Dead in the Water (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 4) (2 page)

Despite their friendship, Baker kept the full extent of Bryant’s offer to himself. He didn’t want jealousy to come between he and Dixon when the real joy of this opportunity was getting to play football together in college. Dixon’s loose lips already shared that Bryant coaches promised him a car and a sizeable stipend under the table each week. There was also a summer internship at a car dealership that paid above average and included a flexible schedule. They both understood that deal—a healthy paycheck whether or not you showed up for work. Dixon saw a way to better his future; Baker wanted a better future for his entire family.

Yet during their recruiting visit, Baker saw something, something terrible. He wasn’t supposed to see it, but it was the kind of thing he couldn’t un-see or un-know. Baker was goofing around on his smart phone—one given to him a few months earlier by a Bryant University booster—and happened to record a video of it. Nobody knew he knew, except Dixon. On the way home, Baker showed the video to Dixon. Its contents scared Dixon so much that he suggested that maybe they should look elsewhere. Baker felt conflicted, knowing that such a decision meant his family may not get all they were dreaming of—and neither would Dixon. But Baker had to draw the line somewhere, and Bryant University had obliterated the line. For Baker, Bryant had committed the unpardonable sin.

The weight of Baker’s decision rested heavily upon him. It was almost all he thought about since he and Dixon reneged on their commitment to play at Bryant.
Where would he go? What would happen to his family? Could his brothers make it out of the bayou with their heads still screwed on straight?
There were no answers, only wild speculation that kept Baker up at night and left him unfocused during the day.

That’s why the adventures of a first grader were a welcome break for Baker. Jarvis was young but he could spin some yarn, making a mundane trip across the monkey bars seem as exciting as Vasco da Gamma circumnavigating Africa.

“Did you talk to any girls today?” Baker asked.

“Ewww. No way,” Jarvis said. “One of them tried to talk to me, but I told her I’d rather kiss a dead fish.”

Baker laughed. “Speakin’ of fish, you wanna do some fishin’ before mom gets home?”

Jarvis nodded with exuberance. He darted ahead to the dilapidated shed that held all the family’s fishing gear.

Baker knew he’d miss fishing in the bayou. It was a sanctuary of sorts, a level playing field for everyone casting their bait into the dark waters and hoping to pull out a tale-worthy fish. There were no expectations on Baker here. No touchdowns to score, no coaches to impress, no dreams hanging in the balance. Just a kid and his rod and some bait. Compared to fishing, everything else in Baker’s life seemed complicated.

By the time Baker reached the family’s run-down dock, Jarvis was already sitting on one of the rickety boards and baiting his hook. Baker checked his little brother’s attempt to secure a chicken liver on his hook before letting him toss it into the water. The chicken liver wasn’t going anywhere without a firm bite from a channel catfish lurking in the murky waters below.

Baker sat down and took a deep breath. He smiled and rubbed Jarvis on the head.

“You’re all right, you know that?” Baker said.

Jarvis nodded and smile, yet kept his gaze on the water, waiting for a strike from some unlucky catfish.

Baker looked up at the trees and the sky, which was quickly fading from bright blue to hues of light red. If not for the shrill chirps from the short-billed Dowitchers, the only audible sound would’ve been the faint current pushing the bayou’s waters along.

Baker looked at Jarvis with pride. He knew his little brother was special and was going to be the best athlete in the family one day. Yet he was unsure just how much of a chance Jarvis would have, stuck in the bayou his whole life. Just like the ecosystem surrounding him, life in the bayou was fragile. One bad hurricane or one failed fishing outfitter and Saint-Parran might join a list of growing ghost towns deep within Louisiana’s bayou. And then what? Could their mother adapt? Where would she go? How would she provide for her boys? He couldn’t help but feel guilty over his decision to spurn Bryant University as he looked at his baby brother. Maybe he could change his mind, restore his original commitment—if the offer still stood. But he just couldn’t. Baker couldn’t shake what he saw and it went against every fiber of his being. Bryant University was a dirty program with dirty coaches. And if the program’s indiscretions ever drew the watchful eye of the NCAA, Baker knew his mom and brothers would be on the first bus back to the bayou.

So much for a few peaceful moments fishing.

Baker snapped out of his funk when a splash in the water led to an excited yelp from Jarvis. Baker scrambled to his feet and steadied Jarvis’ rod as they fought a feisty catfish dancing beneath the water. Jarvis slowly reeled in the fish. Baker grabbed the net and scooped the fish with it. The catfish twitched and flopped on the deck as Jarvis stared wide-eyed at his catch.

“I think that’s the biggest one I’ve ever caught!” Jarvis said.

Baker smiled and gave Jarvis a one-armed hug. The catfish looked about eighteen inches long, but Baker was sure that by the time Jarvis arrived at school on Monday and began retelling his exploits, the fish would grow an additional eighteen inches.

For a brief moment, Baker forgot all about his troubles and the decisions bearing on him. Sheer joy consumed his thoughts as he watched Jarvis dance delicately on the shaky dock. It was the last thing Baker thought about before a bullet exploded into the back of his head and sent him headlong into the bayou.

CHAPTER 2

IT HAD BEEN TWO YEARS since Cal Murphy accepted a job at the
Atlanta Journal-Constitution
and moved east. Becoming an enterprise reporter for the sports department meant more freedom that he’d ever had in his career. Freedom to chase down fragile leads. Freedom to pursue injustices that would otherwise slip under the radar. Freedom to explore the kind of stories that attracted him to journalism in the first place. It breathed new life into Cal as a journalist. Meanwhile, the rest of his life was on hold, stifled by the kind of cruelty dished out exclusively by the likes of Mother Nature, acts of God, and Lady Unluck.

When Cal proposed to his girlfriend, Kelly Mendoza, he sensed a change in his life. For once, things were going his way. He had the type of job he always dreamed of—and now the girl, too. Just before proposing to Kelly, Cal concluded an investigative report that rocked the NFL, revealing a performance enhancing drug cover-up that shook up the league’s policies and landscape of the cheating teams. It also created an intense bidding war for his services as a writer. To top it off, Kelly said yes—and they were off on an adventure in the deep South, this time together.

Cal was mildly shocked at Kelly’s eagerness to join him without a job of her own. Kelly had worked for the Associated Press as a photographer in southern California but left knowing there were no openings in Atlanta. Cal figured it would be easy for someone as talented as her to find a job somewhere, if not as a freelance photographer. During their first year in Atlanta, she managed to pick up a few jobs here and there, but nothing permanent—and nothing that paid much of anything. Cal watched as it sent Kelly spiraling into depression.

After a year, Kelly came to Cal with an idea, something to give her purpose since her photography career seemed to be disappearing.

“Cal, I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Boredom. It’s driving me crazy.”

“What do you propose we do about it?”

“I want a baby.”

Anxious to become a father, Cal agreed. But it wasn’t long before the couple realized something was wrong. A trip to the fertility specialist confirmed their worst fear: Kelly would likely never get pregnant.

“There’s only one procedure that’s had much success correcting your condition, Kelly,” the doctor told them.

“What are our chances if it works?” Cal asked.

“If the procedure goes well, couples get pregnant within a year about eighty percent of the time.”

“So is there any downside to this?” Kelly asked.

“It’s an elective surgery and is rarely covered by your insurance.”

“Is that a problem?” Cal asked.

“No, but it’s an expensive surgery.” He slid a paper across the desk that detailed the costs.

They left the doctor’s office searching for ideas for how they could come up with an extra $40,000.

Cal calculated that even if Kelly took a job at a small newspaper, it would still take two years before she could earn enough money for the surgery. And then there was always the gruesome reality that the surgery might not work. It was too much of a risk in his mind, too long to put their life on hold. Cal wasn’t sure how much longer Kelly would last before the dark depression brooding over her stole her last shred of joy. He needed another solution—a quick one.

As he pondered where he could come up with such a large amount of money so quickly, Cal received a call from Barry Anderson, one of his college buddies.

“Barry Anderson? To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“It’s been far too long, Cal.”

“So, what are you doing these days?”

“I’m not developing a reputation as the best investigative sports journalist in the business, that’s for sure.”

Cal laughed. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I don’t, but I was wondering if you could help me with a book I’m working on. I need some background on your story about the L.A. Stars a while back.”

Cal didn’t mind sharing notes with Anderson, who’d been a good friend in college. Though they had spoken in recent years, Anderson’s call testified to the strength of their relationship.

“Before I let you go, I’ve got a question for you,” Cal said.

“Shoot.”

“I’d like to get into writing books myself. It’s a long story, but I need to come up with a large amount of money and fast—and I think a book deal would be a great way to do that.”

“Gambling again, Cal?”

Cal chuckled. “No, I quit betting and playing beer pong our senior year.”

“You were a drag that last year of college.”

“Seriously, do you think you can help me?”

Anderson gave Cal a few names of literary agents, thanked him for the information and wished him good luck.

Cal reached out to several literary agents but heard nothing. He was almost ready to begin looking for a higher paying job elsewhere when one of the literary agents he’d spoken with a few weeks before contacted him.

“Mr. Murphy?”

“Yes?” Cal answered.

“This is Mike Nicholson from Nicholson & Associates. We spoke briefly about your interest in writing some sports-related books.”

“Yes, I remember. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thanks. And yourself?”

“I’m all right. Still wracking my brain for a book idea that could get published.”

“Well, I think I found a potential one for you and wanted to see if you were interested.”

“Oh? Tell me about it.” Cal sat down at his desk and pulled out a note pad, ready to hear the big idea.

“While college football recruiting has become a hot commodity as it pertains to reader interest among newspapers and sports websites, very few books are being written about it. And for good reason—recruiting coverage builds toward signing day and then it’s over.”

“Yes, I know,” Cal said. “I hate covering recruiting. A bunch of seventeen- and eighteen-year-old boys who are indecisive and easily swayed make for a maddening few months of work.”

“Very true. However, there is a side to recruiting that hasn’t been covered much—the dark side. And I’ve got a publisher who wants a book on the dark side of recruiting.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean, he wants a book that exposes the dirty tactics and cheating ways of major universities. However, he’ll settle for the story of one school.”

“One school? Everybody does it. Why just one?”

“In this case, the publisher thinks he sees potential in a story brewing down in Louisiana that could make for one heckuva book on recruiting.”

“And what story is that?”

“The murder of Louisiana five-star recruit Tre’vell Baker.”

“Recruits getting murdered before signing day isn’t common but it has happened before.”

“True, but there’s something about this story that doesn’t pass the smell test. For starters, the Baker kid was committed to Bryant University before suddenly reneging on his commitment. Then he winds up dead a week later after rumors emerged that he was going to Alabama instead.”

“Perhaps that’s just coincidence?”

“Coincidence? I thought I was talking to Cal Murphy, journalist extraordinaire who’s found enough dirt on sports figures in the past few years to fill a pig farm’s mud pit.”

“You are, Mr. Nicholson. But conspiracy theories abound in college football. And even when you know a school is cheating, the NCAA struggles to prove it.”

“Sure. But cheating is one thing—murder is another.”

“What makes you so sure that the Baker kid’s murder is directly tied to dirty recruiting?”

“The publisher said he just has a hunch.”

“And who’s the publisher?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, but let’s just say he’s willing to pay you a handsome advance if this story is true.”

“Define handsome.”

“Nothing definitive yet, but he said it will be six figures.”

Cal gasped but remained quiet.

“Cal? Are you there?” Nicholson asked.

“Yes, I’m here,” he answered.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think I’ll talk to my editor about it and get back with you.”

Cal hung up and tried to temper his excitement. He then ran into the kitchen to tell Kelly.

He then spent the next few minutes trying to temper her excitement as they hugged and dreamed of the possibilities.

“Nothing is for certain, but I’m going to convince my editor to let me go down to Louisiana and check it out,” Cal said.