Free Dead in the Water (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 4) by Jack Patterson

Gardner said. “We had big plans for you. Still do, if you return to your senses.”
    Dixon nodded and looked down. He kept silent.
    “Just think about what’s best for your family. I understand if you think there’s a better opportunity elsewhere, but I’m quite sure you won’t find one. Don’t let an opportunity like this slip away.”
    With that, Coach Gardner stood up and walked to the car. Johnson didn’t get up as he eyed the coach. Once Coach Gardner’s car door shut, Johnson leaned forward and spoke in a whisper.
    “So, what did Alabama offer you?” Johnson asked. “You can tell me.”
    Dixon furrowed his brow and stared at Johnson. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Oh, come on,” Dixon said. “They didn’t offer me nothin’. Get outta here with that talk.”
    “Look, I know something happened on your visit to Bryant that made you change your mind. And I think I know what it is. Don’t play games with me. You’re better off just shootin’ me straight than lyin’ to my face.”
    Dixon rolled his eyes and stood up. “I think we’re done here. And you can tell Coach Gardner that I’m not interested.”
    Johnson stood up as well. “You’re going to regret this as long as you live.”
    Dixon stuck his chest out and cocked his head. He clenched his right fist as he glared at Johnson.
    “Are you threatening me?” Dixon asked.
    Dixon watched Johnson glance down at his fist before he answered. “No. I’m just trying to keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
    Dixon unclenched his fist as Johnson walked off the porch and toward his car. Dixon put his hands on the railing and leaned forward as he watched the pair drive away. He turned around when he heard the screen door bounce against the frame a couple of times.
    “So, how’d it go?” his mother asked.
    “Fine.”
    “Did you make a decision yet?”
    “Yeah, I did.”
    “Really?”
    “Yep. I decided I won’t be going to Bryant.”

CHAPTER 10
    TUESDAY AFTERNOON CAL RAPPED on the screen door to Dominique Dixon’s house. Mrs. Dixon answered the door.
    “I don’t think we were expecting anyone. Are you another coach?” she asked.
    Cal shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m a reporter from the Atlanta paper writing a story about what happened to Tre’vell Baker. I was wondering if I could ask Dominique a few questions.”
    “We’re just finishin’ up dinner. Have a seat out here in the porch and I’ll go fetch him.”
    She disappeared inside and Cal chose one of the wooden chairs in desperate need of a paint job. Potter remained in the truck on a phone call, leaving Cal alone for the moment. Cal looked around at the surroundings. There were several clapboard houses nearby. A few chickens strutted around the area, meandering between the homes. Most of the cars parked in front of the homes looked like they belonged in another decade, if not century. Rust replaced missing swaths of paint. On one of the cars, a cinder block served as a stand-in for a missing tire.
    Cal could hear the bayou stirring softly. A fall nip had replaced the warm sun preparing to make its exit for the day. It seemed peaceful despite the apparent poverty of the people who lived in this area lived. One elderly man rocked in a chair on his front porch and waved at Cal. Cal waved back and enjoyed the serenity of the moment. Yet the calm was shattered when he heard the angry voice of a man yelling inside of Dixon’s home.
    Moments later, Dixon joined Cal on the front porch and shut the front door behind him.
    “Sorry about that,” Dixon said. “My dad can get a little grumpy at times.”
    Cal stood up and shook Dixon’s hand. “No need to apologize. Cal Murphy from The Atlanta Journal-Constitution .”
    “Dominique Dixon. Nice to meet you, sir. My mom told me that you wanted to talk about Tre’vell Baker.”
    “Yeah, I’m writing a story on his death and was wondering if you could tell me more about him.”
    “Sure, what