I'm not connecting the dots here

"I'm not connecting the dots here," she said when she finished.
"Travis Boyette knows where the body is buried. He knows because he killed her."
"Did he admit he killed her?"
"Almost. He says he has an inoperable brain tumor and will be dead in a few months. He says Donte Drumm had nothing to do with the murder. He strongly implied that he knows where the body is."
Dana fell onto the sofa and sank amid the pillows and throws. "And you believe him?"
"He's a career criminal, Dana, a con man,fake uggs boots. He'd rather lie than tell the truth. You can't believe a word he says."
"Do you believe him?"
"I think so."
"How can you believe him? Why?"
"He's suffering, Dana. And not just from the tumor. He knows something about the murder, and the body. He knows a lot, and he's genuinely disturbed by the fact that an innocent man is facing an execution."
For a man who spent much of his time listening to the delicate problems of others, and offering advice and counsel that they relied on, Keith had become a wise and astute observer. And he was seldom wrong. Dana was much quicker on the draw, much more likely to criticize and judge and be wrong about it. "So what are you thinking, Pastor?" she asked.
"Let's take the next hour and do nothing but research. Let's verify a few things: Is he really on parole? If so, who is his parole officer? Is he being treated at St. Francis? Does he have a brain tumor? If so, is it terminal?"
"It will be impossible to get his medical records without his consent."
"Sure, but let's see how much we can verify. Call Dr. Herzlich--was he in church yesterday?"
"Yes."
"I thought so,mont blanc pens. Call him and fish around. He should be making rounds this morning at St. Francis. Call the parole board and see how far you can dig."
"And what might you be doing while I'm burning up the phones?"
"I'll go online, see what I can find about the murder,fake uggs online store, the trial, the defendant, everything that happened down there."
They both stood, in a hurry now. Dana said, "And what if it's all true, Keith? What if we convince ourselves that this creep is telling the truth?"
"Then we have to do something."
"Such as?"
"I have no earthly idea."
Chapter 2
Robbie Flak's father purchased the old train station in downtown Slone in 1972, while Robbie was still in high school and just before the city was about to tear it down. Mr. Flak Sr. had made some money suing drilling companies and needed to spend a little of it. He and his partners renovated the station and reestablished themselves there, and for the next twenty years prospered nicely,cheap designer handbags. They certainly weren't rich, not by Texas standards anyway, but they were successful lawyers and the small firm was well regarded in town.
Then along came Robbie. He began working at the firm when he was a teenager, and it was soon evident to the other lawyers there that he was different. He showed little interest in profits but was consumed with social injustice. He urged his father to take on civil-rights cases, age- and sex-discrimination cases, unfair-housing cases, police-brutality cases, the type of work that can get one ostracized in a small southern town. Brilliant and brash, Robbie finished college up north, in three years, and sailed through law school at the University of Texas at Austin. He never interviewed for a job, never thought about working anywhere but the train station in downtown Slone. There were so many people there he wanted to sue, so many mistreated and downtrodden clients who needed him.