Dead and Gone Jack Patterson (ebook reader play store .txt) 📖

people lining up to tell me what happened, including an eye witness.”

“I’d be leery of anyone making such proclamations, Mr. Murphy. This is a cut throat business and people will do anything to get ahead.”

“Even falsely accusing someone else of murder.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I promise to handle this wisely, but you must know I have to write about these findings. And I wanted to give you the courtesy of commenting on the findings.” Cal pulled out a file and handed it to him.

Simpson sat back down and scanned the summary page before flipping through several other pages and looking at a couple of photos. Cal noted the glistening “Duke Dad” bumpersticker beneath his Tennessee paperweight. He then handed the file back to Cal.

“This definitely warrants another look by our investigators,” Simpson said. “We are aware of the matter and will address it once we’ve had time to reopen an investigation.”

“Thank you.” Cal turned to leave.

“Wait,” Simpson said. “When are you planning on writing about this?”

“Tomorrow’s paper, tonight’s blog.”

Simpson sighed. “Is there any way you can hold off on this, at least for another week and a half until the season’s over? I’d hate for something like this to overshadow some driver’s championship season.”

“I doubt that’s possible. My editor wants this story now. I suggest you get out in front of it before it’s all you’re talking about for the next few days. I’m not interested in ruining your season, but somebody’s dead—and it looks like it was murder. NASCAR didn’t do this, but you sure as heck better not try to cover it up.”

Cal exited the hauler and called Folsom.

“I’ve got a story for you, but I’m warning you that it’s not going to be pretty. Get ready for some phone calls,” Cal said.

“If it wasn’t stirring the pot, where would the fun be in that?” he answered.

CHAPTER 22

RON PARKER GLANCED at his watch and tried to ignore the pain. If he was in the Phoenix area, at least he could tell his wife that he went for a hike and got bit then. It would bring plenty of questions, but none he couldn’t answer creatively to assuage her concerns.

He checked his rearview mirror and wiped the sweat beading up on his forehead. Twenty more minutes until the nearest hospital.

I can make it.

Then he looked in his mirror again. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He squeezed them shut and opened them again, squinting at the sight. The headlights of the car behind him seemed to be double. He repeated the process. Still double.

He felt like he might faint. He rolled all the windows down to get more air in the car and help him stay conscious.

That’s when he felt a jolt.

What the—

Parker turned around to see the headlights from the SUV behind him just inches away from his car. He stomped on the gas, but to no avail. Another jolt.

The sweat started to pour off his forehead, stinging his eyes. He took one hand off the steering wheel and tried to clear his face. He lurched forward again.

When he realized his escape tactic was failing, he decided to try something else. He started to veer into the other lane only to see another car there. The window was down on the passenger side and the man driving trained his gun on him. He motioned for Parker to pull over.

So this is how it ends? I don’t think so.

Parker headed toward the shoulder and watched the two vehicles fall in line behind him and slow down. Then Parker slammed his foot on the gas and took off.

The nearest hospital was only two minutes away off the next exit. It’d take more explaining to do, but he preferred that to the obvious alternative.

However, he underestimated his assailants. Within seconds, they had boxed him in and forced him off the road.

Moments later, Parker staggered out of the car with his hands in the air.

One of the men swaggered up to him and jammed a 9 mm Glock into his chest. “Well, if it isn’t Ron Parker. You’re a hard man to find.” He laughed and turned around to look at the three other men accompanying him. He stopped laughing and lunged back at Parker. “Where’s my money?”

Parker cowered. “I’m going to have it for you tomorrow.”

The man laughed. “Tomorrow? You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that Ronny boy? You’ve been running from us for quite a while. We blew it off for a while, but things are tight and it’s time to collect. At least you quit making excuses.” He grabbed Parker by the scruff of his neck and shoved him farther away from the highway shoulder.

“Please! I’m serious. I’m going to collect in the morning and get you your money, if I live.”

The man grunted. “I was told to either get the money or extract a pound of flesh. It’s bad for business if everyone thinks they can get away with stiffing us. Sometimes, it’s worth fifty G’s to send a message. You know what I’m sayin’?”

Parker started to wobble.

“Are you okay, man? You don’t look too good,” the man said before bursting out into laughter again.

Parker reached down to scratch his leg.

“Hey, now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“It’s a snake bite.” Parker said, and slowly tugged on his pants leg to reveal a swollen calf. “I’m gonna die if I don’t make it to the hospital in the next twenty minutes or so.”

“You’re makin’ my job easy for me tonight.” He turned toward the other three men. “Get him in the car.”

Parker squirmed in protest, but he was so weak he could barely get out a word.

“One of you get his car. I love it when I can get my hands dirty without getting them dirty.”

The man led the caravan back onto the Interstate toward Phoenix.

CHAPTER 23

CAL MADE HIS WAY through the mass of RVs covering a large swath of desert just below the Arizona