Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"Why can't anything ever run smoothly around here?" Gold barked into the phone. "Call me when you've taken care of them."

"Yes, sir," responded the caller.

Running the city of Statenville was simple for Gold. He told people what to do and they did it. In a small town with a larger than average budget, it was easy.

Keeping the city's dark secret hidden was an intricate web of complexity. He continued to suppress his grief. Riley's death didn't come as a total shock to the Gold family. Nathan and his wife had known for a couple of months that Riley had begun dabbling in drugs, but they chose to ignore it. They never thought he would end up dead.

But that was the nature of Statenville's secret. It chose justification to assuage the town's collective conscience-the few who knew there was a secret to keep. Most people were oblivious to what was happening. Gold and his inner circle decided a long time ago to keep it that way. The fewer people who knew, the less chance a conscientious objector would one day come forward; that and the fact that they were all paid handsomely. Sometimes it meant blood was on their hands, but blood money didn't seem so bad when there was so much of it, enough to buy oneself a perfect life in Mayberry West.

Gold fingered a picture of Riley and stared out his office window. Maybe this secret isn't worth it. But then he looked around at what he had created, what Statenville was. It was costly, but it was most definitely worth it. Instead of becoming a virtual ghost town with a national failing economy, it was a boomtown. People were employed. They were happy. They were living a real dream. Did they really care where the money came from?

Those people never had a chance to decide if it was worth it. They never even knew. It was decided for them by Gold. They were but pawns in an elaborate get-rich scheme that was so flush with cash it opted to line the empty pockets of anyone who dared question them. It was much better than murdering them - and it raised less eyebrows than dead bodies. Everyone had a price. Almost everyone. There were always exceptions.

Cal Murphy had become an exception.