Dead in the Water (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 4) (18 page)

Lost in his rage, Johnson failed to see the oncoming car in his path until it was almost too late. He swerved at the last moment to avoid a collision before slowing down. Johnson looked in his rearview mirror and saw the other car sliding off the side of the road and into a ditch.

He stomped again on the gas and kept driving.

“You’re a dead man, Sanders!”

CHAPTER 33

WITH THE RAIN STOPPED and still no sign of Cyrus Wilhelm and his tow truck, Lanette Baker decided to walk for help. She didn’t get more than a quarter of a mile down the road before a truck pulled off on the shoulder in front of her. It was Phil Potter.

“Lanette Baker, what are you doin’ out here? You havin’ car trouble?” he asked as he hopped out of his truck, which remained running.

“Yeah, Phil. I blew out a tire and my phone was dead. Of all the nights not to see Cyrus Wilhelm drive up and down this road at least once.”

“Cyrus has got steadier work tonight,” Potter said. “I heard on my scanner there was a big accident on the other side of the parish.”

“Well, that explains it.”

“I also heard about an erratic driver around here. You haven’t seen anything like that, have you?”

“No. Why you askin’?”

“Oh, nothing really. I was watchin’ the game from my truck while half listenin’ to the scanner and the ball game on the radio when I saw Frank Johnson dart into the parkin’ lot like a bat outta hell. Just wondered if it might be him.”

“You’re ever the snoop,” Lanette said.

“Hop in and I’ll drive you back to your car and fix your flat.”

Lanette climbed into his cab and rode with him back to her car. Outside the car, Nikko was unloading the trunk to get to the spare tire. Potter parked and he and Lanette both got out and walked toward her decrepit vehicle.

“I can do this, mom,” Nikko said. She threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes.

“You got some mighty fine helpers there,” Potter said as he pointed at Nikko. “You might even have yourself another football star. Maybe he’ll even go to LSU.”

Lanette paused before she answered. “I’d prefer if Nikko or Jarvis took up art or music instead. I’m done with football.”

Potter arrived at the back of her car and began to help Nikko unload. “You can’t keep a good strong kid like Nikko here away from the football field. It’s where he was born to be. Don’t try to force a square peg into a round hole,” Potter said.

“We’ll see.”

Nikko and Potter continued unloading until they finally reached the spare tire and pulled it out. Potter worked the jack until it lifted the car sufficiently off the ground to replace the tire.

“Say, Nikko, you didn’t happen to see anybody go racin’ down this road a little while ago, did ya?” Potter asked as he put on the spare.

“I sure did,” Nikko said. “Maybe fifteen minutes ago some big truck came roarin’ past here.”

“Did it look like Frank Johnson’s truck?”

“I think so. I’ve seen him at my house enough the past few months that I oughta know what it looks like.”

“Did you see where it went?”

“If it turned off anywhere, I didn’t see. He was flyin’.”

Potter tightened the nuts on the tire and lowered the car with the jack.

His phone buzzed with a message. He looked at it and shoved it back in his pocket.

911 devils point cal

“You should be all set,” Potter said as he helped Nikko refill the trunk. “I’ve gotta run.” Half of the Baker’s belongings still sat alongside the road.

“Thanks, Phil,” Lanette said. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I borrow your phone real quick like? I need to make a call before we leave.”

“I’ve really gotta get goin’.”

“It’ll only take a second.”

Potter relented. “Make it quick,” he said as he handed her the phone before walking around to the back to help Nikko finish packing.

Less than a minute passed before Lanette walked around to the back of her car and handed the phone back to Potter. She thanked him again, but he didn’t respond, taking the phone as if it were a baton in a relay race. Before Nikko could put another box in the trunk, Potter had already rumbled away.

***

Cal drummed his fingers on the side of Hugh Sanders’ truck. With Sanders tight-lipped about his plan, Cal decided to employ his interviewing skills and see if he might be able to sneak something out of his captor.

“How many grandkids you got?” Cal asked.

“Three,” Sanders said.

“My son, Bear, has two boys that are four and two.”

“What about your other grandchild?”

Sanders paused for a moment and sighed. “Crimson has a six-year-old daughter,” he answered.

“Why the hesitation?”

“It’s not my proudest moment as a father.”

“I’m just doing all I can just to become a father.”

“Well, you’ll screw up, don’t worry. I just hope it’s not as much as I did, especially with Crimson.” Sanders flashed his light back toward the water where four alligators were now visible.

“What’d you do to Crimson?” Cal asked. He was still in the truck bed but moved toward the tailgate before sitting on it.

“Long story.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be unless you change that.”

“She started dating a local football star behind my back. I wasn’t havin’ any of it once I caught them sleeping together. But it was too late. She was already pregnant.”

“A pregnant teen daughter? That sounds tough.”

“Yeah, then to spite me, the guy went to play at Bryant. He could’ve gone anywhere, but I know he went there just to get at me. But he never saw the field. Flunked out after two semesters and was in prison six months later.” Sanders then spit on the ground.

“How are things now between you and your daughter?”

“Terrible. I don’t even see her any more. I haven’t seen my granddaughter in over four years.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, it’s enough regret for a lifetime,” Sanders said. He paused when it sounded like something was walking through the woods. He shined his light on a doe scampering through the forest. “That’s why I’m not livin’ with regret any more.”

“So that’s why I’m here?” Cal asked.

“Exactly. I’m gonna make sure not another kid from around here goes and gets their life screwed up at that school.”

“And that’s all?”

“Well, if they don’t kill ya, I hope you can write a heckuva story and take down those bastards.”

“What do you mean,
if they don’t kill me
? What do you intend on doing with me?”

“You’ll see.”

Cal surveyed the area and wondered if he could escape. He knew he could outrun Sanders, but where would he go? How long would he last before he stumbled into the swamp? Or before Sanders caught up with him? It was risky for sure, but Cal’s curiosity kept him planted on the back of Sanders’ tailgate.

“So, you’re saying I’m bait?” Cal asked.

“Yep.”

“What’s this really all about?”

“I think you know,” Sanders said as he flicked his flashlight on and shined it on the water. Five alligators now gathered near the shore’s edge.

“That’s a grand assumption since I was just trying to help a woman who’d just lost her son fix her tire before you grabbed me. Before that I was on my way out of town so my boss wouldn’t fire me for sneaking back down here against his wishes.”

“I think you know more than you’re lettin’ on.”

“I wish you could read my mind and tell me what I know—cause I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sanders walked near the truck and pulled out a phone. “Just watch this and you’ll figure it out.” Sanders pushed play on the phone and a video started.

It was Tre’vell Baker’s footage of Bryant University running back Taylor Harmon taking money for point shaving.

Cal sat stunned once the video finished. It was journalism gold. He could almost see his name on another plaque for his national award-winning story—and on the cover of a new book. “Do you think this is why Baker got killed?”

“Maybe. If this video ever goes public, it’ll ruin the careers—and lives—of several coaches and players, if not the entire Bryant program all together.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

“While there’s definitely some truth to that, I’ve learned that there’s always something more you can get out of a situation like this.”

“Such as?”

“You’ll see.”

“You think I won’t write about this now?”

“Not if I give you a better story—and you’ve got no evidence to prove this.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t write it anyway and cite myself as a deep source?”

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are, Mr. Cal Murphy,” Sanders said. He shined the flashlight into the water. All five alligators remained motionless in the water. “You’re a journalist with a bright future ahead of you, but need I remind you that any attempt to cross me would mean you’d be taking on the entire University of Alabama. And if that doesn’t frighten you, I’m afraid you haven’t been in the south long enough to know fried okra from chitlins.”

“So, what’s this better story?”

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll tell you how many NCAA rules Florida broke to get their latest Heisman Trophy winner—and how many laws he broke that disappeared off his record before they signed him.”

Cal couldn’t get past Sanders’ first clause. “Stop saying,
if I make it out of here alive.
This cryptic talk is ridiculous. Quit jerking me around. Tell me what the plan is.”

“Just keep quiet and do as you’re told. You’ll be fine soon enough if things go as intended.”

Sanders shined his light back onto the water. Six sets of alligator eyes now peered over the dark waters in Devil’s Point.

Cal seethed as he pondered how to escape. Nothing ever went like it was supposed to go.

CHAPTER 34

FIVE MINUTES LATER, the headlights of another vehicle shone on the main road. It looked like a truck to Cal, but he couldn’t be sure what kind or whose it was. But Sanders recognized the visitor.

“OK, get ready,” Sanders said. “Just be quiet and leave the talking up to me.”

Sanders meandered toward the oncoming truck, waving the flashlight at the driver. The truck then turned off the main road and rambled over the bumpy terrain until it stopped a few yards short of Sanders, who stood a few feet in front of the back of his truck. Cal remained motionless on the tailgate of Sanders’ truck as he hoped this nightmare would end soon.

The driver turned off the engine but left the headlights on. He climbed out of the vehicle, his feet landing with a thud in the marshy terrain. Sanders shined a light on the man. It was Frank Johnson.

“I’ve got half a mind to feed you to those gators,” Johnson yelled at Sanders as he climbed out of his truck and slammed the door.

“I doubt it’d be the first time you did somethin’ like that,” Sanders said. He edged closer toward Johnson as he shined his flashlight onto the pistol in his hand.

“What is this? A set up?” Johnson said as he gestured toward Sanders’ gun.

“That’s your department, pal. I’m just playing my part.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know, but I didn’t invite you out here to get into a tit-for-tat. You’re here to discuss the transfer of some evidence.” Sanders held up a phone. “It seems like there’s more than one copy of video footage showing some indiscretions by the Bryant coaching staff. And I thought maybe we could make a deal.”

“What kind of deal are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m talkin’ about a gentleman’s agreement between me and you, Alabama and Bryant.”

“Go on.”

“I’ll give you the last remaining copy in circulation of Taylor Harmon taking money from one of your coaches in exchange for the promise that Bryant abandon all its recruiting efforts in lower Louisiana. Anything from New Orleans on down across the entire state is off limits. I’ll be holding one copy in a secure location in case this agreement is ever breached.”

Cal sat stunned. This isn’t how he suspected the confrontation to go between Sanders and Johnson.
A recruiting cease and desist?
A kid may have lost his life over this video and now it’s being traded for something like this? Something didn’t seem right.

Johnson grunted and paused before he spoke. “Say I get Coach Gardner to agree to this, we’ve already got a verbal commitment from Deshawn Hightower, the top overall quarterback in the country out of Edna Karr High. We can’t just ditch him.”

“You will if you want this footage. I didn’t say it’d be easy, but it’s a nice alternative to having the NCAA sniffing around your program, much less the feds. There’s always more dirty laundry to be found, and you can bet they’ll find it all.”

Johnson nodded and took a deep breath. He put his hands on his hips. “Looks like you win, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“What to do about him,” Johnson said as he pointed at Cal.

“He’s part of the deal,” Sanders answered. “You can do whatever you want with him or make your own deal with him. He’s all yours now.”

Cal panicked. He made a quick move to jump out of the truck bed before he heard a noise that froze him in his tracks.

Click.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Johnson said.

Cal turned around slowly to see Johnson aiming a gun at him. He then looked at Sanders. “You lyin’, back-stabbin’, son of a—”

“Now, now, Mr. Murphy. No need to be callin’ anybody any names. We’re out here on business, just like you were. Diggin’ through other people’s trash can leave you with a stench that’s difficult to wash off. And you stink to high heaven, son.”

“What about that story you were gonna give me if I kept my mouth shut?” Cal asked Sanders.

“Perhaps Frank has one for ya. And as long as it’s not about Alabama, he’s well within his means to strike any deal he wants with you regardin’ such information.”

Cal looked at Johnson, who now wore a mischievous grin. “Well?”

“Well what? I don’t have any plans to be striking any deals with the likes of you. I’ve got something else in mind.”