Dead Drop by Jack Patterson (reading cloud ebooks txt) 📕

in Cal’s direction. Martinez wasn’t the biggest star on the team, but he was a crowd favorite. Born in Seattle to immigrant parents, Martinez had remained in Seattle for almost every season of his playing career. With the exception of a one-year stop at a California junior college to get his grades up, Martinez starred at the University of Washington and led the school to a pair of conference championships. Seattle FC signed him as a free agent once he graduated, and he was easily the best feel-good story on the team. The only complaint anyone ever had against him was his spotty play since turning pro. Some games he played like an all-star; other games he played like his mind was in another place. And while it maddened fans, most who knew Martinez’s story were forgiving. His father, who worked in the shipping yard at the docks, had been arrested one too many times and was deported six months after Javier signed with Seattle FC. It seemed to weigh heavily on the younger Martinez. And while soccer wasn’t Cal’s beat, it was one of the most well-known stories among the city’s sports fans due to The Times’ coverage.

Apparently, he didn’t get the memo that he’s not supposed to speak to me.

Cal flashed a brief smile and offered his hand to Martinez. “Good to see you, Javy, though I wish it was under different circumstances.”

“I know what you mean. Everyone is torn up about it. We were great friends, you know.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss. I liked Sid too and had a decent rapport with him.” Cal glanced at his notes. “So, what are you gonna miss the most about him?”

Martinez’s head dropped as he glanced down at the field and thought for a moment. “I’m gonna miss his kindness and compassion. He was our team leader in every way. I loved the guy.”

“Did he ever talk to you about having any enemies?”

“He often complained that his biggest enemy was time and how she’d been so cruel to him, allowing him to build his dreams only to have them torn down over time.”

“But no personal enemies?”

Martinez cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow. “You mean like people who didn’t like him?”

Cal nodded.

“Is there something you know that you’re not telling me? It was a straight bank robbery with an unfortunate ending, right?”

“Is that the story all my media brethren are pumping out?”

“It’s the story you wrote, too.”

“Perhaps I was wrong. Consider for a moment that it wasn’t so random. Who were some of the teammates who had it out for Sid?”

Martinez rubbed his eyes and sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t surprised to hear that he was dead. I half expected it—just not like that.”

“So, is there one person in particular that has perhaps harbored enough ill will toward Sid to conceive and execute such a plan?”

Martinez shrugged. “Go talk to Matt Norfolk. His locker was right next to Sid’s. Plus, they had some issues.”

Cal nodded and walked across the field toward Norfolk, who was kicking the ball toward an open net from about fifty feet away. As he headed toward his next interview subject, Cal recalled the rumors he’d heard about the Westin-Norfolk feud that had escalated over the last year. When the story was first related to him, Cal assumed the conflict was about jealousy. Sid took over Norfolk’s slot in the starting lineup and never relinquished it. Instead of taking the issue up with his coach, Norfolk decided to take it up directly with Sid. According to witnesses of Norfolk’s confrontation with Sid, the situation tense. But Cal never knew if there was something deeper to their rift than playing time.

Just as Cal was about to ask Norfolk directly, Holloway exited the press conference and shouted excitedly at Cal as he crossed the field.

“I thought I said no interviews,” Holloway said. “How much clearer do I need to make it for you, Cal?”

Cal sighed and shook his head before pulling out his notebook and scribbling down a few thoughts onto paper.

Did Matt Norfolk hate Sid Westin enough to fake a robbery and use that as an excuse to murder him?

It was a question that popped into Cal’s head. Suddenly, he wanted it answered—and soon.

CHAPTER 6

KITTRELL KICKED HIS FEET UP on his boss’s desk and leaned back as he awaited the arrival of Ted Roman, the department’s Chief of Police. While Kittrell enjoyed a strong rapport with Roman before he botched the serial killer case, their relationship had since weakened. But that didn’t stop Kittrell from needling Roman, who had a reputation around the department for being a neat freak.

Quinn sat in a chair in the corner of the room, leaning forward as he eyed Kittrell. “You sure you wanna do that?” Quinn said, gesturing toward Kittrell’s feet. “We need to get back on his good side, remember?”

Kittrell didn’t move. “Roman loves us—and this is how I endear myself to him?”

“By annoying him?”

“It’s what partners do to each other.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Kittrell sighed. “I’m not trying to say anything. I’m telling you that this is how partners act.” He paused for a moment. “You annoy me all the time.”

“How?”

“You like Justin Bieber.”

Quinn cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Really? How do you find that annoying? Everyone loves Justin Bieber.”

“No, they don’t. And I dare say that you’d be lucky to find more than two men in the department who find his music appealing. It sounds like a whiny, jilted teenaged girl singing, but just an octave lower.”

“I understand not everyone is a Belieber, but—”

“Okay,” Kittrell said, interrupting him. “That right there. I’m going to ask for a transfer now.”

“What?” Quinn said, throwing his hands in the air. “What did I say?”

“You used the word Belieber. You might as well have drug your fingernails down the chalkboard and chanted the word moist while you danced to a Justin Bieber song.”

Quinn sat back in his seat.