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

“So you’re not buying that Drake did it?” Kelly asked.

Boone shook his head. “He loved that girl too much.”

“Who do you think could’ve done it? Sheriff Sloan?”

Boone shrugged. “The Sheriff has been nothin’ but good to me since I tried to turn my life around. I don’t do drugs anymore and livin’ straight and narrow now. I wanted to blame Susannah for all my problems, but she was just doin’ her job. I think I could’ve turned my life around and gotten to a better place with them, but I can’t be sure. What I do know is that they all ended up in a good home and are well taken care of. That’s all I can ask. It was my fault for doin’ such stupid things to begin with. I had to stop blamin’ her because I could only blame myself.”

“And Sloan helped you through that?” Cal asked.

“Not at first. For the first few weeks after Susannah died, I was glad. I thought it served her right, but then I started to feel bad for some things I said about her to my buddies. I knew it wasn’t right the moment it came out of my mouth. That’s when I asked Sheriff Sloan if we could talk.”

“And he was open to that?”

“He welcomed it and then hired me to work out at his camp, which is why all those nasty rumors got started about me runnin’ moonshine for him. They’re just ridiculous.”

“Hold up,” Kelly said. “Sheriff Sloan has a camp? What kind of camp?”

“Camp Manmaker. It’s kind of a challenge camp to help older boys who’ve been struggling in the juvey system. They do tasks together and kind of grow up in the course of a week.”

Cal scribbled down some notes. “How long has this camp been going on? And when is it held?”

“It’s been goin’ on for as long as I can remember,” Boone said. “Every summer, he holds several week-long camps. It stays pretty much dormant the rest of the year. We used to hear all kinds of rumors about what really went on there when we were kids, but it’s all just a bunch of myths.”

“Like the Marsh Monster?” Cal said with a grin.

Boone’s face turned serious. “Don’t joke about the Marsh Monster. I swear he’s real.”

“You ever seen him?”

Boone nodded. “Once, when I was on my way back from doin’ some work for Sheriff Sloan out at his camp, I saw the Marsh Monster dart across the road in front of my car.”

“What’d he look like?”

“It was gettin’ dark and I had a hard time makin’ out all the details, but he’s real. I saw ‘em with my own two eyes.”

“Okay, okay,” Cal said, glancing at his notes. “Let’s get back to this Camp Manmaker. So, everything seems on the up and up out there?”

“Sheriff Sloan helped me refocus my life at a time when I needed it most. And for that, I’m eternally grateful. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve probably been dead long ago.”

“So if you were building a list of suspects that didn’t include Isaiah Drake, who else would you think could have killed Susannah Sloan?”

“What about the dude she was gonna marry? You know, that lawyer schmuck from Jacksonville?” Boone offered.

“He had an airtight alibi,” Kelly said. “He was at a fundraiser that night and was there long after midnight. No way he could’ve done it.”

Boone slapped the table with open palms. “Well, you’ve got me then. I’ve got no idea who could’ve done it. Sheriff Sloan is the only one who could cover up a crime in this town—and I just can’t believe he did it.”

Cal offered his hand to Boone, who shook it.

“Thanks for all your help and your openness,” Cal said.

“My pleasure. I hope you catch the bastard who did this to Susannah. For a while, I thought she did me wrong, but I know better now. She didn’t deserve to end up like this.”

“Ma’am,” Boone said as he tipped his cap to Kelly.

Cal waited until Boone exited the diner before saying a word.

“Well?” Call said.

“Well, what?” Kelly asked.

“Well, what do you think? Did we finally get someone in this town to tell us the truth about what happened that night?”

“Even if we did, how can we verify it? Of the other four people who were there, two are now dead, one is the sheriff, and the other man claims to not remember a thing.”

“Maybe we can jog his memory.”

Cal’s phone buzzed. He held up the screen so Kelly could see it.

“Look, it’s Jarrett Anderson,” Cal said before answering the call. “Agent Anderson, what in the world are you doing calling me on a Sunday evening?”

“Are you still in Pickett?” Anderson asked.

“How’d you—?”

“I read your story today,” Anderson said. “I still keep up with you from time to time.”

“Well, I’m honored that you care that much.”

“You write sports here in Seattle. You don’t think I’m going to read the political section, do you?”

“Good point.”

“Anyway, I was calling to let you know that I heard there’s a big raid going down around Pickett tonight.”

“What kind of raid? Does it have to do with my story?”

“I’m not sure. One of my friends from way back in Quantico told me that they’re onto some crime ring.”

“It wouldn’t happen to involve a guy going by the name of the Enforcer, would it?” Cal asked.

“Actually, I think that’s the name he mentioned—just thought you’d want a heads up, okay?”

“Got any idea where this is going down?”

“I didn’t get any details like that, but I know it’s somewhere near where you’re at.”

“Thanks, Agent Anderson. I appreciate it.”

Cal hung up and looked at Kelly. “We’re sitting on a powder keg here, and it’s about to blow.”

“That bad, huh?” she asked.

Cal nodded slowly.

“So, am I just gonna sit here and watch you finish your fries or are we going to go watch the fireworks?”

“Grab your coat. We’re going to Camp Manmaker.”

Cal stood up and turned around, only to be met by Crazy Corey Taylor.

“I wouldn’t