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re-reading the article.
    “Let me help you out, Einstein.” Kelly took the paper from Cal and circled three names with a pen: Murray, Reid, and Gold. The three last names of the teens who were now dead. She handed the paper back to Cal. “Now, do you get it?”
    “Well, there’s at least two other people quoted in the article and nobody in their family died. Besides, do you really think that a developer would hire someone to kill the sons of three people who spoke out at a meeting? If you’re that sinister, why not put the squeeze on the commissioners themselves?”
    Kelly went on a mini-tirade that reminded Cal of her Uncle Joe.
    “Look, we’ve got nothing right now, but this is as plausible as anything – and you just want to dismiss it like it’s nothing and that people aren’t really that evil? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Outsider. You have no idea the havoc outside development has wreaked on this town! I will be shocked if this isn’t who’s behind all this.”
    Cal motioned for Kelly to settle down, nearing embarrassment at the scene she was causing. He sucked the barbecue sauce off every finger, using the stall tactic as an opportunity to carefully choose his response.
    He leaned across the table and spoke in a low, calm voice in hopes of tempering Kelly’s excitement.
    “Look, I know I don’t know all of Statenville’s past history, but you’re not thinking with your head – you’re thinking with your heart. Past experience doesn’t always dictate future actions. However, if you want to warn those people quoted in the story, I’m fine with that.”
    Kelly looked down and shook her head as she cooled off.
    “All I’m saying, Cal, is that’s the least we can do. If they are next and we don’t say anything, we might both regret it. And that’s not something I want to live with.”
    “OK, let’s make some calls.”
    The two crammed down the remaining ribs and French fries and headed back to the newsroom.
    ***
    Neither Cal nor Kelly noticed the black Ford F-250 parked at the end of the block.
    As Kelly turned onto the road and headed back to the office, the black truck eased onto the road behind her.

CHAPTER 10
    GUY WAS STANDING AT Edith’s desk when Cal and Kelly returned from lunch.
    “So, did my two least favorite gumshoes crack this case?” Guy demanded.
    Cal looked at the mug Guy clutched with both hands. He wondered just how many cups Guy had to get that cranky by lunchtime. “Uh, no, but Kelly has a theory?”
    “A theory? What is this? CSI? We run a newspaper here. We deal in facts. What facts do you have that we can report in our paper without getting us sued, without getting me chewed out by the publisher, and without making Hunter Jones look like the fool that he is?”
    In the course of 15 seconds, Kelly lost her confidence – and her courage.
    “We’ve got nothing yet, but as soon as we do, I’ll let you know,” she said.
    Guy muttered another biting comment about Cal and Kelly’s intelligence and stormed back to his office.
    Kelly looked sheepishly at Cal, who was boring a hole in her with his stare.
    “What? What did you want me to say?”
    “Look, let’s each make a phone call to warn the other two people in the story and get back out there. I want to talk with a few people who might know something about these kids.”
    Cal returned to his desk and began dialing the number for Brady Perkins, the farmer who sold the land to BCH Homes. In Guy’s article, Perkins complained that he thought he was selling the land to another farmer and argued that BCH Homes posed as a buyer under false pretenses. He also expressed his disappointment that precious Idaho topsoil would be covered with pavement.
    From reading Brady’s comments, Cal wasn’t sure if the old farmer was sincere or simply trying to stave off the growing disdain locals felt toward him for selling the property to an outsider.
    Brady picked up his phone.
    “Hello?”
    “Mr.