Dead Shot by Jack Patterson (adventure books to read .TXT) 📕

– and maybe not in that order. When I do think about it, it’s like an out-of-body experience. I see myself doing things I wouldn’t naturally think to do.”

“It’s just amazing what you did. And your story had our whole newsroom buzzing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It also had my editors buzzing, especially when I told them I was flying out to meet you today and that you were one of my friends from college. They wanted me to give you something.”

Josh extended an envelope with The Times logo and address on it. Cal grabbed it and began opening it.

“What is it?”

“It’s an offer for you to come work as an enterprise reporter on our sports staff.”

“Are you serious?” Cal jumped up and down a few times before giving Josh a hug without regard for how anyone viewed their relationship. Josh almost lost his balance in all the elation.

“Yeah, I’m serious. After your story came through, I mentioned that we were friends and reminded the sports staff that I beat you out for the internship – to which I received many wise cracks, most of which were completely demeaning toward me. Our sports editor then dug up your resume and asked me if I thought you’d want to work in sports.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him yes, of course. An hour later, they gave me this envelope and told me to give it to you when I saw you today.”

“Wow! All I can say is thanks! We’re going to be together again.”

“Well, not so fast. I’m not sure if I’m going to end up staying there after my internship is up next month. It’s all up in the air.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“For me – but not for you. You really deserve it, Cal. I mean, anybody that served a sentence at a small town weekly has definitely paid their dues.”

“Well, it’s not as bad as you might think. I actually met some really nice people in Statenville and learned a lot, thanks to Guy Thompson, God rest his soul.”

“That’s great. I’m glad it worked out for you.”

Josh paused before wading into the touchy subject of women.

“So, what about this Kelly girl? Is there anything to you and her?”

“That is a good question. I really like her, but I’m not sure we’ve got the same vision for life.”

“That’s too bad because I’ve got an offer for her as well to come work for The Times.”

Cal looked slack-jawed at Josh.

“They offered her a job, too?”

“Yep, sure did. The photo chief was blown away by the amount of quality pictures she took as you guys were fleeing for your lives. Really good photojournalism, from what he said. You think she’ll take it?”

“I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“So, you gonna take the job?”

“Probably. I’ve got a lot to work through after the past few days. I want to weigh all my options, but you know Seattle is where I’ve wanted to be for as long as I can remember.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Cal smiled and said nothing. He turned onto the interstate and pressed the gas pedal down. He was doing things his way – no compromise, hard work and a stroke of good luck. It hadn’t felt that way four days ago. Yet, like a story can turn on the fortune of one good lead, so can one’s life. Cal couldn’t believe his was turning out to be one such story.

THE END

To learn more in the next installment of the Cal Murphy series, keep going to get a sneak peek of "Cross the Line" ...

Cross the Line

CHAPTER ONE

NOAH LARSON WATCHED RAINDROPS trickling down the window over the kitchen sink, racing to a predictable end. Most drops would find their way to the bottom of the sill before joining others to form a small stream that spilled into the dormant flowerbed. A few lucky ones would take control of their fate, resisting the urge to be like everyone by sticking ever so tenuously to an open spot on the glass. But even they were susceptible to being washed away by a collision with just another raindrop or a blast of air. It was a depressing thought, one that was quickly washed away by the reality of Noah’s life. Who had time to ponder the depths of existentialism when there was a Super Bowl to win?

In three hours, Noah was scheduled to join his teammates on a charter flight to Houston where the Seattle Seahawks would attempt to bring home the first Lombardi Trophy the city had ever seen. And it was going to happen—he just knew it. Nothing was going to stop his destiny on the football field. Ever since he first began playing peewee football, Noah’s talents were apparent to everyone, including himself. While he had boxes of personal trophies, plaques and accolades, they stayed in unmarked containers on a shelf in his garage. The only trophy Noah wanted to show off was the smooth silver one, hoisting it above his head while confetti rained down from the rafters of Gillette Stadium. That destiny was only six days away.

“Dad, did you pack my lunch?” came the question from across the kitchen that snapped Noah back to the present.

“Sure, Jake. Got it right here,” Noah said, handing his six-year-old son a brown paper sack. “I even remembered to put your favorite Capri Sun in there, too.”

“Apple?”

“I thought you liked grape.”

“Daaaaad! You always mix up my favorite flavors. I like grape jelly but apple juice.”

“Well, we can fix that right now.”

Noah shuffled to the pantry and ripped open a six-pack of apple-flavored Capri Suns, grabbing one for Jake.

“Here you go, son. I’ll get it right next time—don’t you worry.”

“It’s OK, dad. I’m really gonna miss you this week.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, sport. But I’ll see you on Friday. You and mom are flying down and we’ll do something fun when I’m not busy.”

“I can’t wait! Can we go see the Dynamo’s stadium while we’re down there?”

“The Dynamo?