Chapter 48: More Questions
September 15, 20—
7:47 A.M.
287 Willow Street
Beckley Roarke was squashing me with his two-hundred-and-thirty-five pounds of athletic muscle. I squirmed out from under his snoring and limp body because my cellphone was buzzing. The squirming was next to impossible, but I managed.
Once I fetched the cellphone from the dresser, which sat on the opposite side of my bedroom, I picked it up, pressed a familiar button to speak, and said, “Hello.”
“Do you honest to God think I murdered Tad Dossner and Jamie Bodice with a Viper helmet?” It was Rod Peterson calling, asking me the question with outrage in his tone and an unpleasant demeanor.
“Rod, what are you talking about?”
“I heard that you were trying to pin both murders on me, Johnny Knight. I’m telling you ri
