a rogue FBI agent undermined those efforts by engineering the additive to have a deadly effect – forcing liver bile into the bloodstream quickly, which led to uncontrollable itching beneath the skin. Already high from using meth, all three victims scratched themselves to death. One of the victims happened to be Riley Gold, Deangelo’s son.

  Nevertheless, Gold and local law enforcement officials didn’t want to attract unwarranted attention to Statenville and chose to dismiss the deaths as coincidence.

  But the case hit a fever pitch on Wednesday when the FBI had an opportunity to illicit a confession out of Deangelo in a covert operation. However, Deangelo chose to take his own life, plummeting into the Cold River Canyon at the southern part of the Idaho wilderness area instead of facing charges. Just moments before, Deangelo had killed FBI agent Elliott Mercer, wounding him with two gunshots before shoving him off a cliff and into the canyon.

  Deangelo was suspected in the murders of more than a dozen people while living in Boston as a captain for the Scarelli family.

  FBI officials have also seized control of Cloverdale Industries and have shut down operations until the bureau completes its investigation of the alleged drug making plant.

  ***

  Cal’s journalistic efforts delighted Youngman, who edited in the details of how the case related to Salt Lake City – the drugs were flowing into the city from Cloverdale Industries. The Seattle newspaper did likewise.

  It made for a compelling lead story on the front page in both cities, strengthened also by Kelly’s compelling photojournalism that captured the images of the people and places involved.