Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

Chapter 47

Chapter 47
Kelly stared at the formulas surrounding her on the walls of Walker's research lab and occasional prison. She snapped a photo of each picture with her iPhone and emailed them to her personal account.
"What is it?" Cal demanded, growing impatient with Kelly's cryptic response and behavior.
"I think Walker was meddling with crystal meth by adding some interesting chemicals."
"Chemicals that would kill someone?" Guy asked, trying to keep up.
"It doesn't look like it, but chemicals are a fickle thing. If he added too much of one thing, it could create a different reaction than he anticipated."
"Like scratching yourself to death?" Cal asked.
"Maybe. I need to study this a little bit more to figure out exactly what he was trying to do and look up some side effects of these drugs. But that's my working theory."
"Scratching yourself to death? What are you talking about, Kelly?" Guy had abandoned all ideas of self-preservation. He couldn't resist a hard news story that included murder and government cover-ups. Guy was all in.
"Cal, show him those pictures."
Cal called up the series of photos he took at the coroner's office, revealing the gruesome nature of the teenagers' deaths.
"Oh, my ..." Guy's voice trailed off. "I've never seen anything like that."
"If Walker laced some of the Cloverdale crystal meth with some chemical, those deaths weren't accidental," Kelly said.
"Those are some serious allegations, Kelly," Guy chimed, fully engaged with his editor eye on the situation. "If you're going to make those charges, you need solid proof. But before that, you need to ask why he would do that in the first place."
"Good question. I'll let Cal answer that one," Kelly said, sensing Guy's sudden interest in telling this story. "In the meantime, we need to figure out what Walker was putting in the drugs at Cloverdale. We need to stop any more of those tainted drugs from getting in the distribution network, as crazy as that might sound."
"We can't do anything about today's shipment, but maybe we can stop tomorrow's if we alert the right people," Cal said.
"I've got a contact in forensics at the FBI field office in Salt Lake City. He owes me a favor. If you hustle, you can make it there in about two hours. I'll text you with details about where to meet him. And I'll stay here and figure out why Buddy Walker would be tainting drugs at Cloverdale."
"Sounds like a good plan, boss."
They all headed toward the exit, anxious to do some more digging, nervous about the off chance that Dawkins might wander into the barn at any moment.
"Oh, and Cal, take my Yamaha VMAX," Guy said, tossing him the key. "It's parked on the road that runs along the side of this property. That bike is a lot less conspicuous than Kelly's red sports car."
Dusk was beginning to settle in over southeastern Idaho. A long night lay ahead for The Register's three most dedicated newsroom staff, who were unaware that this would be their final night as employees of the paper.