Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

by Jack Patterson

  “It’s not,” Kelly said. “It looks like crystal meth.”

  Cal attended plenty of wild college parties in his day, but he never stuck around long enough to see any drug usage beyond guys smoking weed. It was the first time he had seen it, much less held enough to guarantee him a 20-year prison sentence if a cop walked in on him now.

  “What is this place, Kelly?”

  “I’ve heard rumors but nobody ever told me anything for sure.”

  “Rumors of what?”

  “Oh, crazy stuff, like what you might hear at a sleepover party.”

  “Like what?!” Cal was growing impatient and nearly let his voice rise above a whisper.

  “OK, OK. I’ve heard a couple of times that Cloverdale Industries produces all these cleaning products and vitamins as a cover for its drug operation.”

  “Drug operation?”

  “Yeah, I haven’t heard much other than that. You know, kids talking in middle school. I never really believed it. I’ve got relatives who work here. They’re not those kind of people.”

  “Well, I’ve got a bottle of crystal meth that says your middle school pajama parties revealed something more than who had a crush on Bobby Jackson.”

  “Bobby Jackson?”

  “Every school has a dreamy Bobby Jackson, right? Oh, forget it. The point is, I’ve got evidence in my hand that this is indeed some type of drug operation. Now, we need you to take a picture to give us some evidence to take back that isn’t going to get me thrown in jail for the most promising years of my career.”

  “You want me to take a picture?”

  “Yes. Just get out your camera. I’ll pour this on the floor and you can take a picture with the bottle.”

  “Cal, that’s not going to prove anything.”

  “Maybe not, but it might be enough to get the feds interested in investigating what’s going on here.”

  Cal turned the light on and Kelly snapped a couple of pictures. Then back to darkness. Cal returned the contents to the bottle and was about to repackage the box when the sound of heavy footsteps began getting closer. This time, it didn’t sound like it was somebody who was going to pass by.

  The footsteps stopped just short of the door. The clinging of what was undoubtedly a large keychain sounded like the chambering of a bullet to Cal and Kelly. They both held their breath. Cal didn’t think it mattered as he was convinced his heartbeat was audible.

  A key slid into the lock. The doorknob turned.

  CHAPTER 37

  ONLY 90 MINUTES UNTIL press time for The Register. Guy paced in his tight office space, trying to digest the news Mindy had just delivered.

  She returned to the office 20 minutes before and gave Guy a full report. It was so thorough and marked with details that he wondered if she might be interested in being a reporter. After all, he was about to have an opening. Her work in gathering information at Cal’s apartment was a full three pay grades above making coffee.

  When Mindy arrived at Cal’s apartment, she found Kelly’s car in the parking lot with two smashed in side windows. Broken glass littered the adjacent empty parking spaces.

  Cal’s front door was wide open. The wood around the door handle splintered in several directions. Even the back door was open. And in between? Chaos.

  Books, newspapers and magazines strewn across the floor. Chairs lying on their side. A smashed TV, likely as a parting gesture of good will. Cabinets were open. Smashed dishes covered the kitchen floor.

  “Cal? Kelly? Are you guys here?” Mindy timidly called, hoping to not hear a sound as she maneuvered through the wreckage. She didn’t.

  She ventured upstairs and saw more of the same. It was as if Cal’s bachelor pad had developed a stomach bug and vomited. At least she hoped the second floor was the work of intruders and not an indication of Cal’s sloppy housekeeping.

  After Mindy swept through the house to ensure there wasn’t a clue for where Cal and Kelly might have gone, she found nothing that made much sense. Only an open shed door and what appeared to be fresh black motorcycle tracks on the neighboring patio. But there was nothing definitively linking the two.

  Guy felt helpless. He wanted to help out his reporters but had no idea what to do. The sheriff’s deputies sure weren’t going to offer any help. And at this point, for all Guy knew, they were the ones who did this to Cal and Kelly. But he had no idea where to start to help. The best thing he could do was stay in his office and get out this week’s edition of The Register. If he lost his job, he might lose his credibility. He would likely be dismissed as a disgruntled employee trying to find a way to get back at his employer. That would all make finding an outlet to run Cal’s story all the more challenging.

  So he sat at his desk and continued editing. And prayed.

  CHAPTER 38

  CAL FELT KELLY’S GRIP tighten on his arms as they both cringed. This was it. No time for bravado. Only an immediate plea for mercy.

  The door swung open and a hand groped the wall for the light switch.

  Click!

  “Cal? Kelly?” asked the whispering voice in bewilderment. “What are you doing in here?”

  They both looked up to see a familiar friendly face: Buddy Walker, the Statenville High boys basketball coach.

  “What are you doing here?” Cal whispered back as he inspected Walker’s blue jumpsuit with his name stitched into his left chest panel.

  Walker stepped inside and shut the door. He hung his head.

  “To be frank, I don’t make enough money at the school, so I’ve been moonlighting as a janitor. It’s terribly embarrassing. Please don’t tell anyone, OK?”

  “Don’t worry, Coach. I won’t tell a soul.”

  “Me either,” piped Kelly.

  “Thanks, guys. That would mean a lot to me. My mother is sick and feeble – and I’m trying to take care of her. It’s not something I can easily do on a teacher’s salary in the middle-of-nowhere Idaho.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Coach. What you’re doing is very noble,” Kelly said.

  Before things turned too mushy, Cal knew they only had a limited amount of time to regroup and focus on escaping the facility without being seen.

  “Look, Coach. We’re in a bit of a predicament and need your help.”

  “What happened to your arm? And again, what are you doing in this closet?” Coach Walker asked, suddenly awakening to the abnormality of the situation.

  “It’s simple: we need to get out of here without anyone seeing us. If I told you everything, you’d think we were crazy. ”

  “Try me.”

  “OK, here it goes. We’re being pursued by some type of secret government agents and we know some powerful people who own this facility want us dead, too. The security guards here have orders to kill us on sight if they see us.”

  Coach Walker stared at Cal and said nothing.

  “I swear it’s true. I couldn’t make this stuff up.”

  Finally, he asked the question Cal hadn’t really pondered.

  “Why do they care about you, Cal? What do you know?”

  “Well, I know enough to gain the interest of some government investigation group.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, this facility is a commercial drug operation that uses its cover as a muti-level marketing company to hide a drug distribution network.”

  “OK, you’re right. I don’t believe you.”

  “Please, Coach Walker. You’ve got to believe me. See, look at this meth I found.”

  Cal showed Walker some of the drugs he had found, which was enough to elicit an eyebrow raise from the coach moonlighting as a janitor.

  “Well, I did see some armed security guards running around, but I’m not ready to believe all your tin hat theories.”

  “Fine. I don’t care if you believe those. I just need your to help us escape.”

  Coach Walker stroked his jaw and appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke.

  “Honestly, I don’t
believe you, but it’s stranger than strange that you’re hiding in the janitor closet and security appears to be heightened at the moment. I’ve got a l5-minute break coming up. I can probably get you to my house that’s five minutes away—and in time for me to get back to work without missing my window to punch back in.”

  Cal wanted to hug Walker, but he figured the pain he would suffer in his arm wouldn’t be worth it.

  “Wait here and I’ll be back in five minutes with a cart for you to hide in. I’ll push you out and then you can get into the backseat of my car. I don’t think you’ll be noticed. I’ve got a blanket you can cover up with once you’re on the floorboard.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Walker flipped the light switch as he exited the closet and locked the door behind him.

  Five minutes later, the squeaky wheel of a large commercial dirty clothes cart could be heard rolling in their direction.

  Walker whispered, “It’s me, guys,” just before he unlocked the door. Then he opened it and moved the cart up to the opening so Cal and Kelly could climb in. They curled up in a fetal position and put their heads down as Walker draped a blanket over them. He wheeled the pair to his silver Subaru Forester and helped them scramble inside. Cal would have preferred the ability to see Kelly’s face during the ride to Walker’s house, especially since he was so close to her. But in a day of near misses and running for his life, Cal would settle for huddling in the darkness beneath a blanket with Kelly.

  Walker’s plan was executed to perfection. He returned the dirty clothes cart to just inside the rollup door at the top of the dock and walked back to the car.

  “Thanks, Coach,” Cal whispered from beneath the blanket. “We really appreciate this. You might have saved our lives.”

  Through the vibrations in the floorboard, Cal felt the gears clicking into place as Walker jammed the stick into reverse.

  “Oh, it’s not a big deal, Cal. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”

  “Of course,” came Cal’s muffled voice from under the blanket.

  ***

  Walker smiled as he shifted his car back into the drive position with his right hand. His left hand fingered his gun.

  Cal and Kelly had eluded him all day. Could it really be this easy?

  CHAPTER 39

  BENEATH THE BLANKET, CAL pulled out his iPhone and quietly began texting Guy. He knew it was risky, but without anyone else to trust in the whole town, he felt like maybe Guy could help him out.

  Look up Coach Walker’s address & meet us there in 1 hr

  Cal looked up at Kelly and smiled. He then typed a short message into a notes program:

  We’re going 2 b ok.

  ***

  Guy’s cell phone vibrated across his desk, alerting him to the arrival of a message. It was Cal.

  Guy was overjoyed at the fact that Cal and Kelly seemed to be alive and OK. But meeting them anywhere in an hour was impossible with press time nearing. He typed off a quick text to Cal and shut his phone.

  His anger had been replaced by relief and joy. Then his mind went to thinking about what this story that was rocking Statenville was really all about. Drugs? Power? Money? Revenge? He hoped Cal had some answers. If Guy was going to leave, he wanted to do it big, just like he had in Salt Lake City when he revealed the bribery of Olympic Committee members that secured the Winter Games for the city. Nothing like lighting a powder keg and walking away.

  Guy had already begun plotting how he would do it this time. All he needed were Cal’s notes.

  His desk phone rang. He knew what it meant: time to start press checking the special insert section. He left his office without answering the phone.

  ***

  With almost every news staff member buried in their work and all the rest of the paper’s marketing, sales and circulation personnel gone for the day, Sammy figured nobody would notice him sneaking into the boss’s office. He was right.

  Sammy looked through Guy’s recent calls list and saw nothing. Then he switched to the list of text messages, opening Cal’s most recent one at the top. He closed the phone and headed to the break room.

  Mr. Gold would not be happy about this, but at least all his problems were gathering in one place.

  CHAPTER 40

  ON THE SHORT RIDE to Walker’s house, Cal kept running through all the scenarios of why a government agency might be interested in keeping word of this drug operation from getting out. Was the government mounting a case against the company? Were there other people involved that he didn’t know about? How many people did know about this operation? Why go all cloak and dagger on him?

  He knew that Sheriff Jones and some of his deputies were at the very least on the take. So, there were some people who seemed highly interested in making sure this information never saw wet ink on printing press. Just how far did this cover up go? Cal’s mind seemed to be stuck in a perpetual eight-figure, unable to advance any ideas in a meaningful way. His head began to hurt trying to hash out all the possibilities.

  At the moment, all he knew was that he was thankful for Walker’s fortuitous timing. Without his intervention, who knows if he and Kelly would’ve ever made it out of Cloverdale Industries alive. He didn’t want to think about the grim possible outcomes.

  Ten minutes had passed since they left Cloverdale. Cal thought Walker obviously lived much farther away than he claimed to live.

  Just then, the car came slowed to a stop and Cal heard what sounded like a large door opening, but it didn’t seem like any garage door he had ever heard. What is going on?

  “We’re heeere!” Walker said in a cheery sing-song voice.

  ***

  Guy sat down at his desk and exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Forget it,” he muttered to himself. With the press check still 45 minutes away, Guy felt uneasy about leaving Cal and Kelly unexposed for so long. Besides, no one would suspect him. He could aid and abet Cal all he wanted. Who would be the wiser?

  “Sammy, get in my office,” Guy bellowed.

  Sammy hung up on his call and scurried from the break room into Guy’s office.

  “What is it, boss?”

  “Sammy, I think it’s about time you take on some more responsibility. Tonight, I’m putting you in charge of press check. You just reread all the headlines and stories once the first few papers come off the press and make sure Terry didn’t screw up any headlines or sneak some filthy double entendre in there. You think you can handle that?”

  “Sure.”

  “All right. Great. I’m out of here. You’re in charge, Sammy. Have fun.”

  “Where you going, boss? Got a hot date?”

  Guy shot Sammy a disgusted look.

  “Don’t worry about my love life. You worry about making sure the paper comes out right. Got it?”

  Guy didn’t wait for a response. He kept walking toward the back door without looking back.

  CHAPTER 41

  WHEN WALKER’S CAR STOPPED, Cal began to get an uneasy feeling about his getaway chauffeur. Walker seemed way too willing to help out when a more rational response would have been to report their whereabouts to his superior. And maybe he did. But at the moment, Cal felt like he had been tricked.

  Before he had any more time to ponder if bumping into Walker had been fortuitous or staged, both doors to the backseat flung open at once. Cal heard Kelly struggling and shouting at whoever was pulling her out of the car. Cal, more concerned with Kelly’s well-being, protested as well. But the blanket wasn’t even fully off his head before he felt Walker slide a needle into his neck.

  Cal slumped to the floor.

  ***

  Walker and his colleague dragged Cal and Kelly into the same room where Cal had been held less than 24 hours ago. This time, they needed another chair.

  “You better hurry,” the other man said. “You don’t have much time.”

  Walker didn’t say a word. He just kept wrapping the limp bodies of Cal and Kelly to the chairs that were positioned back to back. No need to
take any chances by putting them next to each other. Walker’s colleague sealed their mouths shut with duct tape.

  Walker stood at the doorway and smiled at his good fortune: the pesky reporter who refused to heed his warnings and his sidekick were now his temporary guests. He watched the unsettled dust hang in the air before turning off the light. They would forgive his rude treatment later. They would understand. Everyone understood the importance of protecting the common good. Even meddlesome reporters.

  ***

  Guy was fumbling for his car keys in his briefcase when Sheriff Jones roared into The Register’s parking lot and parked at an angle behind Guy. There was no way Guy could maneuver his white 2009 Cadillac CTS Coupe out of his parking space now.

  Jones took his time getting out of his car. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry. Guy was.

  “Hi, Sheriff. What’s the meaning of all this?”

  “Well, I thought you could tell me, Guy.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “I think I asked you a question first.”

  “Are you getting smart with me, Mr. Newspaper Man?”

  “Nope. Just wanting to know why you came flying into the parking lot here just to block my car in.”

  “You’ve got a busted taillight and I didn’t want you to get a ticket.”

  “A busted tail light?” Guy began to walk around to the back of the car to verify Jones’s claim. He didn’t see anything that resembled a scratched taillight, much less a busted one. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about this one.”

  With that statement, Jones pulled his foot back and kicked the left taillight with his boot heel, causing the plastic to crack and splinter.

  “You better be careful not to get on the road with that light busted like it is.”

  Guy couldn’t believe what he just witnessed. He had heard from some people in the community that Jones could be ruthless. Hearing about it and watching it happen were two different things. Guy never imagined Jones would abuse his authority to that degree.