Dead to Rights by Jack Patterson (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

Cal by leaning over and whispering in his ear. “Figure out who did it yet?” Taylor asked. “If you want to know who did it, come find me sometime.”

* * *

THE SOUND OF METAL colliding with metal at fifteen to twenty-five miles per hour echoed across the grandstand, always followed by a chorus of oohs and ahhs. Cal understood the appeal of watching cars ram one another for sport. The singular objective to destroy the other competitors and be the remaining operational car took away the pretense that a race was necessary. It was a vehicular gladiator event. And even as someone who was uninitiated, Cal enjoyed it.

Jacob Boone was one of the final two competitors but lost when Earl Underwood clipped the back of his car, which proceeded to flip and land wheels up. Boone climbed out and signaled that he was okay, leading to Earl’s attempt at a victory donut. However, Earl couldn’t generate enough speed, and he instead settled on a celebratory flip after climbing out of his car.

While the crowd cheered Earl’s win, Cal was walking down the steps to meet Kelly when he noticed a pair of reporters with cameramen interviewing Sheriff Sloan. Cal hustled over to see what they were questioning him about.

“We understand that the FBI has taken over the investigation of Jordan Hayward’s death,” one of the reporters said. “Can you tell us anything you learned before ceding jurisdiction?”

Sloan grimaced. “I’m not really authorized to comment on the crime scene at this time, but I will say it was unusual.”

“So is it safe to assume that this wasn’t a suicide?” the reporter asked.

“No, this wasn’t a suicide,” Sloan confirmed.

“Could this be the work of the Marsh Monster?” the other reporter asked, tongue-in-cheek.

Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “A man’s dead and you want to make a joke like that? The Marsh Monster may not be a monster in the way we think of them, but whoever he is, he’s killed a couple of good people in Pickett. And it’s no laughing matter.”

The reporter turned beet red and slunk back.

Cal stepped forward to ask a question, but Sloan noticed him.

“That’s all I’ve got time for,” Sloan said before he turned and hopped over a barrier wall, distancing himself from the media members.

Cal watched Sloan until he vanished from sight. Cal was still staring when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Cal! Cal! Hello? Earth to Cal?”

Cal blinked and realized Kelly was standing right there. “Oh, hey. Did you get some good photos?”

She grinned. “Did I ever? However, there’s one you’ll be particularly interested in. Here.”

She handed Cal her camera.

He looked at the small display screen.

“Zoom in,” she said.

Cal followed her instructions and enlarged an image of Sheriff Sloan and Jacob Boone exchanging a large duffle bag.

“Go to the next picture,” Kelly said.

Cal scrolled to the next photo and zoomed in to see Boone staring into the opened bag which appeared to contain several stacks of cash.

“Jacob Boone was right,” Kelly said. “People aren’t always what they seem in Pickett.”

CHAPTER 31

CAL AND KELLY MANAGED to beat the rush to Curly’s Diner, which quickly became packed with race attendees. They nodded to Curly, who brought them a menu and two glasses of sweet tea.

“If you two stay here another few days, you’ll be able to order the usual, and I’ll know what you mean,” Curly said with a smile.

“No offense, but we’d like to avoid that,” Cal said.

“I understand. I wouldn’t want to stay around a place where I was making so many enemies.”

“Are people talking about us?” Kelly asked.

Curly broke into a wry grin. “This is Pickett. Everybody talks about everybody.” He tapped on the table. “I’ll give you two a minute to decide and be back.”

Cal waited until Curly disappeared into the kitchen before he started talking. “I feel like we’re in a demolition derby ourselves here trying to figure this case out,” Cal said. “We don’t have enough definitive proof to get Drake exonerated yet—if he even deserves to be exonerated—and we’ve watched our list of suspects reduced to one … but only because he’s dead.”

“Hayward’s death doesn’t get him off the hook,” Kelly said.

Cal nodded. “True, but it does make helping Drake clear his name that much more difficult.”

“So, let’s go through all our suspects,” Kelly said. “Start with Sheriff Sloan. Motive?”

“Racism? Disgust? Protecting his family’s honor?”

“I could possibly see the first one, but protecting his family’s honor? It’s the 21st Century. Who doesn’t have a daughter these days bringing shame upon her family name? The Kardashians even celebrate their shame.”

Cal huffed. “Let’s stay focused. We could lament the downfall of our entire country once we start talking about reality show celebrities, particularly ones known for their abnormally large body parts.”

“Good point.”

Curly returned and took their orders before moving to the next table.

“So let’s say Sloan is a racist and didn’t want his daughter marrying a black man. Why not kill Drake instead?” Cal asked.

“Less blowback. Easier to get away with killing your daughter than killing a superstar athlete.”

“Or easier to hire someone to kill your daughter,” Cal countered.

“You think he hired someone like Jacob Boone?”

“Possibly. I wouldn’t rule that out. But all we know for sure is that Sloan has something to hide.”

“And he’ll keep on hiding it, too. With his ability to doctor the logs, no one is going to believe what we found out about Sloan being logged out during the time of Susannah’s death. We’re just going to seem like a pair of sad muckrakers.”

Cal laughed. “We’ve been called worse.”

“What about Jordan Hayward? His motive?”

“Jealousy. He didn’t want anyone taking his girl away, even his best friend.”

Kelly furrowed her brow. “So, he murders her?”

“Could’ve been a crime of passion, and then he thought he’d be able to pin it on Drake.”

“But Drake can’t remember anything. How’d he pull that off?”

“Maybe Drake didn’t see it. What if Hayward knocked Drake out and then killed Susannah before Hayward decided to frame one of his best friends?”

Kelly