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 25
Of all days to start a mini-vacation, today was the worst. Camilla and I had planned a trip to Mentone since January. It was now the middle of May, and we had reservations at the Mountain Laurel Inn for tonight through Wednesday morning. I wouldn’t dare tell Camilla, but all I really wanted to do was further immerse myself in the Adam Parker case, especially since I had learned the perfectionist professor had been murdered. A smart man knew there were times he had to pivot, to change his mind and his focus on a dime. Now, was one of those times. I had to at least act like I was smart.
I heard the car drive up and the engine go silent. I walked to the rear of the cabin and looked out through the back door. Pivoting was easy. How on God’s green earth had I been able to convince the gorgeous Camilla to be my woman? She was not only beautiful in her yellow and blue flowered dress that outlined a near perfect body, just as importantly, she was all heart and soul. When Amy moved into the Playhouse three months ago, at first, I thought Camilla was simply playing nice. How wrong could I have been. She recognized the reality of the situation, and how important the now sick Amy had been to me for almost thirty-five years. I still found it hard to believe that these two women were truly friends.
“How was church?” I asked as Camilla walked up the stairs to the back porch.
“Pastor Caleb’s message was perfect. He spoke of how Jesus himself needed at times to get away and unwind, to restore his inner strength. I hate you couldn’t be there to hear his message. You might be in a better frame of mind to start our little trip.” Camilla set her purse and iPhone in a chair and walked to the kitchen. “You want a sandwich before we leave?”
“If you do. For your information wonder woman, I’ve already been thinking and preparing myself. If you want me I’m all yours forever, but at least until Wednesday afternoon.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Your bags packed?”
“Yep. It stays packed.” I learned while working for Bobby to be ready for a multi-day trip on instant notice.
Camilla and I ate a bologna sandwich and spent the next hour riding to Mentone with me driving her Camry, since my truck was in the shop for a tune-up. We didn’t talk much but there was quite a bit of communication going on, at least from me. I liked Camilla’s new Khaki shorts. I liked her long and bare legs better. I was thankful the weather was warm. By 2:30, we had checked in at our favorite bed and breakfast, had delivered our bags to the Sequoya Room (it was the Orange Room when Amy and I had stayed there one weekend during Christmas break from our second year at Auburn, but I didn’t tell Camilla), and I was laying across the giant bed hoping Camilla would take the hint. Instead, she made me put on my matching shorts and go for a long walk.
We spent the next three hours touring and browsing through Ayres Antiques, Magnolia Rose, Miracle Pottery, and the Mentone Market. Camilla had apparently done some research and was dead set on buying Emily and Amy, and all six of her beautician colleagues, a ‘Lil River Tumbler’ from Miracle Pottery. I thought twenty-five dollars each was a little excessive but decided to stay quiet. As the lady was wrapping each gift she repeated herself at least three times, “Miracle Pottery is signed first with a cross in thanks to our Lord. It is also a prayer that the receiver be forever blessed.” I couldn’t believe I handed Camilla a fifty-dollar bill and asked her to buy us both a Lil River. At a minimum, surely Camilla would conclude that my mind wasn’t anywhere else but with her.
After storing the box full of miracles in the Camry’s trunk, we walked back across the street to the Wildflower Cafe. Two nights ago, Camilla had announced we would eat at this landmark diner at least once during our trip even though our meals were included at the Mountain Laurel Inn. After sharing the Famous Tomato Pie appetizer, we both ordered the prime rib. At $34.00 each, I was glad the menu touted the beef as hormone-free.
By 8:00 p.m., after listening to a couple of local musicians at the Wildflower, we were back in our room. I was happy to see the Inn continued its practice of being completely free of televisions or other electronic distractions. This, along with only one chair in our bedroom, gave welcome attention to the giant bed standing confidently in the center of the Sequoya Room. After two hours beneath the sheets I felt guilty for the routine and rapid sessions I had foisted on mine and Camilla’s relationship ever since the Adam Parker case came along. I realized what a fool I was.
Camilla, if granted full freedom, could create such a satisfying adventure. Her love of foreplay, and post-play as she called it, could only be weakly compared to a trip to Heaven, meaning, the time spent besides, under, and on top of the gorgeous Camilla was vastly superior to even the most coveted journeys life could offer. After a quick trip to the bathroom for each of us, we didn’t change sleeping positions for the next eight hours. And, I don’t think I thought of anything but my Camilla miracle until the innkeeper knocked on our door as she passed at 8:00 a.m. announcing that breakfast was ready and waiting.
Monday and Tuesday were spent in the same routine. Breakfast in the main dining room at the Mountain Laurel Inn, at least six hours spent at DeSoto Falls, just hiking and basking on the rocks in the sun, dinner back at the Inn, and at least two hours laying horizontal with kissing Camilla’s sweet lips and submitting to her control, thankful she was such a leader in bed.
On our return trip to Boaz Wednesday morning, I was saddened to end the most personal and private time Camilla and I had ever spent, at least for this long a time. As much as I had regretted abandoning my number one case last Sunday morning, now equally regretful was Camilla’s strong interest in what was going on.
When I exited I-59 South at Collinsville, Camilla said, “oh, I forgot to tell you, Darlene shared something you might be interested it. She was in last Friday for her weekly wash and set. Apparently, Lawton had a collection of visitor passes.”
“Paths?” I had to have my hearing checked.
“Passes. P A S S E S.” I liked how patient Camilla was at times. “After the Sheriff’s Department released Lawton’s house, after their investigation, Darlene was there trying to figure out what to do with all his stuff. She found a desk drawer full of those clip-on type visitor passes. I guess he took trips to places, businesses, trying to get them to locate in Boaz. All of them were mostly retail stores and restaurants. Places like the Olive Garden, Target, Belk’s, J.C. Penney, and Home Depot.”
“Sounds like he was smoking a pipe dream.” I said. “I doubt there was a chance in you know where any of those would consider a back hollow like Boaz. He should have spent his time seeking antique stores and pawn shops, and maybe another thrift or gun store.” I said.
“Here’s the point you might be interested in. After I saw the scribbling on your notepad in your study I thought you might want to know that Lawton had a visitor’s pass to Glock in Smyrna.” Camilla said.
“So, it seems Lawton, a Boaz City Councilman, had made a trip to Georgia, and you’re assuming he went there in that capacity to try and woo the giant gun manufacturer to Boaz. Right?”
“I guess. I hadn’t thought of any of that. I was just passing on the same word you had written on your notepad. I really don’t know exactly how investigations work. I just thought it was an interesting coincidence.”
“Thanks. Seriously, that is helpful. My only regret is you can’t be by my side 24-7.” I said, laying my right hand on her freshly shaved left leg, again thankful, this time for her denim shorts. Right then I fully committed to at least a minimum, quarterly get away with the lovely Camilla.
I spent most of Wednesday afternoon with Blair while she showed me her final product as she called it. She now had everything from Adam, including every document from his office computer, loaded into Evernote for searching. I told her I wanted her to focus on anything and everything she could find about the Williams family, including Roger, Robert (Alex), and Russell. I shared with her how I thought the Knoxville reporter’s phrase, ‘Bullets, Babies, and Bullshit,’ was at the center of our investigation and that the Williams’ and their Glock focus were at the center of the center. She agreed to pursue as I instructed. Before she had to leave for a 4:00 dentist appointment she informed me she was sure there was a missing computer. Blair showed me a tag that Adam used at the end of several entries he made on his computer, in the folder he had labeled ‘Deep State.’ The tag was simply, ‘Deeper State.’ Blair seemed to believe, especially since we didn’t know where the Open Curtain transmitters were sending their information, Adam had another electronic device. “I bet it’s an iPad.” I promised her I would return to his home and office to conduct another search.
Thursday, I met Garrett for breakfast at Pirate’s Cove.
“You look ten years younger.” Garrett said as I sat down. He, as usual, was already eating. The man, just a few years short of eighty years old, still gets up at 5:00 a.m., and does a three-mile fast walk around Boaz. This reminded me I had now forgotten my early morning routine five days in a row.
“I feel it also. I’m thankful for mine and Camilla’s time away, and for my new commitment to get away at least once a quarter. Life is more than work.”
“Speaking of work, your boy Alex has been busy.” Garrett said motioning a waitress for more coffee.
“Meaning?”
“You know he’s still a legislator, even though he’s running for governor. He was instrumental in the bill that just passed both houses. It’s called an abortion ban bill. Here’s a real kicker. It’s now illegal, actually a crime, for a doctor to perform an abortion later than the 15-week mark.”
The new waitress had a sweet smile but wasn’t yet as efficient as Gloria. She was away for a few weeks while her father recovered from hip surgery. “More strawberry jelly please.” I looked at Garrett who had set down his fork as though he was waiting on me to respond. “Ever since I learned about Natalie’s pregnancy and Alex’s insistence she have an abortion, I’ve been doing some reading.”
“You now an abortion expert?” Garrett asked.
“Funny, but I think I can at least converse about it on a layman’s level. It takes around 24 weeks for the fetus to become a baby. Of course, not everyone would agree. Most Southern Baptists say that the cellular mass is a baby from conception. Now, you’re saying Alabama has passed a law that says abortions are illegal past 15 weeks?” I asked.
“Actually, the way the bill was written, vague on purpose I believe, since it’s now a crime for a doctor to perform any abortion, it virtually forces an Alabama woman to either use some shade-tree shop or go out of state.”
“This can’t be legal, in light of Roe vs. Wade. Doesn’t it give the woman the right to choose, at least until the baby is viable, which is around 24 weeks?” I asked.
“That may just be the point. Republicans are ready to put that old seventies case to the test. You know the Alabama legislature is Republican controlled. Their aim is to make Alabama the safest place in America for unborn children.”
“Children, babies. They and a fetus or a glob of cells are not the same thing. I’m becoming more convinced Republicans care far more about the unborn than they do the baby once its outside its mother’s womb. They argue for adoption, but it seems to ignore the huge backlog of cases in foster care which necessarily brings so much heartache and suffering on thousands of children. Also, the failure of Republicans to do anything about gun control. I could go on with poverty issues, criminal justice issues, military issues. You know most kids killed in our wars are poor, are from poor families.”
“Take a breath. Eat your breakfast. Seems like you’re allowing your closed mind to open a little.” Garrett said.
“It seems all my life I’ve purposefully chosen to stay on the sidelines. I’ve listened in church and believed what I’ve been told to believe. Now, with all the Parker case is churning up, creationism, abortion, and guns, it’s becoming more obvious the South is full of closed-minded folks.” I said.
“There’s more open-minded folks than you think. The real danger comes from your Southern Baptist fundamentalists. One thing we can say for sure is that the new brand of Republicanism, what you spoke of, has co-opted Southern Baptists. The Christian Right is now the far right.”
“My breakfast has that hypocritical taste. Let’s change the subject.” I said.
“Okay, see if this will taste any better. I think I told you Paige and Natalie have been working with Gina almost every weekend with her creationism research.”
“I think you mentioned that.”
“I talked with Gina last night. She asked me to go with her to First Baptist Church in Centre on Sunday. It seems Natalie has had her abortion and is under the weather.” Garrett said, placing a ten-dollar bill under the salt shaker.
“That makes me so damn mad. She didn’t want an abortion. That asshole Alex finally got his wish. He is such a damn hypocrite.”
“My friend, welcome to the world of politics.” Garrett said standing up and putting on a tweed sport coat that looked unnatural for a hot day in late May.
I spent all Friday afternoon in the war room. Ever since I learned about the falsification of Adam’s autopsy and his murder, my mind had felt it was riding the top of a tsunami. This was nothing new, but it still left me feeling out of control. It should have been the other way around. My feet should be solidly planted and headed forward. Joe’s work in Wyoming should have left me believing we were getting close to solving Adam’s murder. Several hours in the war room made me realize the truth of what Bobby Sorrells always said, “just when you think you’ve got it figured out, you better transform into a defense attorney. Explore what he or she is going to say in response to your allegation.”
Even though Jake Stone was a kingpin in hiding Adam’s murder didn’t mean the Williams’ were involved. No doubt I could paint a pretty good picture they would have a motive to silence the professor, I had no tangible evidence. Heck, Bart, Dr. Culbert, could be one hundred percent wrong that Jake Stone was the one who had called him. Twice. As I tried to integrate the recently acquired new evidence, facts were a better word, I was reminded of one thing. Adam Parker was poisoned. I wrote this down on an index card and was pinning it to what I called my ‘scene board’ when I felt a wave of near nausea roll through my stomach. Truthfully, I didn’t know that. That’s what Dr. Culbert said, but is that the gospel truth? I knew then I had to ask Marissa to do something that I suspected would be the hardest thing she had ever done. If she wanted a chance to know, to absolutely know, what had happened to her father, his body had to be exhumed and a drug screen performed.
I walked out of the war room and spent the next thirty minutes on the phone with Marissa. I shared with her what Joe had learned in Wyoming. She volunteered that it was the Marshall County coroner who had given her Dr. Culbert’s name and phone number to begin with; the coroner had even encouraged her to make the call. As expected, Marissa resisted the idea to pursue an exhumation, and wanted to explore other possibilities. In the end, her commitment to the truth won out. I told her I would engage my attorney friend Dalton to prepare the necessary court petition, and that I would also share the new information with Mark Hale at the Sheriff’s Department to have them initiate a murder investigation.
Blair walked in right as I ended the call and said she had been needing to speak with me for over two hours. It reminded me I needed to create a better rule than simply, ‘do not disturb’ me when I am in the war room. Blair said Hannah Knott had called three times wanting to speak with me. “I told her that more than likely you would be free by six. Was that okay?”
“It’s nearly six now. Yes, that’s okay. Seriously, you did the right thing by not bothering me, but in the future, if you perceive it to be a real emergency then you have my permission to tap on the war room’s door.”
“Connor, I haven’t said it in a while, but thanks again for hiring me. These last few weeks, working on the Parker case, have been the most intriguing and rewarding of my life. I feel I have a real purpose, helping people find the truth.” Blair said. She had already said many times how much she loved her job. From what she had shared about her rocky marriage that ended in divorce, it was obvious she was becoming more attached to Connor Ford Investigations, than she had ever been to the asshole who abused her. Only an idiot would have mistreated her and ignored such a kind, sweet, and adorable young woman.
“You don’t have to keep saying that. But, it works both ways. I am blessed to have found you. I hope you stay satisfied working here.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” At that moment the front door dingy thing sounded. “I’ll go check. That’s probably Hannah.” Blair said.
I walked to the conference room and before I sat down Hannah and Blair stood in the doorway. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’m heading out.” Blair said.
“Have a nice weekend, and thanks again for all your hard work.” I said motioning for Hannah to come in and sit down.
“Hi Connor, thanks for seeing me.” Hannah said looking a little disheveled.
“No, thank you for coming. I hear you’ve been out of town. Yes, I dropped by your office yesterday and your assistant said you were at a conference.”
“I’ve been gone a week today. I flew out to Los Angles to attend the annual conference of the Shakespeare Association of America. It’s a top highlight of my year.”
“Sounds interesting.” I said making small talk. I didn’t know a thing about Shakespeare.
“This is the reason I wanted to see you just as soon as I could. I flew back a day early. I did this on purpose, thinking that I might catch Steven with his guard down.” Hannah said, laying a slim leather briefcase on the conference room table.
“You’re sounding like an investigator.”
“Last night on the phone I told him I’d see him late Saturday, tomorrow afternoon, and asked him to meet me at Top ‘O the River in Gadsden. He loves that place.”
“Is that Steven’s?” I said motioning my head towards the tan-colored bag.
“No, it’s Adam Parker’s. When I got home early this afternoon I went into Steven’s study. He was still at the church, so I snooped around. He normally is very neat and prides himself on having no clutter on his desk. Today, that wasn’t the story. I recognized Adam’s briefcase, satchel, whatever. I’d seen him carrying it on many occasions.” Hannah turned it over and pushed it towards me. “See, here’s his initials.” She had opened one of the little flaps. Engraved on a gold-looking metal strip was the initials ANP.”
“What does the N stand for? I asked.
“Nathaniel. I always kidded him that he was named after a grocery store chain. Do you remember the A & P’s?”
“Yea, kind of.” I was dying to know why on earth Steven Knott had Adam’s leather bag. Just as much, I wanted to know what was inside. “What’s in it?”
“An iPad. That’s all. I’ve already looked at it. I was surprised it wasn’t password protected. I didn’t see anything that caught my attention.” Hannah said.
“Do you have any idea why Steven would have Adam’s briefcase?” I asked.
“None. As far as I can remember, Steven never mentioned Adam Parker. I’m not sure they knew each other.”
“I really need to keep this, but I’m worried about you. Steven will know you took this from his desk.” I said.
“I brought it here for you, figuring you would want it for your investigation. I’ve decided if Steven asks about the briefcase I’m going to say I don’t know anything about it.”
“So, you’re willing to lie?” I asked.
“Temporarily, just to get Steven to talking. I hope, after I tell him I don’t know anything, that he will simply tell me the truth.”
I couldn’t believe Hannah was so gullible. “I suggest you not hold your breath. If Steven is having an affair with Peyton Todd, I suspect he won’t be the type to volunteer why he has Adam’s bag.”
“He might if I then tell him I saw it and brought it to you. He might get scared and be willing to say something, even possibly talk with you. Connor, I still have hopes that Steven is caught up in something way bigger than himself and that he’s not having an affair.” Hannah said, looking down at Adam’s bag. “I have a feeling, I don’t know why, that Adam knew something that got him killed.”
“So, you don’t think Adam died of natural causes?” I asked.
“No. Not really. Call it a woman’s intuition. I remember something Jake Stone said that Sunday Steven and I had lunch with him and Sandra, his wife. Jake said that Natalie had a teacher who she was talking to about not having an abortion.”
“He didn’t say the teacher was Adam Parker?”
“No, but it had to be. Natalie, and Paige Todd, were too close to Adam for it not to be him. When he came to me about the NRA letter and essay that Paige had written was when I could tell he cared a lot about them.”
“I really appreciate you bringing this to me. I hope there is something on this iPad that will answer a few questions. Thanks. Also, if you will, let me know what Steven says. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call. Anytime.” I gave her my cell number.
Hannah left a few minutes later and I spent another thirty minutes exploring Adam’s iPad. I, like Hannah, didn’t find anything that caught my attention. I made a mental note to ask Mark when I talked to him about reopening Adam’s case to ask him if Tony could look at Adam’s iPad.
The Pencil-Driven Life 