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 20
Ever since Marissa had told me about Adam’s Cymbalta prescription, I had subconsciously pondered if his depression had anything to do with his death. Without any basis, I had decided that was why he must have been taking Cymbalta. The extent of my minimum research had revealed this drug was used for treating depression, anxiety disorder, and pain associated with fibromyalgia. Finally, Saturday, I was determined to learn more.
Marissa had confirmed Adam was depressed and that he felt she would know if her father suffered from either anxiety disorder or fibromyalgia. I had spent most of Saturday afternoon on Google. One thing caught my attention. I’m not sure how I stumbled onto a rare condition called Broken Heart Syndrome. According to an article from the Mayo Clinic, it is caused by a surge of stress hormones. What got me really interested in this subject was the article mentioned that it’s possible that some drugs may trigger Broken Heart Syndrome by causing a surge of stress hormones. And, one of those drugs was Cymbalta.
Yesterday morning, Monday, I had called my personal physician and good friend, Dr. Michael Luther. He was with patients and didn’t return my call until last night. I gave him a brief overview of Adam’s health and his medicines and asked if he knew anything about Broken Heart Syndrome. I already figured he knew something; the man is a walking encyclopedia, especially when it comes to health issues.
I’ve learned over the two-plus years I’ve been back in Boaz to record my conversations with the brilliant Luther. I simply didn’t have the mental capacity to both hear and digest what he can spurt out. As had become my custom, I had Blair transcribe the intelligent side of our conversation.
Luther: “Broken Heart Syndrome may also be called takotsubo cardiomyopathy, apical ballooning syndrome or stress cardiomyopathy. It is a temporary heart condition that’s often brought on by stressful situations, such as the death of a loved one. The condition can also be triggered by a serious physical illness or surgery. People with Broken Heart Syndrome may have sudden chest pain or think they’re having a heart attack.
In Broken Heart Syndrome, there’s a temporary disruption of the heart’s normal pumping function in one area of the heart. The remainder of the heart functions normally or with even more forceful contractions. Broken Heart Syndrome may be caused by the heart’s reaction to a surge of stress hormones.
The symptoms of Broken Heart Syndrome are normally treatable, and the condition usually reverses itself in days or weeks, although there are rare instances where the patient dies. Therefore, the condition should be considered very serious.”
After our call ended, I realized how dumb I can be. It would seem I would have already revisited Adam’s autopsy. I couldn’t remember it saying anything about any drugs found in his system. Sure enough, under “Drugs Detected,” was one simple word, “None.” I had almost decided to let the issue go, figuring, assuming (which I knew far better than to ever do) Cymbalta wouldn’t show up in a toxicological drug screen. I think I didn’t want to bother Dr. Luther again.
But finally, my curiosity took over. Dr. Luther, gracious as always, said that Cymbalta wouldn’t show up in a typical drug screening. However, he said that it is not uncommon for there to be false positives found among people who take Cymbalta. The false positive would typically indicate methamphetamine. I provided Dr. Luther with additional details about Adam’s death and the autopsy’s report that no drugs were found in his system. He stated this didn’t necessarily indicate an error, but I could always call the doctor who had conducted the autopsy to see if he simply hadn’t recorded the false positive. Luther said sometimes, where there are absolutely no other indications the patient was a meth user, the doctor wouldn’t record a false positive, mainly out of compassion for the family of the deceased.
Since I was still in a mood of kicking myself for not having looked at this issue earlier, I decided to contact Dr. Harry Culbert in Huntsville. Unfortunately, I would have to wait. According to the receptionist, Dr. Culbert was no longer with Huntsville Pathology Associates. He had retired and moved to Wyoming. A quick search online revealed that Dr. Harry Culbert had graduated from Harvard Medical School in 2000. He had completed both his pathology residency and forensic pathology fellowship at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore in 2006. He had practiced in Huntsville for only eleven years. He was now only 43 years old.
I thought this was rather young for the highly educated doctor to retire. After another hour of trying to locate an online lead to Dr. Culbert, I finally recognized that even if I found him and spoke with him it most likely wouldn’t be fruitful. Whether the toxicological screening revealed the presence of Cymbalta or not, the autopsy listed the cause of death as a heart attack. It sure looked like the Broken Heart Syndrome was the culprit which could have been triggered by the Cymbalta. None of this helped my argument that Adam Parker had been murdered.
Dead ends had always been troublesome for me. For some reason I had thought I should be smart enough to spend my time on relevant issues. I had now spent at least three or four hours on this little Cymbalta issue. It had all been a waste of time.
It had been a week since Amy moved into the Playhouse. I hadn’t seen her at all, not even in passing. I also had hardly seen Camilla. Last night after we got off the phone before going to bed I made a promise that I would start making an extra effort in our relationship. If I didn’t, I ran a huge risk of losing her. She was simply too beautiful and sweet to put up with inattention, especially from a man seventeen years her senior. Tonight, things would be different.
I left the office at 5:00 and drove to Serenity Salon. This used to be my custom but ever since taking on the Parker case, my routine had changed. Again, not an effective way to show Camilla how much I cared for her. She normally worked until at least 7:00 on Friday nights. She was just finishing up with Pastor Caleb when I walked in.
“Hello Pastor.” I said as he put on his coat. As I approached, he reached out to shake hands.
“Hey Connor, nice to see you. Your lady here sure does a good job. Don’t you like my new cut?”
“It suits you well.” I said, noticing that his normally long and thick curls were missing. “Going for the buzz look? Makes you look thinner.” After I said it I realized it wasn’t the thing to say. Caleb was overweight by a half-ton and often mentioned from the pulpit how he was always trying to diet and often met with failure.
“Thanks Connor, that’s just what I need to motivate me tonight. Looks like a small salad and maybe a cup of oatmeal for me.”
“I love oatmeal.” I was running out of things to say. I felt the pastor probably wouldn’t enjoy the joke that Joe had shared with me this afternoon. It contained an ugly word, and two images of sexually explicit conduct.
I sat in Camilla’s barber chair while she and the pastor walked over to the cash register by the front entrance. There was a magazine still in the chair. One, I assumed, he had been looking at. The cover of Cosmopolitan seemed an odd choice for a Southern Baptist preacher, especially this one with the words, “Ten Sex Tips for Stale Partners” written in bold letters across the magazine’s cover. The words were steamy enough but on the lower right and left of the cover, beside the title, were couples wearing not much more than their birthday suits. The couple on the left was two African-American males. The couple on the right were male and female, both closer to Camilla’s age than mine. I guessed Pastor Caleb might have enjoyed Joe’s joke after all.
“Hey baby, how are you?” I asked Camilla when she returned.
“Tired. I was hoping for a quiet evening with you. My place okay?” It rarely ever failed that Camilla was quiet about her desire to be together. I was a blessed man.
“That’s good but Emily has plans so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“What’s she up to?”
“You remember Carl, the guy who came with her back in January when we had our little father/daughter talk about her moving in?” I said.
“Yes. He’s a nurse. He and Emily worked together at St. Vincent’s. Right?”
“Yes. Seems like they are becoming a thing. Apparently, she’s spending the weekend with him at his place on Smith Lake. What’s your schedule looking like?” I asked.
“I have one more appointment at 5:30. I should be off by 6:00. We’re kind of slow for a Friday afternoon.”
“That’s not so good for your pocketbook but it’s wonderful for me. I’m really ready to spend some time with you babe.” I said this without strain at all. See Camilla. I can be open and romantic.
“There’s my appointment. She’s early. I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to remind me to tell you what Pastor Caleb said.” Camilla said tying on a new smock.
“I’ll pick up a pizza if that’s okay.”
“Sounds good. Don’t forget extra onions.” I loved that Camilla was so genuine and open.
I swung by Pizza Hut and beat Camilla home, but only by a few minutes. They were swamped.
As soon as she walked in the back door, I walked over and helped her remove her coat. “Camilla, I have something I need to tell you.”
“Uh-oh. This can’t be good. Tired of me already?”
“You are so absolutely insane. I wanted to apologize for not spending much time together here lately. I plan on changing that. Camilla, you are the most important thing, well, person, in my life. I love you and need you to know that.” I said. I didn’t know why I had always thought that such talk made me appear weaker.
“Is that for real? Or, since we have the house to ourselves, it’s just a line to get me under the covers.” Camilla was perceptive, but now, she was wrong, even though I wasn’t against some naked time.
“I have to be honest. It’s a little scary underneath those sheets. You are way too much woman for me.”
“Now, I know somethings up. Is it Blair or that Marissa woman? You got to be feeling guilty.”
“Should I be honest?” I rarely missed an opportunity to slide in a little humor.
“Always.”
“It’s both. Neither Blair or Marissa can resist.”
“I’ll wreck their resistance and for you Connor Ford, this hot body is off limits to you all night. Pastor Caleb said I could come by anytime.”
“So that’s what he said? That you wanted to tell me?” I asked.
“Silly, if you can be funny, so can I.” Camilla said pressing her lips onto mine. “Enough of that mushy stuff for now, let’s eat. I’m starving.
We walked over to the bar. I warmed us both a slice. She poured us a glass of tea. We sat across from each other and ate, without saying a word until I got up for more pizza.
“Pastor Caleb invited us to church next Saturday. I think you’ll want to go.”
“Saturday? You mean Sunday?” I asked.
“No, there’s an all-day seminar type thing on Creationism. It seems Paige Todd and Natalie Goble have persuaded the pastor to schedule this event.” Camilla said, warming herself another slice of pizza.
“This seems odd. Are they now experts on Creationism?”
“Apparently they are very interested in this subject. Pastor Caleb said a lady from Birmingham, a professor of some sort, would be coming. She’s one side of the debate. She’s against teaching Creationism in public schools. Alex Williams will be arguing from the Biblical standpoint.”
“Did he say the name of the professor?” I asked.
“He did. Lang, Professor Lang. I think Gina was her first name.”
“That has to be Gina Lane. Did he mention which school she taught at?”
“Birmingham-Southern.”
“Yep, that’s Gina Lane. That’s Garrett’s daughter.” I said.
“Your breakfast buddy?”
“Yes. What a small world.” I said.
“From what I gathered from Pastor Caleb, Paige and Natalie are determined to persuade other churches to host this type event.”
“I have a feeling this has something to do with Adam Parker. These two girls were his students. They were also good friends. Get this, they also believe Adam Parker was murdered and that, I hate to say this, but it’s the truth, they believe your father had something to do with Parker’s death.” I said.
“You don’t have to mince words with me. I wouldn’t put anything past the man. That was harsh wasn’t it?”
After two more slices of pizza for me and a bowl of Black Walnut ice-cream for Camilla, we watched one episode of Law and Order and hid under the sheets for nearly two hours. It was refreshing to know the woman I loved and adored still had a special need for my body. I was certain it wasn’t an act. Camilla was for real.
The Pencil Driven Life 