Dead in the Water (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 4) (12 page)

First, there was a picture of Dixon flashing the peace sign next to his new Audi TT with the hashtag: #MyUncleGaveIt2Me.

The reactionary nature of college football fans made social media sites a dangerous place. Bitter and jealous fans would turn a harmless tweet into a piranha feeding in the Twitter fishbowl. And since plenty of fans believed there was some shady business going on, embittered fans of southern college football teams united. The #MyUncleGaveIt2Me went viral with people taking pictures of themselves outside giant houses or nice cars, most of which didn’t belong to them. It questioned the integrity of Dixon’s tweet as well as attracted the attention of an NCAA investigator. By the early afternoon, one recruiting website had a story up quoting a kid at the school who said he knew for a fact an Alabama booster gave the car to Dixon.

And Cal hadn’t written a single word about it, much less knew about it.

“I can get something on this for you,” Cal said.

“No! It’s too late for the world we live in. This isn’t the 1990s. Besides, I want you on a plane tonight. You’re gonna put some kind of story together—and then you’re gonna be covering the Hawks this weekend. Got it?”

Cal hung up and trudged back into the café. He texted Dixon and told him he couldn’t meet today and that he might not be back.

“Problems?” Potter asked as Cal sat back down.

“I’ve got to get back to Atlanta. Stuff in the office needs my attention.”

Potter smiled. “All the more fishin’ and huntin’ for me this weekend.”

“I’m glad one of us is happy.”

“I’ll get my keys.”

CHAPTER 18

MOST DAYS FRANK JOHNSON would scream and curse over such an intrusion into his day. But today was different. His plan to spend all day Thursday fishing ended when Tre’vell Baker died. Thursday was the funeral and he decided he needed to be there. What he didn’t plan on was the frenetic pace with which Dominique Dixon drew the watchful eye of the college football world with his new car.

But he didn’t mind. This was opportunity, an opportunity that sent him scrambling to get his jet in Huntsville back south so he could win the day—or make sure that Alabama lost it.

His plane landed and came to a halt outside of his hanger. After a few moments, the cabin door opened and Guy Lewis stepped into the muggy bayou air.

“Is this really necessary?” Lewis said as he gestured at his clothes. Lewis sported a crimson-colored outfit—jogging pants, jacket, baseball cap. A diamond-studded necklace with a gold “A” jangled from his neck.

Johnson nodded. “It’s what Alabama’s gaudy fans wear.” John surveyed Lewis a moment before adjusting his cap. “Here, this is too straight,” he said as he tugged it off-kilter. “No Alabama fan puts their cap on straight. You’d be a dead giveaway for an impostor.”

“You sure this is gonna work?” Lewis asked.

“As long as you talk like an ignorant redneck, it’ll work just fine. Trust me.” Johnson pointed toward the vehicle awaiting Lewis. It was a white Yukon with spinning rims and an Alabama window sticker that spanned the length of the back window.

“Seriously?” Lewis asked.

“You gotta look the part.”

Lewis rolled his eyes and shuffled toward the vehicle. He got inside and rolled down the window.

“The directions are on your seat there along with a picture of Dixon,” Johnson said as he leaned on the door. “He should be easy to spot. Just look for the kid getting out of a red Audi TT at the Texaco station in about twenty minutes. Tell him you wan to meet after practice and he will.”

Lewis nodded. “You owe me big time for this.”

Johnson slapped the side of the Yukon as Lewis drove away.

***

Cal thanked Potter for his help as he gathered his belongings and prepared to get on a flight headed for Atlanta.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Potter,” Cal said.

“Aw, it was nothing. I’m sorry you didn’t find out who did it. That would’ve made a heckuva story.”

“It sure would have. Take care.”

“You too—and you know where to find me if you need me any time soon.” Potter gave him a hand-written receipt and waved.

Cal walked toward the ticket counter. He wasn’t ready to leave. He’d only felt like he was just getting started.

How will I explain this to Kelly?

Cal’s phone rang.

Speak of the devil.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” Cal answered.

“Excited to hear that you’re coming home early. I got your message.”

“Yeah. I’m excited to see you too—but not to be leaving so early.”

“Did you not get everything you needed?”

“Not even close.”

“Maybe you can go back down there soon.”

“We can only hope.”

“What are you suggesting? That the book deal is dead?”

Cal shifted from one foot to the other, thinking about the most delicate way to present the bad news. “Maybe. But I still have a chance. I just might need to make another trip down here.”

He hated exaggerating with Kelly, but he couldn’t break her heart. Not after she’d repainted the nursery while he was gone. Not after this was their big chance to get the money they needed to start a family.

“We’ll talk about it when I get home,” Cal added.

He knew they’d talk about it and it wouldn’t be a fun conversation.

***

At the Texaco Station after school, Guy Lewis waited patiently for Dominique Dixon to arrive. Just as Johnson predicted, Dixon walked into the store ten minutes after school wrapped up for the day. Lewis leaned against the wall, waiting for the star athlete. Finally, Dixon appeared.

“Dominique, can I have a word with you?” Lewis said.

Dixon’s head snapped toward the direction of Lewis’ voice. “Excuse me?”

“You are Dominique Dixon, right?”

Dixon nodded.

“Well, you’re who I want to speak with,” Lewis said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I had a few things to discuss with you.”

“Wow. Another booster? You guys must be pretty desperate.”

“We’re never desperate. We just know what we want.”

“Like the best cornerback in the country?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay. I’m listening. But before you begin, I just wanted to say thanks for the car.”

Lewis put his index finger to his mouth. “If you want to call me Uncle Bernard, I don’t mind. But let’s keep it our little secret.”

While Lewis acted like their meeting was secretive, he wanted the exact opposite. He wanted complete transparency, the kind Johnson could capture on his phone and post on social media.

CHAPTER 19

CAL TRUDGED INTO HIS APARTMENT, dreading his confrontation with Kelly. While he was glad to reunite with his wife, admitting the truth wouldn’t be easy. He smelled dinner on the table.

Kelly scurried into the front hallway as soon as she heard the door close behind Cal.

“You’re home!” she said as she laid eyes upon him.

“In one piece, believe it or not,” Cal answered.

“It is hard to believe with all those shady dealings that happen in the swamp.”

Cal laughed. “It’s not like that—but it is a different world.”

“Hopefully a world you were able to capture a good story from to write a book about.”

Cal said nothing.

“Come here, I want to show you the nursery.”

Kelly dragged Cal down the hall into their spare bedroom, which was now an assortment of neutral baby colors.

“What do you think?”

“I think you did a great job while I was gone.”

“Now all we need is for you to write that book.”

“Kelly, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Kelly stared at Cal, awaiting the next words out of his mouth. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s about the book deal.”

“Have you signed a contract yet?”

Cal paused. “Not yet, but soon.”

“Better hurry up. I’m getting antsy.”

Kelly skipped off to the freshly painted baby room. Cal stood in the hallway, wondering if he could ever regain control of the lie he’d unleashed.

***

Cal sifted through his notes and couldn’t come up with anything substantial. All the interviews, all the background, all the facts. Nothing led to a killer. It seemed as though Tre’vell Baker had nothing to hide.

Why would anyone kill him?

Cal’s phone buzzed. It was Saint-Parran High School’s football coach, Hal Holloway.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“There’s no good time for me these days.”

“I only wanted to tell you this so you can stop one of these scumbags down here from ruinin’ another kid’s life. I can call you back—”

“No, no. I’ve got time for you. What you got?”

“After practice today, Dominique told me some Alabama booster approached him and talked to him. He said the guy wasn’t discreet or anything and seemed like he wanted to be out in the open.”

“Did the guy say who his name was?”

“They never do. Anyway, Dixon thanked the booster for the car and he told him to keep it a secret. Now he’s a little concerned how it might look.”

Even though Holloway couldn’t see the reporter he was talking to, Cal nodded. But Cal wasn’t sure it was a lie. Nothing about this story came in a straightforward manner.

Holloway continued. “I asked him to describe the man and when he did, it made me think about a story I heard several years ago about a Bryant University booster posing as an Alabama booster in an effort to get Alabama in trouble with the NCAA for rules violations. One of the kids snapped a picture of them talking. I’m sending it to you now along with the one from several years ago of the alleged Alabama booster who was caught giving recruits things in an effort to get the crime pinned on Alabama. I showed the picture to Dixon and he said it looks like the same guy. I’ve got all the information in the email for you. Whatever is going on, it seems shady.”

Cal thanked the coach and hung up.

When Cal’s email alerted him to the arrival of a new email, he opened it and began studying the pictures.

“Kelly!” he yelled. “I need your help.”

CHAPTER 20

HUGH SANDERS PARKED HIS TRUCK right in front of Dominique Dixon’s new red Audi TT in the school parking lot. The sun started to slip beyond the horizon and a cool November nip took to the air. Sanders rested against his truck and waited for Dixon.

Within minutes upon arriving, a stream of Saint-Parran High football players spilled into the parking lot toting their pads and helmets. Dixon was engaged in a conversation with one of the players, laughing and joking until another player ran up and showed Dixon something on his phone. In an instant, Dixon’s face dropped. The playful banter ended. Dixon waved them off and walked alone toward his car.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Dixon said to Sanders as he reached his car. “Two of you in one day? Unbelievable. I can’t even believe I’m still on your radar.”

“There’s still room for you at Alabama.”

“Really? After Tyler Anderson committed today?”

“That cornerback out of Dallas?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know who he is.”

Sanders knew exactly who he was. He also knew that Anderson pledged to attend Alabama next season only an hour ago. “You think Alabama is satisfied with one safety?”

Dixon shook his head. “I’m not sure what satisfies anybody these days.”

“I can tell you what satisfies Alabama—that’s winning championships. Anything else is a failure. I think that’s why Coach Raymond likes you so much. He thinks that’s the kind of young man you are, too.” Sanders let his words hang in the air for a moment. “Is he right?”

Dixon took a deep breath and looked down. The top recruit appeared to give the question serious thought.

Before he could answer, Sanders proceeded. “Now that you’ve heard the news, I must let you in on a little secret: Alabama still wants you. But now that they’ve got Anderson locked up, they can walk away from you. They’d like you, but they’re not willing to do anything to get you, if you know what I mean.”

“Like give me a car?”

“Yeah, like that. But we don’t do that for anybody.”

“So did you come to take the car back?”

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but nobody associated with Alabama helped arrange this car for you.”

“That’s not what the guy told me before practice.”

“What guy?”

Dixon shook his head. “Whatever, man. I’m not going to talk about this any more.”

“Look, I came to tell you that the offer from Alabama is still good, but it comes with conditions now.”

“Conditions?” Dixon asked.

“Yeah, like we need you to do something for us.”

“Like what?”

Sanders paused and took a deep breath. This was the real reason he was here speaking with Dixon. It was the only reason why Dixon still mattered to Alabama. “We need to know what made you change your mind about playing for Bryant.”

Dixon stared at Sanders. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do. It’s no secret what Bryant was doing for both you and Tre’vell. But something happened and there are a few people at Alabama who want to know what it is. If you’re willin’ to explain yourself, there’s still a scholarship for you at Alabama. There’s likely a championship ring in it for you, too. More than what any other school can guarantee you.”

“It just wasn’t the right place for us.”

Sanders shook his head and smiled. “You got a lot to learn, kid. I sell cars for a livin’—used cars. And I know when somebody’s lyin’ to me. You have yourself a good day. Best of luck with whoever will take you. Of course, you know how to reach me if you change your mind and decide you wanna tell me the truth.”

Sanders nodded and climbed into his truck before driving away.

***

Dixon put his pads in his equipment bag and placed it in the trunk. Then he climbed into his car and stared at his phone.

Twelve text messages?

He scrolled through the messages one by one. He started to cry. Each message contained an apology from the various coaches who pursued him for his talents only days ago.