Month: August 2024

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 40

The sun was beaming through the open curtains when I was awakened to a vibrating phone.  I noticed it was nearly 8:00 a.m.  Camilla wasn’t in bed although she didn’t have to work today.  It was Blair.

“Good morning Blair.”  My voice was naturally deep.  Especially, from having not said a word since right before midnight.

“Are you still in bed?”

“Just getting up.  Long week.  What’s up?  It’s still early.”  I said, now sitting on the side of the bed.  Still naked.

“Brilliant me brought Adam’s little baby home with me for the weekend.  Unlike you, it couldn’t sleep past seven.  Roger and Jake are both on the move.”  Blair went on to tell me that Jake started things off in his Tahoe going to Grumpy’s Diner for breakfast.  On the way he had called Roger who was apparently in Guntersville at his lake house.  They agreed to meet at 10:00 at a place called Meadowlark. 

“That’s Roger’s horse farm.”  I said.

“Connor, is it too much to ask for you to babysit the iPad for a few hours?  Mom and I had planned on going to the Gadsden Mall.”

“I was about to say I would come get the iPad.  I need to listen in.  This could be significant.  Can you leave the iPad on my desk?  Say, in twenty minutes?”  I asked.

“Consider it done.  Let me know if you want me to keep it the rest of the weekend.”

“I will and thanks for calling.”

By 8:45, I was at the office sitting at my desk listening to Jake’s earlier call to Roger.  I was glad the Open Curtains App stored the phone conversations for later review.  Apparently, Jake had made a phone call last night too.  Blair missed this notification or had ignored it.  I didn’t blame her, given the frequency of one of the six vehicles involved.  This time, Stone was in his police cruiser.  It was a quick call and all he said after a male voice answered was, “He’s at the lake house and I’m going to do my best to meet him in the morning.”

The male voice responded, “do whatever you need to do to get him on board.  My noose is tightening.”

I had replayed this conversation twice when Adam’s iPad chirped.  This time it was Roger.  I was thankful he was in his Cadillac.  This reminded me that I had been negligent in not someway attaching an Open Curtains device to his F250 Ford pickup.  I had seen him driving it at least two times in the past week.

“Stone, it’ll be 10:30 before I’ll be there.  Got to run by the office first.”   This was Roger calling Stone who could have been anywhere.

“Okay but be there.  This is important.”  Speaker phones must have been invented by a detective.

It was now 9:15 and I had sat long enough.  I decided to drive past Jake Stone’s house on Tami Street to see if he was home. 

Ten minutes later I learned he wasn’t, but his police cruiser and another car I figured was Sandra’s was parked in the driveway.  There was no sign of Jake and his black Tahoe.

I drove to McDonald’s and bought a cup of coffee and two sausage and egg burritos from the drive-through and parked facing Highway 168.

As I ate and waited I recalled how helpful Marissa had been, and generous.  She was the one who had discovered the invoice for the Verizon service contract for Adam’s iPad.  If she hadn’t continued paying the $69.00 every month I wouldn’t be able to listen live unless I was connected to a Wi-Fi.

A few minutes before 10:00 I walked inside McDonald’s and relived myself of some coffee.  When I returned to my truck I learned Roger was on the move.  For ten minutes no conversation.  I switched to GPS mode and saw he was halfway between Guntersville and Albertville on Highway 205.  I watched his blue dot all the way to the Boaz Industrial Park.  Roger parked and spent maybe five or six minutes inside his office building before he started rolling again.  When he turned left off Highway 168 onto Highway 179 the App chirped.  This was it’s signal there was an active audio recording in progress.  I switched the App and picked up the conversation.  I could re-listen to the first part later.

“… damn better help him.”  Not Roger.

“Why in the hell haven’t you told me this earlier.”  Roger.

“I didn’t know until Russell confessed to me last night.”  Now, I knew the voice coming through Roger’s speaker.  It was Alex.

By now I was approaching the turn to 179. 

“I’m headed right now to meet Stone.”  Roger.

“Watch him.  He’ll try to bleed you.”  Alex.

“I will.  Talk later.”  Roger.

It took another six or seven minutes for Roger to reach Meadowlark farms.  According to his blue dot I was about a half-mile behind him.  When he was at the driveway I hung back right over the hill less than two hundred yards from the entrance.  This wouldn’t have worked if Jake had taken the same route.  When I left McDonald’s, I noticed he was approaching from Aurora Road. 

From Roger’s device: “I’m here.”

From Jake’s device: “I’m two minutes away.”

Soon, I saw Stone’s Tahoe top the hill from the opposite direction and turn right and pass through Meadowlark’s gate.  I didn’t think he would have noticed me sitting this far away.

I didn’t know exactly why I was here.  The two men would park beside each other at the horse barn and exit their vehicles.  It would be doubtful I would hear anything.  After ten minutes I knew I was right.  Nothing, not a word.  I stayed put for another few minutes.  Then, I saw both vehicles, Roger’s Cadillac and Stone’s Tahoe pull out.  They turned towards Aurora Road.  I hadn’t planned what I would have done if they had come towards me.  Still no conversations but they topped the far hill and were out of sight.  I sat a few more minutes and drove to the gate.

Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do.  I turned into the driveway and pulled up to the barn.  A long half-mile plus from the gate.  It looked like I could drive all around the barn but instead I got out of my truck and walked inside the center hallway seeing and hearing gorgeous horses leaning out of their stalls.  I walked three or four hundred feet, past an area marked, ‘showers’ and started to turn back.  Across from the showers was an open door leading outside.  When I exited the building on the east side I saw a large hay barn. 

I walked the fifty or so yards.  The barn was filled with hundreds of square bales of Coastal Bermuda hay.  I knew the sight and smell from my growing up years at Hickory Hollow.  Just as I was about to return to the horse barn and on to my truck I noticed the edge of a rawhide tarp laying over the edge of a bale of hay towards the back and center of the hay barn.  Curiosity got me, and I walked to it.  The way the hay was stacked, all I could see after lifting the tarp was a chrome bumper.  I had moved five or six bales when I heard someone yelling from behind.

I turned and saw Jake Stone coming towards me from the horse barn.  “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just hanging out hoping to sign up for some riding lessons.”  I thought why not.  Why not be a comedian.  I might as well have a little fun.  I was caught trespassing dead to rights.

“You thought I didn’t see you sitting there in your blue ford truck and the pretty little Auburn Tiger tag on your front bumper.”

“Saban had some trouble with my Tigers, didn’t he?”  I said as Stone entered the front of the hay barn.

“Ford, you ain’t as smart as you think you are.  You thought my Tahoe carried me out of here.  Well, you didn’t figure I’d let Carlton Ennis go for a little ride with Roger tailing him close behind.”

I had to ask.  “What you got buried under this mountain of hay?  I bet I could guess.  You want me to try?”   Stone kept coming at me.  With clinched fists.  I felt a little rumble brewing.

“You’re trespassing, and I could arrest you.”

“I doubt you will.  Might bring some unwanted attention on your extra-curricular activities, including the murder of Adam Parker.”

“Ford, you don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”  Stone was now in my space.  Standing nearly nose to nose.  “You need a good ass-whooping and I’m just the one to deal it out.”

“You won’t have to go looking far.  I’m right here.  I could smell alcohol on his breath.  He was sweating profusely.  I didn’t get a chance to finish my statement.  He was quicker than I expected.  Two hands came up under my chest and I fell back and hit my head on the now exposed car bumper.

“Get up you piece of shit.”  Stone used clear and concise language.

I was dazed but got up.  I was thankful he didn’t kick me in the teeth as I clawed my way up.  But, he did land a hard right across the left side of my face and I fell back again.  This time not going all the way down again.  A car horn blared.  It probably saved me a little embarrassment.  It was Stone’s black Tahoe.

Carlton Ennis got out of the driver’s side and looked our way, turned and walked inside the horse barn.  He yelled over his shoulder.  “Your beer’s in the front seat.”  Apparently, Stone had sent him on a little errand while he waited in the shadows for me to do a little snooping around. 

“I ought to put a bullet in your head and feed you to the wolves.”  Stone turned back to me and said.

“I think I’d prefer cyanide poisoning.  Like you used with Adam Parker.”  I said hoping to either piss Stone off some more or, if super lucky, get him to make an admission of sorts.  Either way, I hoped we could get back to our little rumble.

“Get the hell out of here before I change my mind.” Stone said.

“What’d you and Roger talk about?  He going to be Russell’s savior once again?”  I realized when the words left my lips I shouldn’t have said a thing.  Here I was confessing, albeit indirectly, to something I knew.  Stone didn’t need even a hint that I knew anything about Russell’s involvement in the falsification of Parker’s autopsy.

“We met to talk horses.  Now, get.”

This time I didn’t argue.  I pushed my way past Stone, walked to my truck, and drove to Hickory Hollow, thinking of nothing but how I was going to determine if the rawhide tarp was hiding a 1985 tan-colored Nissan Quest van.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 39

 Bobby Sorrells had once told me that everything I needed to solve a case was closer than I could imagine.  He had gone on to say that key evidence is like air molecules, it’s floating all around us. 

About a week ago Camilla and I were sitting out on the back porch where I had tried, unsuccessfully, to crawl in the hammock with her.  She said that just because she was lying down wasn’t necessarily a signal she wanted me to join her.  For some reason our little exchange had triggered a memory.  She said that just because a girl drives a van doesn’t mean she is looking for a shagging.  It was an odd statement for Camilla to make.  I had almost let it go but curiosity got the best of me.  I asked her was she thinking about buying a van.  She said no, but she had one in high school. 

The air molecules were floating around.  From my continued probing Camilla revealed that her father had given her a van on her sixteenth birthday.  That was May 11, 2001.  The van was a 1998 Nissan Quest and it was tan-colored.  She had driven it throughout the remainder of high school and halfway through nursing school at UAB.  Around 2005 or 2006 the van started giving her trouble and her father had helped her buy a used Impala.  Camilla didn’t know what had happened to the van but figured her father had eventually sold it.

I had spent the past week, off and on, trying to learn what Lawton Hawks had done with Camilla’s van.  I knew it had to be more than a coincidence that the van used to deliver the dead Adam Parker back to Snead College and his parked car was also a tan-colored Nissan Quest van.  Darlene, Camilla’s mother, had been helpful.  She recalled that Lawton had kept the van parked in their back yard (this was before they divorced) for months and finally carried it to Sand Mountain Transmission.  They put a new transmission in it but Lawton wouldn’t ever go pick it up and pay for it. 

I had gone to Sand Mountain Transmission and learned that after they had threatened to sue Lawton he had titled the car to them for a $1,000, and they had eventually sold it.  When I asked him who bought it, Sam told me, in colorful language “that asshole cop, Stone, Jake Stone bought it.”  Again, the air molecules had pushed some evidence my way.  Now, I wasn’t for certain, but it seemed the old Nissan van used to transport the dead Adam Parker was owned by Jake Stone.  I was surprised that Sam had been able to give me a copy of the van’s title.  He was that much like Adam, both good record-keepers.

Right before lunch Blair paged me and said that Erica Williams was here and would like to see me.  Finally.  It had been almost two weeks since I had met with her.  I told Blair to bring her to the conference room.

“Hey Erica.  How are you?”  I asked as I pulled out a chair for her.

She put her purse on the floor and sat down.  I couldn’t help but notice her windblown look: independent hair and a blistered face.  I also noticed her sun-tanned legs supporting nicely fitting short pants.  I could have gotten distracted.  Then she spoke.  “First, I want to apologize.  I know I promised to call you last week.  Reece and I have been in Gulf Shores for nearly two weeks.  I just had to get away.  Alex didn’t take the news very well.”

“You told him you were leaving him?”  I asked.

“Yes.”

“I hope the trip was good for you and your son.  How’s he making it?”

“Better.  I think.  But, he still talks nearly non-stop about Emma and Ella.  For a seven-year-old, in many ways, he’s stronger than I am.”

“What are your plans?”

“Mom and Dad want me to come home.  That’s not going to happen.”

“Where’s home?”

“Fayette, Alabama.  The arm-pit of west Alabama.  Poor, poor area.  There’s no future there for Reece.  Me either.”

“How did you and Alex meet?  If you don’t mind me asking.”

“At Tuscaloosa.  I could never have gone to college without my scholarship.  We met freshman year in an English class.  Him, the confident, outgoing, girl-chaser.  Me, the homely little country girl.  If the professor hadn’t made the students sit in alphabetic order I would have never crossed his radar.  Erica Willette.”

“You must be a comedian because you are the furthest thing from homely.  I hope you don’t take that as being too forward.”  I said.

“Thanks for the compliment.  You’re sweet.  And, probably busy or ready for lunch.  I just wanted to come by and apologize.  Oh, I also wanted to give you this.”  She reached down to the floor for the large purse she had brought in.”  It’s today’s Gadsden Times.  I wanted to make sure you saw an article that might strike your fancy.”

Erica opened the newspaper to the fifth page and folded it over.  The article was titled, “Glock Siblings Visit Boaz.”  I scanned it, learning that Gaston and Ginny Glock, brother and sister, had visited Boaz yesterday to work out the final details for the upcoming ground breaking for their multi-million-dollar facility to be built in the Boaz Industrial Park next door to the Rand Corp.  I figured the Sand Mountain Reporter would also have something to say about this, but it wouldn’t arrive until after Blair picked it up at the Post Office during her lunch hour.  Also, I should have already heard this from Garrett, but he had to bail out on breakfast this morning.  Sick stomach.

“The article mentioned all three of the Williams’ being present: Roger, Alex, and Russell.  Question.  I have heard that Russell and Gaston were or are friends, that Russell worked for Glock in Smyrna.  Right?”  I asked.

“It’s kind of a long story but I’ll summarize.  Several years ago, Russell met Ginny, Gaston’s sister, at a drug rehab facility in Cave Springs, Georgia.  Obviously, they both had a drug problem.  The two hit it off and Virginia, she goes by Ginny, introduced Russell to her brother.  A year or so later, Gaston offered Russell a job at their Smyrna, Georgia plant.  That’s the short of it and you can easily conclude that’s how Alex got a door into Glock Manufacturing.”

“That’s a little surprising given the bad blood between Russell and Alex.  At least, that’s what I’ve heard.  Has the Glock project smoothed that over, or did I just hear a rumor?”

“It’s a lot more than rumor.  The competition, maybe even hatred, runs deep.  Roger always favored Alex.  He was smart enough to recognize his meal ticket and future opportunities lay with his father.  Rich Roger.  Russell, as the wild child, always butted heads with Roger.  This didn’t mean Roger didn’t help Russell.  If it hadn’t been for Roger, Russell would probably still be in prison from drug charges.  The big divide came when Roger updated his will and estate plan and pretty much cut Russell out.  With one stipulation.  He had to prove himself.  After the Glock project set sail it looked like, even to Alex, that Russell had earned his wings so to speak.  But Roger didn’t see it that way.  I truly don’t know who Russell hates more.  Roger or Alex.  All three are trying to keep things halfway civil until the Glock deal is final.”

“I thought it was final.”  I said.

“I don’t think the money has changed hands.”

“You’re speaking of payment for the ten acres Roger sold Glock?”  I asked.

“You sure are gullible for a private detective.”  Erica said revealing her beautiful smile.

“How so?”

“I suppose it shouldn’t be public knowledge, but Glock is set to make, let’s say, a significant contribution to Alex’s political campaign.  And, I don’t know for sure, but I would bet there is a pile a money for Alex, all of them, if Glock gets the contract to arm every public-school teacher in America.”

I was about to ask Erica more about the controversy between Alex and Russell when her iPhone vibrated.  “Sorry, I’m going to have to go.”

“Problem?”  I asked.

“No, it’s my mother.  She’s out in the car with Reece and he’s ready for lunch.  Mother really doesn’t know how to manage him without me around.”

“Good to hear your mom’s in town.”

“Thanks.  She’s a fish out of water around the Williams’ but her and Dad are about the only people in the world I can trust.”

“I hope to earn your trust.  Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”  I said as I walked Erica out the back door of the office.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 38

 I had read Marissa’s email at least half a dozen times.  I wanted to talk with her and ask twice as many questions, but she was unavailable until later tomorrow afternoon.  At the beginning of her email she had said that since today is the seventeenth anniversary of the worst foreign attack on American soil since the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941, her department was spending two days, along with their students, in a prayer vigil at a place called The Retreat at Center Hill Lake, located a little over an hour east of Nashville in a town called Smithville.

In her email Marissa had mentioned a recent trip she had taken to Dayton, Tennessee.  She said she had decided to visit the area where the Scopes Monkey Trial had taken place because of her father’s frequent trips there when he was teaching in Knoxville at the University of Tennessee, and because of something she had found in the Evernote database.  There, Adam had written about how Kurt Prescott had been instrumental in having the drama department at Rhea County High School reenact the Scopes Monkey Trial.  This had started in 2012, and became an annual end-of-the-school-year event.

Adam had written about how the local and statewide controversy over the play had grown every year, with Southern Baptists leading the opposition.  One thing that fueled the controversy was a young man named Josh Wray.  Marissa shared a detailed genealogy.  In short, he was the great-great grandson of John Thomas Scopes, the substitute high school teacher who in 1925 had been charged with violating Tennessee’s Butler Act, which had made it unlawful to teach human evolution in any state-funded school.  Josh Wray was the son of Deborah Scopes Wray, the great-granddaughter of John T. Scopes.

Two hours before high school senior Josh Wray, as John T. Scopes, was set to take the stage in his final reenactment of the Scopes Monkey Trial, he was found dead outside the Rhea County High School cafeteria.  He had been shot once in the head with a Glock nine-millimeter.

Adam Parker had taken great pains to journal the relationship between Josh Wray and Kurt Prescott.  Kurt was an active volunteer at Rhea County High School when Josh was in the ninth grade.  He visited the school on a weekly basis to encourage students, particularly seniors, to make reading a top priority.  It seems, with the insistence and encouragement from Deborah Wray, Kurt went out of his way to connect with the rebellious Josh.  After learning about Josh’s family background Kurt was instrumental in the formation of a Humanist Club at the high school.  With Josh’s help, the Club grew and persuaded the School’s drama department to develop the Scopes Monkey Trial reenactment. 

At three points during her email Marissa apologized for its length.  She had said she was attempting to provide a thorough abbreviation of her father’s ten-page journal entry.  He had detailed an accounting of the events that had taken place during the weekend of May 25, 2014, beginning with two days of public protest prior to the Friday night Scopes trial reenactment. 

One thing that had caught Marissa’s attention was a man named David Patterson.  Adam had provided the names of every preacher who had spoken at a town square gathering on Thursday night the 23rd.  David was the pastor of First Baptist Church of Dayton.  His cousin, from Alabama, also spoke.  Marissa had remembered me mentioning my own pastor, Caleb Patterson, after the Saturday First Baptist Church of Christ creationism debate between Gina Lane and Alex Williams.  Caleb and David were first cousins.  Caleb as pastor, along with three of his deacons, had driven up from their church, First Baptist Church of Prattville, Alabama, to support David and all the other Southern Baptists.

If it hadn’t been for Adam’s perfectionism in creating such a detailed record of the events that weekend, Marissa and I would likely have never known that both David and Caleb had been the initial suspects in the murder of Josh Wray.  It seems, if it hadn’t been for the influence of Lamar Kilpatrick, the two would have been formally charged.  As it happened, the two were only informally questioned by the County Sheriff.  Kilpatrick was in town that weekend as keynote speaker at Sunday afternoon’s baccalaureate service.  Kilpatrick was a four-term U.S. Congressmen from the Knoxville area.

Marissa’s next sentence, in all caps and bold lettering read: “LAMAR KILPATRICK IS KURT PRESCOTT’S FIRST COUSIN.”  Then she wrote, “as you know, less than six weeks ago President Kane appointed this same Lamar Kilpatrick as Director of the CIA.”  In parenthesis she had written: (“Lamar has worked for the CIA as an agent since shortly before Josh Wray was killed.”).  She ended her email with a question and a brief comment: “Is Kurt Prescott who he says he is?  Dad said in his journal that he had mixed feelings about him.  That he was very supportive of his and Kramer Dickson’s work, but that he also was chummy with Pastor David Patterson.”

Every time I reread Marissa’s email the more confused I became.  It may have been a secondary thought I had been having all day.  Erica Williams had told me last Thursday, five days ago, she would call me today.  It was now nearly five and I had not heard from her.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 37

 I had spent all afternoon in the war room.  Two days ago, Blair had received a call from Marissa who relayed something she had discovered in the Evernote database.  At the time I didn’t know that she even had access, but Blair explained how she had shared the password with Marissa a few weeks ago.  I had come down hard on Blair about making these type decisions without my input but had been too excited about Marissa’s discovery to stay mad at Blair.

After nearly three hours staring at four walls, drawing lines, and moving index cards around, I concluded Marissa was right.  Roger Williams had a very big reason to spend nearly a million and a half dollars to get rid of Adam Parker.  Adam Parker had written about it in one of his journals.  It seemed Glock had multi-billion reasons to court Alex Williams.  He appeared to be the key to securing nationwide gun sales if the U.S. Department of Justice approved the Glock 34.  Seth Jeffers, as U.S. Attorney General was a former senator from Alabama and good friends with Alex and Roger Williams.  From what Adam had written, he believed that it was simply a matter of time before President Kane issued an Executive Order requiring all teachers to be trained and armed.  Alex had someway caught the attention and support of the President with his bold move in Alabama offering similar legislation.  Adam was convinced that Alex was in for a windfall kickback from Glock if they were approved as the only weapon supplier for teachers across America.

A few minutes after five Blair knocked on my door and said she was leaving.  I came out and followed her out to the rear parking lot apologizing for being so hard on her about giving the password to Marissa.  I tried my best to assure her how much I appreciated her tireless efforts towards resolving the Adam Parker investigation.  As she got in her car she smiled at me and said, “I now see that even a client herself might need investigating.”  She drove away, and I pondered her statement as I walked back to the office.

Just as I reached for the door handle I heard a car horn.  I turned and didn’t recognize the car pulling into the parking lot.  When the car stopped ten feet from our back door stoop I recognized the driver as Erica Williams.  What on earth was she doing here?

She rolled down her window.  “Mr. Ford, can we talk?”

I agreed wholeheartedly and invited her in.  We sat down in the conference room.  It was the closest I had been to her since I met her the first time at the Snead College cafeteria after hearing her husband speak.  Then, she looked ten years younger.  Even though she was still a beautiful woman, her eyes revealed her heart.  It was apparent her makeup was losing its battle with the crow’s feet inching from her eyes.  If ever there was a competition for a look of general sadness in a woman’s face, Erica Williams took top place.

“Mr. Ford, I suspect you are surprised I am here.  In a way, I am too.”

“Please call me Connor.  I’m not surprised.  I’m shocked.”

“Before I explain, I want you to know I am here to help you if I can.  It’s been nearly two weeks since I had to say my goodbyes to my precious daughters.  I’ve been and continue to be a wreck.  But, one thing I know is that I’m leaving Alex Williams.  I’ve had enough.  I owe it to Emma and Ella, and to Reece.”

I really didn’t know what to say.  One side of me wanted to ask her a million questions but I also could feel her pain and felt I needed to listen as much as possible.  “Erica, please know I’ve never had anything hit me so hard as the death of your adorable daughters.  I think it had something to do with hearing them sing at the Independence Day celebration at church back in July.  I can’t imagine how difficult it has been.  You are a strong woman to have survived the funeral.  It was so emotionally traumatic.  Please know Camilla and I have been devastated over your loss.”

“Thank you for that.  Funny you mention the funeral.  Looking back, I think that was when I subconsciously made the decision to leave Alex.  I fully blame him for their deaths.”  Erica said pulling a box of Kleenex from her purse.

“That’s a mighty big decision.  I’m not being disrespectful of your decision but from an economic standpoint it would seem you are giving up quite a bit.”  I said.

“Our marriage has been more a business arrangement for years.  I know you know about Natalie Goble.  She’s carrying Alex’s baby.”

“I know.”

“She’s not Alex’s first affair.  There’s been several but as far as I know he’s only gotten two pregnant.  Gabby Taylor from Guntersville was the other one.  That’s when I had the balls, sorry for being so graphic, to stand up to Alex and his family and make my demands.”  Erica said.

“Say whatever you want.  Don’t worry about being polite.”  I wanted to say, ‘tell me more.’

“When he and his father were trying to silence Gabby and her family I already knew he was a womanizer.  I married the man knowing that.  I told him that if he didn’t set me up a trust fund that I would leave him right then and there.  I also told him that every time he strayed I wanted another million dollars.  He agreed.  Maybe that’s another reason I am determined to leave.  I can afford it.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”  I asked.

“Not at all.  Ask whatever you want.  I may surprise you with what I know.” 

“What can you tell me about Alex and Adam Parker’s relationship?”  I asked.

“I don’t think they had a lot of direct dealings with each other, but I know Alex kept up with the public squabbling that was going on.  He would talk a lot with Jake Stone.  It was like Jake was his go-to guy.  They’ve been friends since high school.  Alex told me one time, sometime last fall, that Adam was going to screw up everything if somebody didn’t shut him up.”

“That’s exactly what he said?”  I asked.

“Pretty much.  I never told Alex about the letter I received from Adam.”

“A letter?  What was it about?”  I asked.

“He was very polite.  He said he knew Hannah Knott and that she persuaded him to contact me.  In his letter, he pleaded with me to try my best to stop Alex from pursuing the teacher gun thing, arming teachers.  Adam said that it was a very ignorant idea and if implemented, it would be only a matter of time until something horrible happened.  He likened guns in schools to a big pig with an eight-foot fluorescent bulb strapped cross-ways across its back inside a Walmart.  It was just a matter of time until something breaks.”

“Pretty good analogy.”  I said.

“Of course, all my efforts fell on deaf ears.  Alex wouldn’t listen.  He was hellbent and logic didn’t matter.  He’s that way with a lot of stuff, including his idiotic idea to teach Creationism in public school science classes.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of that either?”  I asked.

“Fortunately, I didn’t grow up Southern Baptist.  Thank God I’ve avoided the indoctrination.”

“That’s kind of funny.”

“I see your point.”  Erica said, her face losing a small degree of its sadness.  She had a nice smile.

“If I ask something that offends you please let me know.”

“We’ve already covered this ground.”

I was liking Erica more.  She was logical and, like me, preferred getting to the point.  “I’m pretty sure Roger was directly involved in Adam’s death.  I know he was instrumental in having his autopsy falsified.  What can you tell me about Alex’s role in any of this?”

“Sounds more like Roger.  He was always trying to protect his two sons.  If Alex was involved it’ll be harder to prove.  He is sly as a fox.  But, he’s not perfect.  Look at this.”  Erica said pulling an iPhone out of her purse.  “Someway Alex’s little computer wound up in my purse.”  I appreciated her effort at being funny.

“You are serious about helping me, aren’t you?”  I asked.

“Connor, wake up and smell the coffee.  I said I was here to offer you my help.  What don’t you understand about that.  Alex killed my daughters.  He has to pay.”

“Okay.  I’m on board now.  I appreciate you coming.”

“These are photos.  I know they were taken at Roger’s lake house.  I’m pretty sure that’s Natalie.  I don’t know the two guys behind her.  And, I don’t know when they were taken.”  Erica said.

I looked at the photos and knew right off they were pictures of Beanpole and Tommy Lee following Natalie into the front door of Roger’s lake house.  It seemed odd to me that Alex would have taken these shots.  “Here’s a thought.  Is Jake Stone a handyman for Alex and Roger?”

“My bet is he’s more loyal to Roger than Alex.  Even though he and Jake were best buds in high school, there has been some tension between them.  Before we married, both were in hot pursuit of Sandy Mohler.  She’s now Jake’s wife, but at the time she was married to Zach, Mayor Zach Mohler.  Her affairs with Alex and Jake busted up her marriage.  Jake truly loved the woman, but Alex was just being Alex, feeding his sexual appetite not thinking of the consequences.  He and Jake nearly came to blows over the woman.  Finally, Alex backed off, I guess he wanted a new flavor, that’s when we started dating.  Of course, at the time I didn’t know the real Alex.  Sorry, I rambled. Did that answer your question?”

“Yes, I think it did.”  Now I had a little better understanding of why I had the niggling idea in my last two sessions in the war room.  I had subconsciously wondered if Jake Stone had instigated the Natalie kidnapping, including hiring Beanpole and Tommy Lee to do his dirty work.  Natalie was certain that we had met Jake on Signal Point Road as we were escaping the lake house.  This was solid ground to conclude he was involved.  Now, with this news from Erica, that Jake might have reason to hold a grudge against Alex, my mind wanted to conclude Alex might simply be a pawn in the entire Adam Parker case.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 36

 Camilla and I spent the entire weekend in Mentone.  Depressed.  After Emma and Ella’s funeral on Friday afternoon we almost decided not to go.  But, we had paid a deposit when we made the reservations a few weeks ago.  We ultimately decided to go and avoid contact with anyone to recover from the most disabling emotional attack either one of us had ever experienced.  We returned a little before dark yesterday afternoon after having stayed in the Sequoia Room at the Mountain Laurel Inn for nearly forty-eight hours, leaving for only two hours to visit DeSoto Falls late Saturday afternoon.

Ever since Adam Parker’s exhumation and learning that he had been murdered and the autopsy had been falsified, I had assigned Joe to investigate the intricacies of how Dr. Culbert had been manipulated into abandoning a lucrative medical practice in Huntsville and moving, along with his family, to Dubois, Wyoming.  I had also asked Blair to prepare me a detailed accounting from the Open Curtains App of all three of the William’s vehicles from a week before Adam’s death to a week after.

Ten days ago, Joe had asked me to ask Dalton for permission to review Roger’s banking records that had been acquired through the discovery process of the Sand Mountain Bank lawsuit.  Joe had completed his assignment last Thursday but the school shooting event, along with funerals and my emotional trauma, had delayed mine and Joe’s meeting.

Joe’s investigation had been thorough and productive.  He discovered that a company named Windy Mountain Real Estate, LLC had purchased Dr. Culbert’s mini-ranch outside Dubois, Wyoming.  The forty-acre tract had been deeded to Bart and Danielle Collins at a real estate closing at the law offices of Phil Adams in Lander, Wyoming.  Lander is about seventy-five miles southeast of Dubois.  Joe had researched the land records at the Freemont County Courthouse and learned the subject land tract had been transferred to the Collins’ last January.  Mr. Adams had been forthcoming and described how he never met the Collins, but Wyoming law required identity documentation before land transfers take place.

Adams said that it was a double-closing, meaning Windy Mountain’s purchase and its transfer to the Collins took place back to back.  The LLC was formed in Delaware just five days before the closing.  The organizing members of the LLC were a Lawton Hawks and a Clarence Livingston. 

It was fate or a rare coincidence that enabled Joe to discover the identity of Clara Livingston, or it was Russell Williams’ lifelong bad luck.  Attorney Adams said that Wyoming was the toughest state in America on requiring closing attorney’s to properly identify buyers and sellers, even those, as he said, “trying to hide behind near-impenetrable walls of a corporation.”  If not for Blair and her Evernote database we likely would never have learned that Clarence Livingston was Russell Williams live-in girlfriend from Smyrna, Georgia.  Her real name was Clara Livingston.  Adams had required photo IDs for both Hawks and Clarence.  Russell had done a poor job of disguising himself.  Although he had worn a wig and a fake mustache, he had ignored disguising the long scar on the right side of his neck that Joe had learned was obtained during a fight with a former girlfriend over the ownership of nearly a gram of cocaine.

It was difficult to figure out why Lawton Hawks had made no effort to conceal his identity.  The only thing I could come up with was that he someway had a premonition that he wouldn’t get out of the Adam Parker death and autopsy adventure alive.

What connected things back to Roger was the deposit uncovered by Joe in the mountain of discovery materials at Dalton’s office.  Joe had spent days trying to find something, a check or some other type withdrawal, that could account for the million-dollar transfer to Bart and Danielle Collins.  Bart, rather Dr. Culbert, had told Joe the deposit was made by wire transfer to an account his assailants had set up at Wells Fargo Bank in Dubois, Wyoming.  Joe learned that the source of the million dollars was an account titled Clara Livingston at the Wells Fargo Bank in Smyrna, Georgia.

It certainly appeared that Roger was the originating source of the million dollars and that he had done a rather sloppy job of getting the money to its intended target.  To me, it seemed he had used his ex-con son to facilitate another crime.  I could hear Roger now saying that he had given money to his son to keep from being unfair, given the amount of money he had invested in his other son’s political campaign. 

No matter what Roger would say, any one with half a mind would conclude that Roger Williams was guilty of, at a minimum, covering up the crime of falsifying an autopsy.  My gut was telling me he was a full conspirator in the murder of Adam Parker. 

What cinched things in my mind was what Blair discovered in her Open Curtains assignment.  She had learned that Russell Williams had driven his 2017 Lexus GS 300 Sedan to 2904 Westcorp Blvd., Suite 107 in Huntsville, Alabama on the morning of Tuesday, January 2nd, two days after the body of Adam Parker was discovered.  Couple this with marvelously persuasive work by Joe, I was certain it was Russell that had convinced Dr. Culbert to make the life-changing decision to falsify Parker’s autopsy, abandon his medical practice, and move to Dubois, Wyoming, changing his full identity along the way.  Joe had someway persuaded Jill Traynor, a Huntsville Pathology secretary, to reveal to him Russell’s medical file.  He, as Clarence Livingston, had used subterfuge to obtain an appointment to see Dr. Culbert.  I found it hilarious that Russell had used the same disguise.  In the medical file was a photo of the Pathology Associates new patient.  Seems like Wyoming wasn’t the only entity that believed in some sort of identifying process.

Late Monday afternoon, as I sat at my desk after everyone had gone for the day, I couldn’t help but feel my grief over Emma and Ella’s deaths, slowly subsiding and being replaced with hope that I was on the trail of getting Adam Parker a little justice.  As is often the case in criminal investigations, the detective isn’t always as close to solving the case as he believes.  It would be a while before I learned this.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 35

 Word spread rapidly about the school shooting.  For most of Friday night and now for three hours Saturday morning I had watched coverage by both local and national TV stations.  Since a little past dawn this morning, thousands of protesters had descended on Montgomery, Alabama demanding the legislature overturn the bill requiring all teachers to carry a pistol.  They believed they had unassailable evidence the idea was fatally flawed, figuratively and literally.  I couldn’t quite figure out why the protesters had chosen a Saturday, one where the legislators were not in session, to organize and present their complaint.  But, I realized it was a natural human emotional response.  The tragic death of anyone was enough, but couple that with the horrible circumstances of death at a place of learning and where innocent children should be safely exploring ideas, small and great, it was enough to spur even the coldest heart.  My own heart was broken.  All I had been able to think about was the sweet, adorable, and talented Emma and Ella singing about freedom at First Baptist Church of Christ just a little over a month ago.  I couldn’t imagine what the Williams’ family were going through.  My heart broke for all of them no matter what I believed about their religion and politics.

Just before noon, Mark called.  “I thought you might like an update.”

“Thanks.  I’m a little surprised you’d have much, other than what’s on the news.  I didn’t figure you’d try to see Roger until after the funerals.”

“That’s your way Connor.  You know I take my responsibility seriously.  Sometimes, things can’t wait.”

“So, you have talked with Roger Williams?”  I had no doubt that Mark would eventually talk with him.  I had kept him up-to-date with the ongoing threats by Tommie Lee.  I had figured Mark would have been a little more sympathetic to Roger’s grief.

“He just left.  I was easy on him when I called late last night but told him it was imperative we speak.  The man does have a unique ability to categorize things.”

“Some people call it cognitive dissonance.”  I said.

“Don’t go psychological on me.  Listen, I don’t have a lot of time.  I’m about to head out to the James place down in Sand Valley.  That’s where Tommy Lee was living.”

“I know.”

“Back to Roger.  The bottom line is we don’t have enough to arrest him.”

“I know.”  I said again, not knowing for sure, but I had already placed my bet.  People like Roger Williams don’t get to the top without learning a few tricks along the way.

I could tell Mark was getting a little impatient.  His breathing became more pronounced.  “Roger denies everything about Natalie’s kidnapping and imprisonment.  He has a theory.  That Beanpole and Tommy Lee conspired on their own.  Roger believes Tommy Lee so infected Beanpole, the always up until now faithful to Roger Beanpole.  Its possible Tommy Lee learned, through Beanpole probably, about Roger’s lake house, and choose to use it to gain some leverage over Roger if the need arose.”

I couldn’t keep quiet.  “It sure doesn’t explain who killed Beanpole.” 

“I see it differently.  Why wouldn’t Tommy Lee get rid of the weak Beanpole after you and Paige rescued Natalie and ruined their extortion plan?”  Mark asked.

“You’re forgetting the abortion clinic’s address in Beanpole’s pocket.  I know we can’t prove it, but it’s clear to me that those two, Beanpole and Tommy Lee, weren’t the kingpins.  They were being bought and used.  Roger Williams and maybe Alex, designed and executed this plan.”  I said believing my words one hundred percent.

“I suspect you’re correct.  But, you know it wouldn’t play out well before a jury.  Natalie could only testify to being abducted and held by two men.  One she could identify as Beanpole.  The other she couldn’t identify.  Roger’s testimony would only implicate Tommy Lee and his threats to extort money.  Unfortunately, we simply don’t have anything tangible to tie Roger to the crime.” 

I tried asking Mark if he had learned anything new in the Adam Parker investigation, but he virtually hung up with, “one subject per phone call.  Talk later, bye.”

I walked to the kitchen and could hear talking out on the back porch.  I looked through the side door and saw Natalie lying in the hammock and Paige standing beside her.  I started to walk out and join the conversation when my cell phone rang again.  This time it was Blair.

“Hey Blair.  I’m not used to hearing from you on a Saturday.”

“Adam’s iPad is talking.”  She said, and I jumped in before she could continue.

“Oh yea, thanks for taking it home and giving me a break.”

“Sorry, but I forgot it last night.  Left it in my car.  I just got back from Walmart and it cheeped a notification while I was unloading my groceries.  I normally don’t open it when it’s Marissa.  But, curiosity killed the cat you know.”

“I never did understand that saying.”  I said.

“I thought I’d see what a Professor does on a Saturday.  Goes sightseeing I guess.  She’s stopped for a break I guess.”

She was guessing a lot.  “Uh, Blair, do you have some news I need to hear?”  I was, as usual, getting impatient with trivia.

“Sorry to bother you.”  Blair sounded as though I had hurt her feelings.

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“Anyway, just thought you might wonder as I did why Marissa is in Dayton, Tennessee.”

“Uh, that’s kind of odd.  Maybe, maybe not.  I might give her a call.  Now, Ms. Blair, you’ve got me curious.  Curious as a cat.”  My attempt to lighten up and be funny normally didn’t work.  But, the last thing I wanted to do was offend Blair.  She was no doubt the best assistant I had ever had, including paralegals when I was practicing law.

After we hung up, I continued to ponder why on earth Marissa would be in Dayton, Tennessee?  I filed it in the giant ‘irrelevant’ bin I kept mentally handy and walked out to talk with Paige and Natalie.

Since last Friday’s school shooting there had been a heavy cloud hanging over the entire area.  Fog, rain, and wind had descended as though necessary to clothe everyone with sufficient sadness and grief for the six children and four teachers gunned down in what should have been the safest place in town.

By late Saturday the names of the ten dead had been made public.  The combination of TV, radio, newspapers, Facebook and other social media, and plain old gossip, had created a brew of truth and lies that would perplex an army of trained investigators.  One thing that appeared certain was that Tyler Ingle and Neil Perkins, both teachers and coaches at Boaz Intermediate School, were just as guilty of killing as was Tommy Lee Gore.  No doubt their intent was radically different, but the net result was the same.  Autopsies as reported in the Sand Mountain Reporter (and confirmed to me by Mark) revealed that only one of the teachers, Tamara Elkins, had been killed by the Smith & Wesson 357 Magnum that Tommy Lee had used.  The other three teachers, Beth Harper, Omorosa Kaplan, and Dawn Osborn, had all died because of bullets from Tyler and Neil’s Glock 34’s—the weapons issued after they had successfully completed their training less than two months earlier.  As for the children, both Emma and Ella died by the hand of Tommy Lee and his 357, as did Kyle Underwood.  But, again, tragically, the other three children, Martin Fraiser, Jennifer Silvers, and Heath Johnson, all died from a teacher’s bullet.  

I simply couldn’t wrap my head around the most horrible event in the history of Boaz, and possibly all of Alabama.  It seemed the fact police officer Tinsley’s shot killed Tommy Lee amplified the tragedy.  Of all the shooting by teachers Tyler Ingle and Neil Perkins, not one of their bullets had hit its target.  Again, an autopsy had revealed the facts: Tommy Lee Gore had died because of being struck by one bullet from Tinsley’s Glock 9-millimeter.  In a surreal sort of way, it was as though Tyler’s and Neil’s intent had been to kill their colleagues and wards.  Of course, this wasn’t true but, that is what had happened.

Wednesday and Thursday there were eight funerals in our small town.  No doubt a record.  I missed all eight.  Even though I didn’t know any of the teachers or students, I would have probably gone to as many of the funerals as logistically possible.  Just out of respect.  But, I was in Jackson County with Dalton testifying in the longest suppression hearing I had ever heard of.  Even though I was a seemingly insignificant witness—I had located a key witness early on before Bobby Sorrells got involved—the only thing I could testify to was the make and model of the vehicle that was parked outside the man’s mobile home located at the edge of Skyline when I interviewed him.  What really had kept me in Scottsboro was that DA Rhoades had asked Judge Holt to keep me for recall testimony. 

It was Friday, a week after the shooting, and I was determined to attend Emma and Ella Williams funeral.  Of course, I didn’t personally know them, but I certainly had a connection.  Having heard them sing at the Independence Day celebration at church was enough of a motivator to draw me to First Baptist Church of Christ at 2:00 p.m.  I usually avoided funerals, but the circumstances surrounded the deaths of these two adorable twins could only be summarized as ‘truth is stranger than fiction.’  Surely, no novel writer could have created such a heart-breaking tragedy.  The bottom line, I’m sure, was I wanted to see Alex Williams, and see for myself how on earth he could possibly survive the ceremony knowing that in every cause and effect scenario imaginable, his actions had resulted in the death of his two precious daughters.

Camilla had attended Beth Harper and Dawn Osborn’s funerals since they both were customers of Serenity Salon.  She had cautioned me to brace myself for an emotional sadness like I had never experienced.  It seemed Pastor Caleb, according to Camilla, was the master of funeral psychology.  She said if you come away from one of his funeral sermons not pleading to Christ for salvation, you were a mindless rock. 

As we drove to the church (all local funeral homes were too small to manage the expected crowd) Camilla shared with me how she had gotten to know the twins the last three weeks at children’s choir practice.  I had almost forgotten that after we had heard the girls sing at the Independence Day celebration, Camilla had followed through with her interest and desire to work with young singers.  She had spoken with music director Steven Knott and he had put her to work the next Wednesday night, shadowing Jada Silvers as she led the middle school aged choir.  What added to the overall tragedy was that Jada’s daughter Jennifer, was one of the six students killed in last week’s shooting.

Camilla had shared how she had heard the twins, between songs and at breaks, talk with excitement about returning to Boaz Intermediate School and the fifth grade.  They had just, on August 1st, celebrated their eleventh birthdays and were looking forward to sharing with their friends how they would be singing at their father’s gubernatorial celebration in Montgomery if he won his election in November.  

I can’t imagine how she did it, but Jada Silvers, as a tribute to Emma and Ella, sang “No Chains on Me,” by Chris Tomlin.  This was the last of two songs sung by Emma and Ella at the Independence Day celebration.  As everyone in attendance stood in honor of the two sisters, I could almost see them running across Heaven, in a field of Daisies, happy, smiling, and shouting in perfect tone and pitch:

Like a rolling stone, like a runaway train

No turning back, no more yesterdays

My heart is free, no chains on me

God, You raise me up, up from the grave

The cross before, I’m on my way

My heart is free, no chains on me.

As Jada Silvers repeated the chorus I could almost hear Alex Williams thoughts.  They were all about regrets.  Regrets over ever meeting with Gaston Glock and attempting to motivate him to bring his company to Boaz.  Regrets over proposing legislation that led to the requirement that all public-school teachers be armed with a Glock.  Regrets over choosing to woe and win the hearts of two young girls, Gabby Taylor and Natalie Goble, who both became pregnant with Gabby having an abortion and Natalie’s baby avoiding the same fate by one day.  Most of all, I heard Alex’s biggest regret: not spending more time doing anything and everything the girls had wanted to pursue.  Now, his family was a wreck.

After Pastor Caleb delivered on Camilla’s warning, and Jada had sung another song, this time, the Chris Rice song the twins had sung at the Fourth of July celebration, I heard a blood-curling scream coming from under the balcony.  As Jada had taken the stage and stood behind the podium I had seen Erica get up from the front row and exit the auditorium to the right of the choir loft.  Alex had followed her out.  Half way through “O Freedom” was when the scream burst through the church walls as though they were paper-thin. 

I imagined Erica was so overcome with grief she had to leave, and that Alex was simply trying to comfort her.  Just as the scream died, I saw Hannah Knott and the pastor’s wife go out into the hallway.  As they opened the door I heard Erica say, at full blast, “you bastard, you have killed my daughters and destroyed our family.  I hate you forever.”

I didn’t envy Pastor Caleb’s job as he tried to end the service.  From what I could tell, Alex didn’t return to the auditorium as did Erica, choosing instead to avoid being seen.

Camilla and I decided not to attend the graveside services at Hillcrest Cemetery.  The sadness and grief were simply more than we could bear, and we felt the family should be given some privacy as they said their final goodbyes to Emma and Ella.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 34

 It had been a little over a month since I had heard, via the Open Curtains App, about the hot water Roger Williams had gotten himself in concerning Tommy Lee Gore.  The intensity of this relationship was about the only thing that kept me sane over the past four plus weeks. 

Bobby Sorrells had always referred to this stage of an investigation as Antarctica, after the extremely cold continent at the south pole covered by an ice cap up to 13,000 feet deep.  Bobby had been right.  No matter how strong a case develops, it seemed before it was ever resolved there was a period that every aspect turned to ice.  Rigid, frozen.

The only thing in the case that had any movement at all over the past month was the level of threats that Tommy Lee had spouted off to Roger.  I had caught three more phone conversations where the ex-con had promised he was going to either kill Roger’s wife, blow up his lake house, or tell the world about Alex’s baby baking inside the adorable Natalie.  I hated the baby baking analogy.

I was glad it was Friday and Camilla and I had another weekend planned in Mentone.  I regretted we hadn’t returned since May, especially after I had made such a strong commitment to at least a quarterly weekend get-away.

Just as I was closing my desktop computer in my office I heard Blair running down the hall.  When she turned inside my doorway I could tell something was wrong.  “Listen to this.”  She handed me Adam’s iPad and the ear plugs she was using.  She said, “It’s Jake Stone in his police cruiser.”

“The ambulances just left.  It’s bad.  At least six kids and four teachers dead.”  It sounded like he opened his car door and got out because that was the end of the audio.  I removed the ear plugs from the iPad and turned up the volume.

“What’s going on?  All I heard was several people have died, kids and teachers.”

“The notification came about thirty minutes ago, maybe longer.  I’m sorry but I ignored it.  The many notifications we’ve been receiving have lulled me into ignoring them until about an hour before I leave every night.  At that time, I’ll do my review of all our drivers.”

A squeaky sound came from the iPad.  I figured it was from the police radio, the Boaz dispatcher was saying in a high pitch voice, “Officer Stone maintain position; Chief on his way.”  I then heard Jake say, “10-4.”

For the next five minutes or so I heard him call his wife, Sandra.  He told her about the shooting at Boaz Intermediate School and that it had occurred right as school was letting out for the day.  If I was a crying man I think I would have shed tears for those who had come to such a sudden and horrible death.  I breathed a prayer for their families.

“Stone, what happened?”  This had to be Chief Gaskin.  I assumed he was either standing beside Stone in his car or was in the passenger seat of Stone’s cruiser.

“I was the third officer on the scene.  Car four was in the area and was here in less than two minutes from the command.  Someone in the school’s office alerted us.  I don’t know if it was a 911 call or direct.  The shooter was waiting in that red Ford pickup over there.  When the last bell rang, and the kids started coming out, he, the shooter, walked towards them.  One of the teachers said it was like he waited a minute or so before firing.”

“How on earth did we disable him?”  The Chief asked. “I’m not sure yet but sounds like it was some daring police work.  Problem is, to me at least, it violated protocol.  Officer Tinsley shot the shooter, kids and teachers everywhere.  I don’t know how he did it.  He’ll probably pay like hell for it, but I’m convinced he saved a ton of lives.  But, that’s not all.  There’s even a bigger problem.”  Stone said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Several of the teachers and possibly all the kids except two were killed by friendly fire.  Teachers killing teachers and students.  I’ve had a bad feeling about arming teachers ever since the beginning.”

“Oh my God.  Please be making this up.  This can’t be true.”  The Chief said.

“It is.  Sounds like it was mass chaos.  It’s beyond tragic.”

“I really don’t want to ask, but I have to know.  Who are the victims?”  The Chief asked.

“All I know for sure is that the twins are dead, Alex’s girls.  Emma and Ella.  When I saw them, I was in such a shock I came back here and called Roger.  I wanted him to know so he could go and tell Alex and Erica.  It’s devastating.”

“I’ll call Alex as soon as I leave.  Do we know the shooter?”  The Chief said as the same dispatcher sounded out a request for an update.

“Hold on Karen. Be with you shortly.”  Stone said.  “The man’s name is Tommy Lee Gore.  I’ve seen him around.  A low-life ex-con.  He’s worked some for Roger at his horse farm.”

I could tell the Chief left and Stone started talking to Karen, the dispatcher.  I looked at Blair and just shook my head.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 33

 Yesterday after church I had received a notification on my iPhone that Adam’s Open Curtains App was active.  I still had mixed feelings about having Tony at the Sheriff’s office add my phone number to the App on Adam’s iPad.  On the one hand I liked knowing when either Roger, Alex, Russell, or Jake were moving about in their vehicles.  And, for some strange reason, it was pleasing to know when Marissa was mobile.  But, the notifications were too frequent.  It was every day that I now received half a dozen or even a dozen texts—every time one of the five drove even an inch.  Two days after Tony had added my phone number, I had stopped going to Adam’s iPad to see if the OC’s App was recording any audio that was worth listening to.  It was now Blair’s job to review the content of each one of these notifications.

Maybe because it was the weekend, more particularly, it was Sunday afternoon, and I was kind of bored.  Camilla, Emily, and Natalie were visiting Amy at the Playhouse and I was between novels.  I walked to my study and pulled Adam’s iPad from my briefcase.  I clicked on the Open Curtain’s icon and quickly saw that it was Roger who was on the move.  There was about a five-minute delay between the beginning of the target’s words and the sending of the notification.  I pressed the ‘Audio’ button and listened.

Roger: “I’ve told you a dozen times I will not pay you $100,000.  But to shut you up and show you I’m fair I’m going to give you another $5,000.”

Second voice: “Fair?  Mr. Hotshot, you don’t want to know what is fair.  You’ll pay me the exact amount I’m demanding, or you’ll regret learning about fairness.”

I would have known the voice anywhere.  It was Tommy Lee Gore.  There was several seconds of silence.  It felt like a minute or more.

Roger: “Meet me at Cox Chapel Methodist Church.  It’s on Cox Gap Road, after you go off the mountain, about a half mile before you get to Sand Valley Road.”

Tommy Lee: “I know where it is.”

Roger: “Pull to the back of the church next to the creek.  Be there in fifteen minutes.  I’ve got your money.”

Tommy Lee: “I’ll be there.”

I walked into mine and Camilla’s bedroom and outside onto the balcony.  I sat alone waiting.  I switched to the ‘Travel’ side of the App and watched a little blue dot on a map make its way south on Highway 431, turn left on Cox Gap Road and wind its way down the long curvy road through two-horseshoe bend turns.  No doubt the App used Google Maps.  The church was labeled just like it was on Google.  In less than ten minutes, the blue dot stopped just a little to the northwest of the church, right beside the thick blue line drawn depicting the creek.  I heard Roger mumble to himself as he no doubt got out of his Cadillac.

Roger: “I wish I had the fucking guts to kill the bastard.”

In a couple of more minutes I heard Tommy Lee say, “what you got?”  That was the last thing I could understand, but that didn’t keep me from knowing there was a very heated argument taking place between the two men.  They apparently were just far enough away from Roger’s car and the Open Curtains device to inhibit the needed clarity. 

The next thing I heard was Roger say, “we’ve got a fucking problem.  I just met with Tommy Lee Gore.  I thought he might kill me.  He is hotter than hell.  Threatening to teach me a lesson.”  Roger was now back in his Cadillac talking with someone on his cell phone.

I wished someway the Open Curtains App could detect something, maybe a phone number, for the person called from inside a target’s vehicle.  Nonetheless, the only response the male voice said was, “I’ll take care of it.”

That was all Roger, or anyone said.  I sat and watched the blue dot return to Boaz and park at Rand Corp in the Industrial Park.  Roger didn’t mouth a word during the entire drive, either to himself or to anyone else. 

I walked back to the study and put Adam’s iPad back in my briefcase.  I heard Camilla calling from the kitchen, “Connor Cat, where is you?”  Since our second date and since she learned what I did for a living she had called me that, saying she bet I was as cunning as a cat after its prey.  I was glad the drop-dead gorgeous brunette was fully deluded.

I spent all afternoon yesterday with Mark and Tony trying to convince the DA to issue a warrant for Roger’s involvement in Natalie’s kidnapping.  We split our time between the Sheriff’s Department and DA Abbott’s office.  Every time we would walk some new fact back across the street to Abbott, he would request something else.  One would think that what we already knew would be more than enough to at least bring him in for questioning.  Paige and I were a witness to Natalie being held against her will at Roger’s lake house.  Not to mention, Mark’s team having found Beanpole dead shortly after Paige, Natalie, and I had seen Jake Stone driving towards the house (I hadn’t mentioned that I was not positive it was Jake).  All this and the recordings of Sunday afternoon’s conversation between Roger and who I knew was Tommy Lee Gore clearly illustrated direct involvement by both Roger and Tommy.  I knew when I left Guntersville that Roger Williams was a powerful man around Sand Mountain and that money talked.  I suspected we were going to have to produce a videotape showing Roger admitting his complicity in Natalie’s kidnapping.  Driving back to Boaz, I thought about contacting Sherlock Industries or whoever created the Open Curtains App to suggest they somehow add a camera to their GPS and audio-recording device. 

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 32

 I couldn’t wait to get to the office.  Late yesterday afternoon Dalton had called and said he was expecting to receive by courier a copy of Roger Williams’ second deposition first thing Tuesday morning.  This entire scenario was sheer luck if it was anything.

A couple of weeks ago, over lunch, Dalton had said his Sand Mountain Bank case had become more complicated.  Roger Williams had counter-sued the Bank and Kurt Prescott for defamation.  Roger claimed that Kurt, as an individual and in his role as the Bank’s President, had said he was a crook and a con, that he had paid out a fortune over the years to bail out his two sons from certain shipwreck, and even claimed that Kurt had accused him of having contributed to the death of Adam Parker. 

Normally, in a civil case, depositions are taken once.  Around two months ago, Dalton had taken Roger’s deposition.  Those questions had all dealt with the Bank’s lawsuit alleging Roger had and was continuing to violate his investment contract by overstepping his authority.  But now, Judge Broadside had granted Roger’s motion to amend his Answer, his response to the Bank’s original Complaint.  Since there were now new issues in the case, the Alabama Rules of Civil Procedure expand the right of parties to depose.  Again, luck or fate had opened a door of opportunity and Dalton had gone along with my idea.  It was a no-brainier since my questions for Roger, via Dalton, were relevant to his defense of Kurt and the Bank.  Dalton’s need, even duty, to carefully probe the veracity of what Roger was alleging in his counterclaim was nothing but a gift for my investigation.  At least, that’s what I thought two weeks ago.

At 8:30 I was at my desk reading the mornings news when Blair walked in and handed me a package.  “Debbie just dropped this off, said give it to you.”  The large Bearden, Tanner, Martin & Lewis label on the thick envelope told me this was Roger’s deposition.

Inside the front cover Dalton had placed a sticky note listing the relevant pages, the places where he had asked the questions I had requested he ask of Mr. Roger Williams.  On Page 8, “In 2014 did you pay $125,000 to a Ben and Dorothy Taylor of Guntersville, along with their daughter Gabby in exchange for their silence over your son Alex’s affair that resulted in Gabby’s pregnancy?”  At first, Roger denied the accusation.  After Dalton showed him a copy of the confidentiality agreement (thanks Adam Parker), Roger had no choice but to agree.  Dalton never was able to get Roger to agree that Alex had forced Gabby to have an abortion, since that was never mentioned in the Agreement.

On Page 11, Dalton had asked, “How much did you pay Jake Stone, Sandra Goble, and Natalie Goble for their silence from Alex Williams affair with Natalie and the resulting pregnancy?”  Roger denied paying any money, even denied all knowledge concerning the affair.  Since Dalton and I weren’t so fortunate as to have a copy of this Agreement, there wasn’t much Dalton could do to pressure Roger to tell the truth.  Of course, this money might not have come from him.  Alex himself may have purchased this silence with his own money.

On Page 14, Dalton asked, “do you know Dr. Harry Culbert?”  Roger denied knowing him.  Dalton expanded this question to include Bart Collins.  After about a dozen questions related to the Adam Parker autopsy performed by Dr. Culbert, his sudden move to Wyoming, money and real estate transferred to him, and the falsification of the autopsy report, Dalton gave up.  There simply was no way Roger was going to admit any knowledge of anything even remotely connected to the death and cover-up of Adam Parker.

Dalton didn’t fare any better with questions concerning Glock, Inc., or the recent abduction of Natalie and her imprisonment at Roger’s lake house.  Roger denied all knowledge of any kickback scheme related to Glock.  The only thing he admitted was that Glock had purchased from him a ten-acre tract of land beside Rand Corp in the Boaz Industrial Park.  The purchase price was three million dollars, which, to me, was clearly excessive.

The next six questions dealt with Roger’s involvement with his son Russell’s criminal cases.  After reading the first two, I saw the pattern.  Roger denied that he had played any role in the sweet deals that Russell had obtained from the Marshall County District Attorney’s office.  He denied making any direct or indirect payments to anyone.  The only thing that came close was his payment of $50,000 to DA Abbott’s last campaign.  Dalton had someway been able to learn this but was unable to tie this to the favorable dispositions of any one of Russell’s cases. 

After rereading every one of Roger’s responses to the questions I had proposed, I couldn’t help but wish I had known two weeks ago about his involvement with Tommy Lee Gore.  Since I just learned about this last Sunday, I would have to depend on Goldstein’s efforts, and my own, to determine the extent of their relationship.

After my review of Roger’s supplemental deposition, I was disappointed I hadn’t learned more.

I couldn’t believe I had spent nearly ten hours yesterday at Albertville’s Main Street Music Festival.  Someway, I had allowed Camilla and Emily to convince me I needed to relax and celebrate our Nation’s birthday.  Not only had my girlfriend and daughter entrusted me with protecting Natalie, they had insisted I needed a day away from Hickory Hollow.  The conspiracy had continued.  The two beautiful ladies concluded my size, strength, and skills uniquely qualified me for the best choice to push my dear ex-wife’s wheelchair among and around half the folks on Sand Mountain.

Today, all I wanted to do was sit in my office and see if our air-conditioning system could soothe my sunburned head, neck, and arms.  I wished I had worn a hat so now I might not feel like a grilled hamburger.

At 9:00 a.m., I had Blair walk across the street to Pirates Cove and buy me a large tea.  “I got you extra lemon.”

“Thanks.”  Blair poured the tea from the large Styrofoam cup into my Alabama Crimson Tide thermos already sitting on my desk.  “Gloria said it’s okay to bring my own thermos.”

“I know.  I forgot.  Oh, Garrett said to give this to you.”  I had noticed Blair had a newspaper cupped under her arm when she walked in.

“He still at the Cove?  A little late for him.”  I said.

“He was sitting with that group of old codgers who spend half their morning drinking coffee and solving the world’s problems.  Garrett said for you to look at page two.”

After Blair left, I scanned the first page with about a dozen snapshots of yesterday’s fireworks show in Gadsden along the Coosa River.  When I flipped to page two, I saw an article titled, “Alex Williams is Pro-Kerry.”  There was a photo of Alex superimposed with Kerry Arnold who is President Kane’s Supreme Court choice to fill the slot being vacated by the retiring Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  The article told of Williams speech yesterday at an early morning political rally in Birmingham where he was asked if he thought Kerry would be confirmed by the Senate.  After answering in the affirmative, another questioner had asked Williams what he thought about Tuesday’s firing of the Deputy Director of the CIA and four of his subordinates.

The article quoted Alex as saying, “I think the President was absolutely correct in cleaning out those despicable rogues.  They are a disgrace to our Christian nation.”  The reporter’s last paragraph got my attention.  “The Gadsden Times has confirmed the five CIA employees fired were secretly working on a project they had dubbed ‘Climate Change,’ and that three of the five were former University of Tennessee students who had earned their PhD’s with the controversial Kramer Dickson as their faculty advisor.  The reporter said all her efforts to contact and interview Mr. Dickson had so far failed.

After reading the article a second time I laid the newspaper to the side of my computer and returned to catching up on the news on Flipboard.  One of the featured stories was the CIA firing.  It had taken place late Tuesday afternoon, and given yesterday being the Fourth of July, either the story had gotten buried or I just hadn’t paid attention.  The Flipboard article from NBC News said that ‘Climate Change’ was simply a code or a cover for the true intent of the dismissed group of five.  After an inspection of their files, both physical and electronic, it was discovered the five rogues (there’s that word again) believed the greatest threat to our Nation was the lack of interest in and commitment to following the truth where ever it led.  The five had written a paper titled, “A Plea for Sanity” which not only addressed the need to confront and contend with the threat posed by weather changes, but the threats from an unwillingness by a majority of Americans to rationally discuss science theories related to guns, abortion, and religious myths.”

Once again, I reread.  The mention in the Gadsden Times of Kramer Dickson and now the NBC words that sounded as though Adam Parker could have written them, triggered my request to Blair for her to run a query in her Evernote database.  I asked her to see if the abbreviation, ‘CIA,’ or the phrase, ‘Central Intelligence Agency’ were mentioned in the thousands of pages she had scanned and organized for me in the Adam Parker investigation.  It didn’t take long.  As soon as I returned from the restroom I heard her yell.  “Conner, come here.  Quick.”  I was glad there was no one else in the office.

I nearly jogged down the long hallway to her office.  “What is it?”  I asked.

“Look here.  These are notes from Adam’s office computer.  You know, from the “Deep State” folder I found.  I now have all those files loaded in my Evernote database.  When I ran a search on ‘CIA,’ several entries popped up.”    

“Open up that first one.”  I said.  She did and we both read it together.  Then, I had Blair print out this note and the other five.  I walked to the conference room and spread all six notes out on the table and read them in the order Adam had written them.  I could hardly believe what I had discovered.  The so-called “Rogue Five” had hired Kramer Dickson and Adam Parker and were using their research to develop a theory.  The theory was embodied in the project titled, ‘Climate Change.’  It seemed three of Kramer’s former students, all who were at UT at the same time as Adam Parker, had gone to work for the CIA and had been, along with the Deputy Director, commissioned by President Kane to do two things.  One, determine why most Americans did not believe human conduct was causing changes in the earth’s climate, and second, whether there is a link between that reason and Christianity?

In the last document, which was the most recent in time, Adam had described a physical meeting he and Kramer had with ‘Team CIA,’ his phrase.  Apparently, the four men and three women had met two months before Adam’s death in a hotel in Mount Ida, Arkansas, a town of about 1,000, and as Adam wrote, “as far out in the sticks as we could find.”   At that meeting, Adam referenced his and Kramer’s recent confirmation that their hypothesis concerning God and guns were about as central to Southern Baptist Christianity as Jesus and the Resurrection.  The note listed eighteen states, including Alabama, where the Republican candidates for governor were all committed to pushing legislation that required the teaching of Creationism in high school science classes and to oppose all efforts to regulate the ownership and possession of guns.

Reading this final note spawned for the first time, the thought that what was going on in Alabama was going on throughout America.  I couldn’t help but wonder whether Kramer Dickson was in danger.  I had long ago convinced myself that Adam was killed because of his research.  I made a mental note to ask Garrett what he knows about Mr. Dickson and whether he and Gina are continuing Adam Parker’s research.

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 Case of the Perfectionist Professor, written in 2018, is my sixth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Late on New Year’s Eve in the small town of Boaz, Alabama, Snead State Community College teacher Adam Parker was found dead slumped over in his car. A preliminary investigation indicated the fifty-year-old biology professor died of a heart attack.  Marissa Booth, Adam’s daughter and Vanderbilt School of Divinity professor, didn’t agree.

Four days later, Marissa hired the local private detective firm of Connor Ford to investigate her father’s death.  She declared local police officer Jake Stone had likely murdered her father.  She pointed Ford to a multi-month Facebook feud between Adam and several local people, including Stone and Boaz City Councilman Lawton Hawks.  The controversy allegedly related to Adam’s research that contended that, in layman’s terms, long-term indoctrination caused actual genetic mutations that directly affected future generation’s ability to reason.

Over the next year, Connor Ford discovered multiple and independent sources of motivation to quiet and possibly murder the controversial professor.  Ford learned that a civil lawsuit and widespread public outcry had effectively run Adam out of Knoxville, where he was a biology professor for over thirteen years.  Ford also learned that Adam had become the number one enemy of Roger Williams, a self-made local businessman, and his son Alex, who is a Republican candidate for governor of Alabama.  Adam had discovered Alex and Glock, Inc., the Austrian-based gun manufacturer, was exploring not only the possibility of setting up a large facility in Boaz but also supplying pistols for Alex’s highly touted and controversial ‘arm the teachers’ proposal.

Connor Ford has his hands full enough with these suspects.  Add in his need to determine whether Lawton Hawks and Jake Stone are friends or foes of Roger and Alex, which accentuate the pressure no normal small-town private detective can handle.  

Will Connor’s discovery there is a link between Dayton, Tennessee, and the 1929 Scopes Monkey trial and a rogue group of CIA operatives bend Connor and his two associates to the breaking point?

Read this mystery/thriller to find out if Adam Parker was murdered and how, and what role the long-standing controversy between science and religion had in destroying the life of a single perfectionist professor.

Chapter 31

 I didn’t normally attend Wednesday night church services.  Since I moved back to Boaz in 2014, I had come once per year to hear several local pastors give their best thanksgiving sermon, although I’m sure much abbreviated, and to eat a sumptuous meal one day before America’s second biggest holiday.  No doubt, the meal was my main motivator.

Tonight, I was sitting in a back corner of the giant auditorium hearing a series of prayers, everything from pleas for God to heal the sick and the dying, confessions about unholy thoughts, and requests that King Jesus provide traveling mercies to a group of seniors, both high schoolers and the elderly type, who were now riding and driving to the Mescalero Apache Tribe in Albuquerque, New Mexico for a week of Vacation Bible School and hammer-swinging on two new Sunday School rooms.  Pastor Caleb was kind, respectful, and especially patient as some wanted to stray into touchy subjects, including politics.  I liked how he could manipulate his sheep not letting them feel in the least they were doing anything but exercising their own free will.

I couldn’t help but think that Pastor Caleb also was subject to subtle manipulation.  Yesterday, Camilla had passed on some scuttlebutt from Serenity Salon that tonight was going to be a special service recognizing the eighteen local teachers who had recently completed the State’s mandated gun training.  What had perked my attention was Jake Stone was going to present the awards, a certificate from the church that did double duty because over half of the trained teachers were members of First Baptist Church of Christ and had volunteered to be the newly established security force while other members were praising Jesus for his promise to someday carry them to a paradise in the sky.

Camilla’s news, especially that related to Jake Stone, had triggered an idea that was now a carefully designed plan.  At least I hoped so.  It was now 6:45 and Blair and Joe were no doubt in place.  I had already received two texts confirming Jake had driven his black Tahoe to church and that his Boaz police cruiser was at his house on Tami Street.  Joe had spent the last half-hour hiking the wooded trail from the Sand Mountain Saddle Club to the rear of Jake’s house, and Blair was approaching the rear of the church’s north parking lot as she completed a long jog from her house on Marjorie Street just beyond the high school.

Pastor Caleb gave a short sermon on the importance of complete devotion to Christ, including His command that we defend ourselves against the wiles of the Devil.  Caleb’s Bible text was 1st Peter 5:8–9: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.  Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.”  I thought the pastor’s emphasis on Christ’s command, through Peter, to resist the devil, stretched the original intent, but I recognized Caleb had a job and tonight it was to put a pretty and tidy bow on Alex Williams recent legislation.  I almost let my thoughts wander onto a slippery slope that no doubt would have distracted me from watching Jake Stone, that slope being one where one’s mind begins questioning his faith, the beliefs he has had since he was a child.

At 7:15, after Pastor Caleb had fully convinced every unquestioning mind of the validity and even the honor of schools and churches to defend themselves against the growing crowd of devils, and after Jake had handed out bright blue 8 x 10 certificates, I received two texts, almost simultaneously.  Both said in different words but agreed in meaning.  The Open Curtain devices had now found new homes, both would be traveling underneath the passenger compartment of Jake Stone’s two vehicles.  Now, we could track his travels and his private conversations, at least those as he drove. 

After receiving the texts, I was ready to go.  But, I didn’t want to be conspicuous and leave the service before it ended.  I was glad I stayed.  After Jake sat down, Pastor Caleb turned the service over to Roger Williams.  I guess some way I had missed the fact that he was chairman of deacons here at First Baptist Church of Christ.  He outlined the upcoming schedule for what he labeled as ‘Active Shooter’ training.  Apparently, Roger was taking a cue from his congressman son’s arsenal and encouraging his church to be prepared in the event some disgruntled soul wandered in and opened fire.  Half the sessions were scheduled for this coming Saturday.  The other half for the following Wednesday afternoon. 

Just as Roger walked away from the pulpit and Pastor Caleb stood up from his seat on the front row right in the center section of the auditorium, Roger raised his hand and said, “Oh, I forgot something.”  He then returned to the podium, to, I’m sure, utilize the microphone and sound system.  “I have some special news and I want to give it to you early.  It is scheduled to be announced tonight from all the major statewide TV stations, but I wanted each of you to hear it firsthand.  Glock, Inc., the excellent gun manufacturer from Austria, that also has a large plant in Smyrna, Georgia, is announcing they are coming to Boaz.  They will break ground in less than two weeks right beside my company, Rand Corporation, for a multi-million-dollar gun manufacturing facility.  They will employ over three hundred employees and pay excellent wages.  I think this is great news and, I’ll brag just a little.  It never would have taken place if it weren’t for my two sons, Alex and Russell.  Please give them a big thank you the next time you see them.”

With that the service ended.  I was shocked and surprised, and I wasn’t.  I knew that this was in the works.  I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.  As I drove home all I could think about was Roger’s reference to Glock as “the excellent gun manufacturer.”  No doubt he meant that Glock made a high-quality gun, but did he also mean they were smart to not only purchase his real estate in the Boaz Industrial Park, but to be paying a large kickback to who he believed would be the next governor of Alabama?

Sunday morning came too quickly.  It seemed I had just been in church.  I had chosen to go last Wednesday night since I had an ulterior motive.  Today, it was Camilla’s insistence I go.  Normally, I beg off when it comes to musicals.  I’ve always felt many if not most singers are doing it to show off their unique abilities.  Camilla convinced me this wasn’t the case today since it was a children’s musical celebrating Independence Day which was coming up this next Wednesday, and she had been thinking for weeks about getting involved with Steven Knott’s music ministry.  Getting dressed after a bowl of oatmeal I learned she had sung in the children’s choir when she was growing up.  This was something I didn’t know about her.

After sitting in our spot on the far side of the balcony away from the access staircase, Pastor Caleb welcomed everyone, especially visitors, and turned the service over to the music minister Steven Knott.  He quickly thanked all the parents for allowing him the honor of teaching their children a little about music.  The entire choir, all fifty-eight of them from my count (something I’d learned to do when I was bored) sang “Amazing Grace” and “America.”  Steven insisted the audience stand as he directed the latter song.  I mouthed the first lines, which was all I knew of the popular song that I had heard all my life. “My country, ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing.”

When the song ended, Steven directed everyone to sit down while Pastor Caleb lead a short prayer and eight men passed the offering plates.  Steven returned to the podium and said, “listen carefully to these next two songs.  My Christian friends, as we celebrate our Nation’s birthday and the freedoms that gives each of us, we have so much greater a victory.  Our hearts are free, and we have nothing to fear.  We as believers are guaranteed no chains will keep us from our homes already prepared for us in Heaven.  Again, listen as Ella and Emma sing.”

I was nearly finished counting the number of folks sitting in the far section on the auditorium’s ground floor when I heard their names.  It seemed I had heard them at least twice recently.  Once, from Natalie, when she told me about her and Paige’s babysitting for Alex and Erica Williams.  The second time was Saturday a week ago at breakfast with Garrett and Gina.  She had shared how Roger Williams, at First Baptist Church of Albertville, had mentioned his three grandchildren, Emma, Ella, and Reece, when he was thanking the creationist Ken Ham for his faithfulness in teaching children the truth.

 No doubt the twin girls were talented.  They sang two songs as a duet.  The first was “O Freedom” by Chris Rice.  One thing I did appreciate was the giant screen, something it seemed all progressive churches were now utilizing so song leaders and pastors could assure their audiences an ability to follow along.  I read every word to “O Freedom” as Emma and Ella sang:

Oh, freedom, oh, freedom,

Oh freedom over me

And before I’d be a slave

I’d be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

No more weepin’

No more weepin’

No more weepin’ over me

And before I’d be a slave

I’d be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

There’ll be singing

There’ll be singing

There’ll be singing over me

And before I’d be a slave

I’d be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

Oh, freedom, oh, freedom,

Oh freedom over me

And before I’d be a slave

I’d be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

And go home to my Lord and be free

And go home to my Lord and be free.

I was impressed with the two cute-as-a-bug blond-headed girls.  I could see a lot of their mother, Erica, in both.  I projected they would grow up to be stunningly beautiful if their genes even halfway tracked those of their mother.  Between their songs the adorable girls shared how blessed they were to have so many physical and spiritual possessions.  I will remember for a long time what little Ella said before they launched into their second song.  “Thanks Papa Roger for being a trail blazer like Jesus and enabling my daddy to spread truth all over Alabama.”

Their second song, like the first, was all about being free from worldly chains: “No Chains on Me,” by Chris Tomlin.  Again, I appreciated reading the words on the big screen as the two precious little girls with queen-size voices nearly made the church walls come tumbling down.

This is the dream

A dream for the world to see You

A dream for the world to know You

to love Your name

Lift up a shout

lift up a cry to shake the ground

Shout and the walls are coming down

Yeah, we’re running after You

Like a rolling stone, like a runaway train

No turning back, no more yesterdays

My heart is free, no chains on me

God, You raise me up, up from the grave

The cross before, I’m on my way

My heart is free, no chains on me

Now is the time

Now is the time for freedom

Abandoned by cold religion

My heart on fire

We hear the sound

The sound of revival coming

The sound of Your people rising

Yeah, we’re running after You

Like a rolling stone, like a runaway train

No turning back, no more yesterdays

My heart is free, no chains on me

God, You raise me up, up from the grave

The cross before, I’m on my way

My heart is free, no chains on me

The walls are coming down.

Like a rolling stone, like a runaway train

No turning back, no more yesterdays

My heart is free, no chains on me

God, You raise me up, up from the grave

The cross before, I’m on my way

My heart is free, no chains on me

After an enormous clapping cheer from the audience, the full children’s choir sang a few more songs.  Pastor Caleb then preached a short sermon before he invited lost and wandering souls to come to the altar and receive real freedom.  I thought it was somewhat of an odd choice of sermons.  Pastor spoke about the freedom we as Christians have from being complete slaves to Jesus Christ.  Odd indeed.

After the service, during mine and Camilla’s drive home, she wouldn’t stop talking about Emma and Ella and how they had convinced her to talk with Steven Knott and see if he would let her volunteer to assist with the children’s choir.  Right as we turned off Cox Gap Road onto our long driveway Camilla said, “Emma and Ella are, no doubt, two of the luckiest girls in town.”  I asked her didn’t she mean, “two of the most blessed girls in town,” and she agreed.  While parking and getting out of the truck I couldn’t resist saying, “sometimes ignorance is bliss.  I suspect little Emma and Ella believe their parents are perfect, perfectly in love, and grandpa Roger walks on water.”  Camilla just frowned and walked to the den to a waiting Natalie.

A little before 2:00, I was dozing in the hammock on the back porch after eating a burger and fries our new live-in guest had waiting on us when we returned from church.  Camilla stuck her head out the door and said my cell phone was vibrating.  I had left it on the table beside my lounging chair.

I walked in and noticed I had received a call from a number I didn’t recognize.  It wasn’t anyone in my Contacts.  I turned to go back to the hammock when it rang again. 

“Hello.”

“Is this Connor Ford?”  The man sounded like he was in a public place.  I could hear someone in the background say, ‘Flight 203 to Los Angeles will begin boarding in five minutes.’”

“It is.  Who’s calling?”

“Mr. Ford, this is Porter Gant with Goldstein & Associates in Atlanta.  Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“I suppose.  What does this concern?”  I asked as I made my way back outside.  It was simply too nice to stay indoors if I didn’t have to.

“Mr. Steven Knott, my client, gave me your name.  He said he was now working with you to help determine who killed a Mr. Adam Parker.”  Mr. Gant said.

“I know Steven and we have talked a little.”  I really didn’t feel comfortable admitting much of anything.  For years I had known of Goldstein & Associates but couldn’t yet see the need to divulge anything related to my client’s case.

“Mr. Ford.”

“Call me Connor.”  I said.

“Okay, Connor.  Steven has authorized me to share with you anything and everything about my investigation.”

“Steven did tell me that he and Peyton Todd hired you to, to investigate Roger Williams.”  I said.

“That’s right.  Not only him but also his son Alex.  You know he is a candidate for Alabama governor?”

“Yes, I know.  I think I know but do you mind telling me what your investigation has uncovered?”  I asked.

“We’re virtually certain Glock, the big gun manufacturer, is paying Alex or Alex and his brother and father a big kickback for Alex’s role in convincing the State to purchase firearms for its arm-the-teachers program.”

“I’ve heard some rumblings about that.  What are you planning on doing with this information?”  I asked.

“Good question.  We were getting close to leaking the story but there’s been a little complication.  Steven has asked us to hold off on the leak until we fully explore Roger’s little speed bump.”

“I’m not following you.  What complication?”  I asked.

“I’m sure you’re aware of a local murder, the murder of a man known around your parts as Beanpole.”

“Very aware.”

“We don’t know for sure but it’s looking like Roger Williams had something to do with that.  Here’s that little speed bump he’s dealing with.  Don’t you find it funny when rich men fuck up?”

“Again, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“These guys typically think they are as smart as God, but often they screw up as much as an ignorant dumb ass like Mr. Beanpole.”  Mr. Gant seemed intent on hiding the ball from me.

“Are you going to tell me how Roger Williams screwed up?”

“Seems like he hired Beanpole to abduct Natalie Goble.  Steven told me all about her and how you rescued her from Roger Williams lake house, and how you are trying your best to protect Ms. Goble.  Anyway, Williams entrusted Beanpole to recruit another guy to help with Natalie’s kidnapping.  Roger believed in Beanpole.  I think he had worked for Roger at his horse farm for a decade or more.  Here’s the rich guy’s mistake, or so it seems.  Beanpole chose a guy that wasn’t as loyal as himself.  From what we’ve learned the other guy is trying to extort money from Roger.  But, he is such a man of principle, funny isn’t it?, that he has refused to budge.  The guy is madder than hell and we’re hearing some rumblings he’s the type that could wreck some havoc on Mr. Roger.”

“This guy, the guy Beanpole hired.  What’s his name?”  I asked.

“Goble, no that’s Natalie’s name.  Let me look.”  I could just about see Mr. Gant flipping open a little black notebook to review some notes.  “Here it is.  I knew the last name started with a G.  Lots of those, Goble, Gant, that’s me, now Gore, that’s it.  Tommy Lee Gore, that’s the guy’s name.”

I nearly fell off the hammock.  There was no way this wasn’t my arch enemy.  It must be the same Tommy Lee Gore who was threatening to either kill me or make me wish I were dead.  I finally was able to articulate a question.  “What do you know about Mr. Gore?”

“Not much yet.  We know he’s an ex-con, just out of prison for a few months.  He’s been hanging out with a bunch of low-lives in a place called Sand Valley.  You probably know where that is.”

“Yea.  I’m afraid I do.”  I said.

“It’s going to be interesting how this plays out.  My associates are betting rich man, Roger Williams, is out of his league.”  Gant said.

“What do you mean?”  I asked.

“He’s used to bullying and buying his way out of trouble.  But, dealing with folks who have a structured or even a semi-structured life, those who are trying to keep up appearances in our civilized society, these people have something to lose.  These types are easy to manipulate.  From what we already know, Tommy Lee Gore, has the heart of a true criminal.  He doesn’t give a shit.  He has nothing to lose.  He’ll play hardball with rich boy Williams.  Roger will either pay up or suffer the consequences.  If he chose the latter, I suspect there will be some bloodshed.” 

“Would you mind keeping me in the loop?  What you’re doing is very relevant to my investigation into the death of Adam Parker.  I also have a personal issue with Mr. Gore.  Can I count on you to keep me posted?”  I asked.

“Absolutely.  It’s now part of my duty to my client.  Steven has already made this demand.  Listen, I’ve got to run.  Delta is making the last call for my flight to Los Angeles.  Thanks for your time.  Talk later.”  Porter ended our call before I could respond.