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

a gun or Sloan feigning empathy before kicking Drake and having him arrested. Deputy Tillman helped Drake to his feet before glancing at Cal, who read the look of a deputy feeling conflicted.

Sloan sauntered over to Cal. The sheriff slipped a toothpick in his mouth and crossed his arms.

“Any doubt that man’s not stable?” Sloan asked. “He threatened me with a gun for God’s sake. It was nice theater, but he’s guilty, and I can’t wait to watch him get another guilty verdict.” He worked his toothpick over and waited a moment before continuing. “I don’t think I need to answer another single question of yours.”

Cal cocked his head to one side and eyed the sheriff closely. “Actually, you do,” Cal said as he held up his iPad for Sloan to view. “Care to explain this to me?”

Sloan inspected the photo of himself handing Boone a bag of cash. “No, I don’t,” Sloan roared. “Now get off my property and outta my town before I make your life a livin’ hell.”

Cal glanced at Kelly, who was already walking back toward their car. He joined her, satisfied that she had captured a telling moment in the investigation; yet it was a moment that was no closer to leading them to the truth about what happened to Susannah Sloan.

CHAPTER 33

AFTER SPENDING THE REMAINDER of Saturday working on an article about Isaiah Drake’s release and subsequent arrest for The Seattle Times, Cal and Kelly decided to attend Pickett AME Church on Sunday morning. Cal thought it would help give him more depth to the feature story he was writing on Drake.

They slipped into the church five minutes after the service began, snagging the last two empty slots along the back pew. Bishop Jermaine Arnold started preaching after a lengthy session of singing hymns with the lively congregation. He paced back and forth across the stage for the first fifteen minutes before venturing down into the aisles. His sermon on the children of Israel escaping the Egyptians into the desert brought some moans and a smattering of “come on now” exclamations from the audience.

“There are times in our lives where we may feel like we’re the ones being persecuted, like there are a different set of rules for us based on factors beyond our control,” Bishop Arnold said. “Perhaps it has to do with the color of our skin or the hand we’ve been dealt in life. We might be poor and look at a rich person and think he has no problems. Or we might find ourselves fortunate to have money yet look at the poor person and wonder what it would be like to be so unencumbered by so much responsibility. No matter where God has placed us on this earth and what we look like and what kind of job we might or might not have, what’s important for us as God’s children is to remember that our joy is not found in how we might feel about our current situation; no, our joy is found in our obedience to the one we claim to follow.”

Arnold continued down the aisle until he reached the back row. He stood right next to Cal and Kelly.

“This has been an interesting week in our community. We’ve lost someone we’ve known and loved and watched grow up here in Jordan Hayward. We’ve also found Isaiah Drake, who returned to us—even if ever so briefly—after being falsely accused of murder. We must all endeavor to show love to those around us this week and remember that no matter how difficult or trying our situation might be, it’s not permanent. Nothing is forever … except God and his love for his people.”

A rousing round of “Amens” erupted throughout the sanctuary. Bishop Arnold smiled as he returned to the stage. He said a prayer that lasted at least five minutes by Cal’s count before the choir sang another song and Bishop Arnold dismissed the congregation.

Cal and Kelly exited the sanctuary but didn’t leave the church grounds. Cal saw Hayward’s mother, who he wanted to talk to, as well as several other people who looked like they might be willing to share their feelings about all the events that had happened over the past week.

Cal interviewed a couple of churchgoers briefly before he saw Heloise Hayward, Jordan’s mother. He walked up to her and looked her in the eyes.

“Sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hayward. I know your Jordan meant a lot to you,” Cal said.

Mrs. Hayward closed her eyes and nodded slowly.

Cal continued. “Look, I know our last conversation wasn’t exactly the best one and—”

“No need to apologize,” Mrs. Hayward said, interrupting. “I know we all get carried away sometimes in our judgments and presuppositions. Jordan wasn’t all I hoped he would be, but he tried. Sometimes he tried hard; sometimes he didn’t. But he always wanted to do the right thing even when it didn’t look that way, that much I sincerely believe.”

Kelly hugged Mrs. Hayward and patted her on the back. “Be strong, Mrs. Hayward.”

Mrs. Hayward forced a smile. “That’s the state of my life, child.”

Cal and Kelly stepped back, giving way to a short line of well-wishers wanting to speak with Mrs. Hayward. They watched as several women gave her a hug. Devontae Ray then wheeled up next to her. She leaned down to hug him. Ray was followed by Harold Jenkins, one of Drake’s former teammates from the Pickett County High School football team. Cal waited until Jenkins was clearly finished with Mrs. Hayward before approaching him.

“Harold Jenkins?” Cal said.

Jenkins nodded. “And you are?”

“Cal Murphy, The Seattle Times,” Cal said, offering his hand.

Jenkins narrowed his eyes before he leaned back, withdrawing in a way that demonstrated he held Cal suspect.

“What do you want?” Jenkins asked.

“I was wondering if you might be interested in talking a little bit about Isaiah Drake?”

“What for?”

“I’m writing an article on Drake for my paper, and I thought you might be able to provide a