Charles Morgan

June, 1977. Somewhere in a remote area of Tucson, AZ. A brand new Mercury Cougar slowly drives down State Route 86. It is almost pitch dark and the driver turns on the dome light to check the hand-written directions. He tunes the CB radio to channel 19, waiting for communication. Pulling off the highway in the San Juan Springs area, he stops the car. This is the place. In the trunk of the car, a cache of ammunition. On the back seat, one of his own teeth wrapped in a handkerchief. In a briefcase on the seat beside him, thousands of dollars in large bills. He zips up his bulletproof vest and scans the darkness around him, thick with the summer’s humidity. Inside the holster strapped to his side, is a .357 Magnum. He makes sure the gun is loaded, places it back in the holster and exits the car. These were the last moments of Chuck Morgan’s life. You are listening to Murdercast.

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