Dead Wrong (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 7)
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“Patterson has a mean streak about a mile wide and puts his two main characters through quite a horrible ride, which makes for good reading.”
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“Like a John Grisham novel, from the very start I was pulled right into the story and couldn’t put the book down. It was as if I personally knew and cared about what happened to each of the main characters. Every chapter ended with so much excitement and suspense I had to continue to read until I learned how it ended, even though it kept me up until 3:00 A.M.
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“Small town life in southern Idaho might seem quaint and idyllic to some. But when local newspaper reporter Cal Murphy begins to uncover a series of strange deaths that are linked to a sticky spider web of deception, the lid on the peaceful town is blown wide open. Told with all the energy and bravado of an old pro, first-timer Jack Patterson hits one out of the park his first time at bat with Dead Shot. It’s that good.”
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NFL writer for CBSSports.com
& author of Sid Gillman: Father of the Passing Game
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- Bob Behler
3-time Idaho broadcaster of the year
and play-by-play voice for Boise State football
DEAD IN THE WATER
“In Dead in the Water, Jack Patterson accurately captures the action-packed saga of a what could be a real-life college football scandal. The sordid details will leave readers flipping through the pages as fast as a hurry-up offense.”
- Mark Schlabach,
ESPN college sports columnist and
co-author of Called to Coach
Heisman: The Man Behind the Trophy
Other titles by Jack Patterson
Cal Murphy Thriller series
Better off Dead
Dead in the Water
Dead Man's Curve
Dead and Gone
James Flynn Thriller series
The Warren Omissions
For Aaron, the best brother a man could ever ask for
KELVIN JAMESON WONDERED if a jury of his peers would convict him if he murdered Hank Bingham. The city would probably throw me a parade. Jameson smiled at the idea before letting his mind drift away for a moment about how to plan the perfect murder. Then Bingham’s voice snapped him back to reality.
“If I had a nickel for every time Jameson passed up a shot, I wouldn’t have a nickel,” Bingham said. Hutch White, the former Washington Redskins star tight end, roared with laughter.
Easily the Beltway’s biggest on-air radio personality, Bingham espoused his opinions about athletes as if they were trees or concrete or any other inanimate object. As Bingham’s voice droned through the speakers in his Mercedes-Benz S65 AMG, Jameson imagined the moment when the verdict was read.
“If I were Nikolay Gavin, I would release Jameson now,” Bingham continued. “Who cares about the salary cap hit? Get this relic out of D.C. We don’t need Albatross any longer.”
Albatross? What a couple of losers.
Jameson wanted to slam his fist on the steering wheel and curse the two men who’d made it their life mission to destroy him. But he stopped short of hitting or saying anything when he heard a soft voice from the backseat.
“Dad, are you gonna win tonight?” asked Jameson’s son, Kelvin Jameson Jr.
Jameson adjusted his mirror and smiled as he looked at the eight-year-old. KJ—the name Jameson’s wife bestowed upon him since she refused to call him Junior—looked up at his father through a pair of doe eyes. It was apparent he wanted an answer, one that was sincere.
“Why, of course, son,” Jameson said. “I never expect to lose.”
KJ didn’t wait to respond. “You say that every time, Dad. And sometimes you lose.”
“But not tonight.”
“And why are you so convinced tonight that you’re going to win? You know we’re playing the Spurs.”
Jameson flashed his winning smile as he glanced at KJ in the rearview mirror and chuckled at his son’s tenacious line of questioning. “I don’t know how to explain it, son, but it’s just a feeling.”
“You said the same thing last week when we played Celtics. And I don’t think I need to tell you that the Spurs are a lot better than the Celtics.”
“No, I’m well aware of how much better the Spurs are. But it’s just something I know. We’re going to win.”
“And what if you don’t?”
“I’ll buy you ice cream after the game.”
“But, Dad—you always buy me ice cream after the game.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll make it a double for you if we lose. Sound like a deal?”
KJ nodded. “Deal.”
Jameson rolled into the underground parking garage beneath the Wizards’ arena and whipped the car into an open space. He cut off the engine and turned around to help KJ out of his seat. But his son was gone.
He bent down and looked under the seat, even though he knew his son couldn’t fit there. He leaned into