Dead to Rights by Jack Patterson (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

the situation called for it. But more often than not, he’d leave 70,000 fans slack-jawed in a stadium several times every game after he broke off a beautiful run or hurdled a defender on his way for a touchdown. And for the first four seasons, Drake only got better.

Cal sighed deeply as he stared at the card and shook his head.

Too bad there wasn’t a fifth season—or a sixth or a seventh.

“Honey, when are you coming down?” Kelly called from the ground floor. “Maddie wants to have tea with you before we leave.”

“Coming.”

Cal slid his Isaiah Drake card into a protective sleeve made out of hard plastic and then scurried down the ladder. He closed up the attic and wasted no time in finding Maddie’s room, where she’d set a place for him at her table.

“What are we celebrating today?” he asked, sitting down in front of Maddie’s table.

“Tea!” she said before proceeding to pour pretend cups of tea for her father and the two stuffed guests seated on both sides of him.

Cal delicately picked up the plastic tea cup and held his pinky out.

“Is this how you’re supposed to drink it?” he asked.

She giggled. “Of course, Daddy. You should know by now. We’ve done this a bajillion times.”

Cal enjoyed the moment with his daughter before the conversation turned somewhat serious.

“You know your mom and I are going away again, right?” he asked.

She nodded. “But Aunt Jillian’s coming, isn’t she?”

“She sure is. You two are going to have so much fun.”

As quickly as Maddie’s face broke into a wide grin, it sank. “When will you be back home?”

Cal reached across the table and held her hand. “It won’t be that long, just a little over a week. I made a little poster for you to count down the days. It’ll be fun, plus you’ll have a blast with Aunt Jillian.”

Maddie smiled. “You’re probably right.” She paused. “I may not want you to come home either.”

Cal exaggerated a jaw drop then grabbed Maddie and tickled her. “Don’t you worry. I’ll always come back for you.”

After he finished playing with her, Cal’s phone rang. It was his editor, Frank Buckman.

“When are you coming down here, Cal?” he asked with a growl. “We’ve got a few things to discuss before you leave.”

“Yeah, we’ll stop by before we head to the airport. Kelly’s just rounding up all her camera gear and we’re waiting on her sister to get here.”

“Good. We need to be careful how we handle this story. Wading into one of the most controversial sports stories of our time isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

“No, it isn’t. To be honest, I’m a little nervous.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re a pro. Just don’t lose your focus, and you’ll be fine. Plus, you’ll have your wife with you, snapping some unbelievable photos. It’ll be your favorite assignment you’ve ever had, trust me.”

“But the South Georgia swamp? I’ve read some crazy stories about that place down there.”

“What? Did you find articles about The Marsh Monster?”

Cal remained silent for a moment. “Yeah. So?”

“So, those are all just a great big hoax. There isn’t some crazy Neanderthal-looking guy running around down there, hacking people to death.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“I wouldn’t either if I’d read those stupid websites. But just remember, Cal, that when it comes to journalism today, the name of the game is clicks, not accuracy. People will quickly forgive you. They all know how easy it is to accidentally snap a picture of their private parts and have it spread all across social media. Or how someone could hack their account and invite all their friends to purchase a pair of sunglasses. If you say it was a mistake, people will believe you.”

“If either of us gets eaten alive by some scaly green monster, you’ll know where to look for our bodies.”

Buckman chuckled. “If that actually happened, I doubt I’ll be out looking for your body in the swamp. We’ll probably just have some type of memorial service for you, maybe put your body in a crocodile-shaped urn.”

“That’s not as funny as you think it is.”

“Loosen up, Cal. You’re headed back to the Deep South.”

“I know, which is exactly why I’m not excited about it. Perhaps you don’t remember me telling you about the time I went to the bayou to investigate the murder of a superstar recruit.”

“Oh, if I’ve heard that story once, I’ve heard it a hundred times. Just enjoy yourself and come back with a bang-up story, okay?”

“You can count on that.”

“Good because that’s what I was worried about most. I know your wife is going to get some great pictures that will make your story appear better than it is.”

“How much pleasure do you derive in needling me, Buckman?”

“It’s immeasurable.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told, though I don’t let it bother me.”

“No, you don’t,” Cal quipped before hanging up.

Cal sighed as he hung up. Buckman never missed an opportunity to give him a hard time. But this wasn’t just a hard time. Cal had serious reservations about heading into muddy southern waters again.

“You all right, honey?” Kelly asked.

Her voice startled Cal and brought him back to reality.

“Who me?”

She smiled. “Who else do you think I’m calling honey?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little skittish about getting back to the south, not to mention getting to interview one of my favorite fallen NFL stars. I’m looking forward to it, though I’m sure it will make me sad.”

“Don’t you worry. Everything will work out just fine.”

Cal returned to packing, but several minutes later, the phone rang. He glanced at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. For the first several rings, he avoided answering the phone.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know who it is.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“I am, but not right now. I’ve got more important things to do.”

Cal’s phone rang again, this time from the same number.

“No, I don’t want your stupid business loan,” Cal mumbled as he stared at his