Novel Excerpts–The Boaz Scorekeeper, Chapter 72

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Scorekeeper, written in 2017, is my second novel. I'll post it a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

After returning to my cell and eating a plate of watery mashed potatoes, slimy green beans, and rubbery chicken, I lay down on my bunk.  Surprisingly, I fell off to sleep and didn’t wake up until midnight.  My mind already had a picture waiting for me to consider.  It was Orin Snyder standing before the Smartboard with Judge Grant only a few feet away.  I closed my eyes and saw two blue dots.  I considered how Verizon’s technology had verified that I had told the truth concerning the whereabouts and activity of mine and Gina’s phones on Saturday the day she died.

But ADA Gifford would have no problem destroying any link between this information and my innocence.  I could hear her at trial now, much better prepared to cross-examine Snyder, “you don’t know who was in possession of these phones on Saturday, November 4th, do you?  You don’t know who was using these phones, do you?  You don’t know anything about the conversations that were being conducted on these phones, do you?” And on and on.

I thought of something Matt had asked Detective Morrow when questioning him about the affidavit he had used to secure a search warrant for the house at Oak Hollow.  “How did you know the grave site where Gina’s body was found was only 978 feet from the boundary of Micaden’s 100-acre tract?”  Morrow had said he used his iPhone and an App the National District Attorneys Association had developed less than two years ago.  It was his next statement, made almost as an afterthought, that now had my attention.  Morrow had said unsolicited, “I have this App in my car but I can’t figure out how to use it.”

It was like one of those rare light-bulb moments that you just know you have stumbled onto an oasis of sorts.  Matt had told me a few weeks ago about his new car.  It was a GMC Terrain, equipped with OnStar, a General Motors service.  He said that it’s an on-board computer that can help you in case you have an accident, and even open your car if you have locked yourself out. Matt had said that it came standard with a built-in cell phone, GPS, and Sirius Satellite Radio.  Other services were available for an additional monthly fee.  I had a hunch OnStar might keep up with where a vehicle had traveled.  I knew right then that James’ car, his 2017 Impala, most likely was equipped with OnStar.  If that data was still available, it should answer quite a few of ADA Gifford’s questions at trial.  Now, the most pressing question was, ‘where is James’ Impala?’

Matt and I hadn’t even discussed an independent search of James’ Impala?  This was clearly a mistake even if the OnStar system wouldn’t give us any information concerning the whereabouts of the vehicle.  I was convinced Wade and James had used his car to abduct and dispose of Gina.  She had told me that James had put her into the trunk of his car.  I felt positive that law enforcement had not conducted any type forensic evaluation of James’ car.  It just might be my ticket out of here.  It is imperative Matt convince Judge Grant to order the Impala seized, impounded, and a detailed forensic examination conducted.

It was not until 10:00 a.m. that I convinced my friend, Deputy Owens, to let me use the inmate’s pay phone outside Intake and Processing.  Tina answered and neither Matt nor Trevor Nixon, our new associate, was available.  I dictated a detailed message for Matt and urged Tina to get it to him ASAP.  She assured me she would.

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Author: Richard L. Fricks

Writer. Observer. Builder. I write from a life shaped by attention, simplicity, and living without a script—through reflective essays, long-form inquiry, and fiction rooted in ordinary lives. I live in rural Alabama, where writing, walking, and building small, intentional spaces are part of the same practice.

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