Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Cal and Kelly needed to find a makeshift workstation and fast. The nearest possibility was about 20 miles back in the town of Ellington, which had a McDonald's. Covering the Statenville-Ellington football game the year before, Cal learned that the dining room in the Ellington McDonald's stayed open until midnight on the weeknights and 2 a.m. on the weekends. It was the only eating establishment open late at night in Ellington with the exception of Esther's Café and Eats located inside a local gas station.

When they pulled into the McDonald's parking lot fifteen minutes later, it was nearly vacant. Cal hated writing in public places, but if it was quiet at least he could begin to organize his thoughts and pound out a story. Between the two of them, they had three pieces of equipment: two iPhones and a camera.

"You start uploading photos and video to a drop box somewhere and I'll start writing."

Cal wasted no time and began pecking away. Kelly hooked up her SD card reader to her iPhone and went to work, uploading videos and photos that backed up the extraordinary claims they were about to make.

Most of Cal's story was written in his head so it didn't take him long to turn it into a thrilling read in an email to be sent off to two major metro dailies.

***

Yukon rolled down his window and adjusted the mirror on his black F-250. After all the excitement this evening had wrought, he wasn't too worried about anyone following him. The blood stains on his hands gave him all the reassurance he needed. Statenville's hallowed secret was dangerously close to being exposed. But there was only one more obstacle to make it safe again.

He scanned every approaching set of headlights, searching for a single one, a motorcycle's.

They've got to be out here somewhere.

Yukon understood just how high the stakes were if Cal and Kelly eluded his grasp and broadcast a fanciful story. It was a story that would struggle to be supported given the carnage left in Yukon's wake. Some secrets are best left unuttered, even if the people trying to expose them do so with a custom-fitted tin foil hat. There always seemed to be some shred of truth in what conspiracy theorists claimed. In Statenville's case, a shred could be damaging. Yukon had already been to jail after resorting to crime to make ends meet. Not even a GED was enough to earn him a job as a mechanic in Statenville. But that was before his acquired prison skills became vital for Mayor Gold. Life was good now. And he wasn't going back - not to a life of petty theft and certainly not to prison.

His hair whipped in the cool evening air. Yukon stroked his scraggly beard and smiled, plotting all the ways he would rage on Cal and Kelly before killing them and depositing their bodies in Cold River Canyon, his favorite dumping ground. This time, he wouldn't fail to finish the job.

So far, the long stretch of highway from Statenville to Salt Lake City had been quiet, mostly semi trucks transporting their wares from one Western outpost to another. An occasional car interrupted the monotony with the flicker of bright to dim headlights, but not a single motorcycle on the road.

Up ahead, a city limits sign reflected his headlights. He began slowing down. He didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary at this time of night.

Yukon had arrived in Ellington.

***

"Pick up the phone, Guy!" Cal said. "Why aren't you answering?"

Kelly finished uploading the last of her photos and videos to her personal storage server in cyberspace. She then decided to answer Cal's rhetorical question.

"Maybe he's on the run again."

"From who? For all they know, Guy is one of them, remember?"

"What if they found out he wasn't?"

"They wouldn't try anything on Guy. He's too prominent of a figure in the community."

"That's an assumption I'm not willing to make so quickly, Cal. I think we're barely scratching the surface on the depths to which this town will go to hide its dark secret."

"Well, if they killed him, they would have to kill us, too."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Somebody has already tried it once today. Maybe two groups of people for all we know."

"With all the evidence that we have, there's no stopping this thing now. Statenville will be flush with the 21st Century's version of a gold rush - a national media frenzy on a compelling story that includes a government conspiracy."

"If we have enough proof."

"What do you mean, Kelly? We've got all the proof we need. A coroner's report. Our own investigative videos. Corroborating testimony. Not to mention people who would all sing to avoid a harsh prison sentence."

"I know, but as good as it sounds to us, those editors have to be willing to stick their necks out for us. And what if they're not? And what if we wake up tomorrow and all the witnesses are dead?"

"Look who sounds like the conspiracy theorist now?"

"I'm just saying that we still need to be careful, Cal. Just because we have evidence doesn't mean anyone is going to believe us."

"Don't worry. After I talk to Guy and send this story in, nobody will touch us. Doing so would only implicate them more."

"I hope you're right - just hurry up, OK?"

A familiar engine roar filled the north parking lot. Cal froze. He knew where he had heard it before - the night his car had gone careening off the road. He cut his eyes toward the window and saw a long-haired muscular man climbing out of his Ford F-250. Getting instructions from Guy would have to wait.

"Kelly, grab your stuff and follow me right now," Cal said in a low calm voice.

"Why, Cal?"

"Just do it," he barked in a whisper.

Cal slipped his iPhone in his pocket. Kelly crammed her camera back into her backpack and they exited on the south side of the restaurant and headed for the Vmax.

He turned back to locate the man - and he was gone.

"Hurry, Kelly. We've got to leave now!"