Cross Hairs by Jack Patterson Page A
Authors: Jack Patterson
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, adventure, Crime, Mystery, Nora Roberts, Action, Hard-Boiled, Reporter, trilogy, Deception, james patterson, conspiracy, Lee Child, New York Times bestseller, new release, mystery and suspense, award winning, award, fbi, &NEW, Stephen King, bestselling, cj lyons, Joshua Graham, George R.R. Martin, like John Grisham, John Grisham, popular, Steig Larson, Kindle eBook, like James Patterson, like Christine Kling, deal, newspaper, John Locke, David Baldacci, similar to Dean Koontz, similar to Nora Roberts, winning, like Aaron Patterson, Aaron Patterson, William Landay, punishment, five star review, Millennium, top rated, kindle ebooks, like Lee Child, Andrew E. Kaufman, New York Times best seller, Cal Murphy, like David Baldacci, 5 star review, Amazon eBook, national award-winning, like Joshua Graham, The Girl who Kicked the Hornets Nest, Dean Koontz, Christine Kling, similar to James Patterson, like Dean Koontz, Stieg Larsson, 5 stars, Steig Larsson, similar to Joshua Graham, similar to John Grisham, Kirk Russell, Dani Amore, Mary Higgins Clark, five stars, similar to John Locke, like William Landay, like Dani Amore, like John Locke, like Nora Roberts
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“Got it,” Kelly said.
They were near the edge of the woods and about 200 yards away from the unoccupied loading docks when Cal heard the chain link fence rattle. The gunmen were now on the property too.
Cal could hear the men furiously combing the area, yelling back and forth to one another. He was still terrified, but maintained a clear head about what he needed to do to keep Kelly safe. It was the only thing he could do. His adrenaline surged.
Cal pointed to Kelly where they were headed, choosing to remain silent. But it didn’t matter.
“There they are!” one of the gunmen yelled, simultaneously taking off on a dead sprint.
Cal and Kelly didn’t hesitate. They reached top speed in about 10 strides and didn’t look back. . . until the shots rang out.
BANG! BANG!
Cal hit the ground.
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.
CHAPTER 32
GUY HUNG UP THE phone. Another grilling from Mr. Mendoza. Another order to tone down the coverage of the three teens’ deaths in Wednesday’s edition of The Register . Today, he truly felt like nothing more than a managing editor. No real decisions to make, just ensure people did what they were told.
It also explained why he was getting so agitated with Cal. With his assignment changed to a simple management position, Guy’s star reporter was gone and not returning his calls. Guy couldn’t even do the one thing he was being asked to do that day.
Three calls were made to Cal throughout the early afternoon. And three calls went straight to voicemail.
Guy had been tough on Cal before, but he always responded in a positive way. This time though, it wasn’t elderly wisdom being passed down by Guy. It was a direct command, complete with all of Guy’s redirected anger that went against every journalistic instinct Cal had ever cultivated. Stop
“Got it,” Kelly said.
They were near the edge of the woods and about 200 yards away from the unoccupied loading docks when Cal heard the chain link fence rattle. The gunmen were now on the property too.
Cal could hear the men furiously combing the area, yelling back and forth to one another. He was still terrified, but maintained a clear head about what he needed to do to keep Kelly safe. It was the only thing he could do. His adrenaline surged.
Cal pointed to Kelly where they were headed, choosing to remain silent. But it didn’t matter.
“There they are!” one of the gunmen yelled, simultaneously taking off on a dead sprint.
Cal and Kelly didn’t hesitate. They reached top speed in about 10 strides and didn’t look back. . . until the shots rang out.
BANG! BANG!
Cal hit the ground.
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.
CHAPTER 32
GUY HUNG UP THE phone. Another grilling from Mr. Mendoza. Another order to tone down the coverage of the three teens’ deaths in Wednesday’s edition of The Register . Today, he truly felt like nothing more than a managing editor. No real decisions to make, just ensure people did what they were told.
It also explained why he was getting so agitated with Cal. With his assignment changed to a simple management position, Guy’s star reporter was gone and not returning his calls. Guy couldn’t even do the one thing he was being asked to do that day.
Three calls were made to Cal throughout the early afternoon. And three calls went straight to voicemail.
Guy had been tough on Cal before, but he always responded in a positive way. This time though, it wasn’t elderly wisdom being passed down by Guy. It was a direct command, complete with all of Guy’s redirected anger that went against every journalistic instinct Cal had ever cultivated. Stop
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