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

the consequences of missing out on a big story because he believed some fake photos. The second option was vengeful, and one he wanted to choose so he could stick it to his weak-kneed editor. But that would mean letting someone get away with something—or at least letting another reporter beat him to the punch. And he would never let that happen, except under the most extraordinary of circumstances. Cal didn’t count losing his job as that extraordinary.

While he was thinking about where to go and who to talk to, a voice snapped him out of his mental deliberations.

“Rough morning?” the man asked.

“Not as rough as riding bareback without chaps,” Cal quipped.

The man offered his hand and forced a smile. “Burt Glover, chaplain for Pro Racers of America.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Cal Murphy, a reporter for The Observer.”

“Well, Cal, you look like you could use some coffee.”

Cal shook his head. “I look that bad, huh?”

“I’ve seen worse, but I know what a bad-morning face looks like.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Glover, who was already holding a mug, gestured for Cal to follow him toward his hauler. “You can tell me all about it on the way.”

Cal nodded and fell into lockstep with Glover.

“So, what terrible hand did life deal you this morning?”

“I am about to break a major story and I got a call from my editor telling me I’d been fired.”

“What would make him do that?”

“Someone who doesn’t like the story I’m working on made it look like I ran up a big bill on the company credit card at a place I shouldn’t have been.”

“Casino? Strip club?”

Cal nodded. “The second one.” He paused. “But I didn’t go. Someone created fake photos of me, making it look like I was there. And they also stole my credit card number and ran up a huge bill.”

They arrived at the hauler. Cal followed Glover inside where a pot of hot coffee awaited.

“Have a seat,” Glover said. He topped off his mug and poured a cup for Cal.

They both sat down and took a few sips before continuing.

Glover studied Cal. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“I’m gonna finish what I started, with or without a paper.”

“Good for you.”

“It’s the only thing I know how to do.”

Glover leaned back in his seat. “Well, don’t get too discouraged by all this. You’re in good company.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Bible is full of stories about men who were unjustly accused. My personal favorite is Joseph.”

“What happened to him?”

“If you’re on a deadline, I don’t have enough time. But the long and the short of it is he was a slave who was accused of sexually assaulting his owner’s wife. Then he went to prison.”

Cal sighed. “Sounds promising.”

“That wasn’t the end. Joseph eventually became the second in command of Egypt.”

“Now, I can get behind that.”

“Just a little encouragement for you. Things might be bad for a while, but just keep doing the right thing and eventually the truth will come out.”

“Don’t I know that. It’s my job to make sure the truth always comes out.”

Glover stood up and shook Cal’s hand. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Cal raised his cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime. And you know where to find me if you need to talk again.”

Cal smiled and slipped outside the hauler. He assessed the scene again. The garage area bustled with activity. Car engines roared as technicians tinkered with settings. Reporters interviewed drivers. Fans zipped around taking photos of their favorite driver’s car and hoped for a photo op. Everything looked normal.

Almost everything.

He glanced over his shoulder to notice two guys who appeared out of place. They looked like they belonged to a security detail. Their attempts to blend into the background only made them stick out to Cal. Dark suits, dark glasses, alone. They both appeared to be staring out into space as if they were looking over the crowd.

Cal wondered who they were, but he didn’t want them to realize he’d noticed them. So he walked casually for about fifty yards before he stopped. He pulled out his cell phone and began to have a fake conversation. As he scanned the area, he saw the men had moved closer toward him.

Are they following me?

Cal kept walking, his pace quickening along with his heart rate. He walked around the corner of the garage office and hustled near a stack of tires. In a matter of seconds, the men appeared. They looked frazzled as if they’d lost something—or someone.

Cal stood up in plain sight and glanced around again. This time, they were looking right at him. He had no idea who they were, but he knew who they were after.

He no longer had the chance to mull his next move in his investigation, forced to do the only thing he could do—run.

CHAPTER 30

OWEN BURNS PICKED the cheese off his sub sandwich and laid it on top of the wrapper. He cursed under his breath and felt his blood pressure rise.

How many times do I have to tell them …

Jackson Holmes sauntered up and gawked for a moment at Burns’ antics. He finally broke his silence, alerting Burns to his presence.

“You tryin’ to catch a rat?” Holmes asked.

Burns didn’t look up. “Haven’t you heard? Rats don’t like cheese. They like peanut butter.” He paused. “But I use other methods to catch rats.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I like to let them run loose for a while and then—BAM!” Burns clapped his hands. “I put them in a trap they can’t escape.”

Holmes furrowed his brow. “Sounds like a regular rat trap to me.”

“That’s what they all think, but it’s the one behind them that they need to be on the lookout for.”

“I’ll remember that if I’m ever looking for something to eat at your house.”

Burns laughed. He gestured toward a tray of subs. “You better get yourself something to eat. Got a big afternoon ahead of us.”

Holmes grabbed a sandwich and disappeared.

After reassembling his sandwich sans cheese, Burns stood up and