Live Shot by Dick Wybrow

Author:Dick Wybrow [Wybrow, Dick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Doogle had been silent the entire time I’d recalled the off-the-record part of my jailhouse interview. When I sat back, he nodded slowly and looked out the window at the bright city lights against the dark sky.

“I had a feeling you were going to push him on some stuff and didn’t want anyone around.”

“You’ve got good instincts,” I said. “Or maybe we’re just in sync. We can read each other’s minds.”

“Man, I don’t wanna read your mind, Mel.” He smiled sadly. “It would probably give me nightmares.”

I threw the only pillow on my couch at him. I mean, it’s a throw pillow. That’s what they’re for. It’s in the name so totally on brand. He just let it hit his head and bounce off.

I said, “Okay, so if Levitin is keeping a record—”

“If.”

“We just need to find it and flip through it. If it says St. Louis within twenty-four hours of Oz’s death, that’s the confirmation I need.”

“Creve Coeur,” Doogle said, nodding. “We were born in Creve Coeur, but yeah, a St. Louis suburb.”

I shrugged. “That’s all the verification the reporter part of my brain needs.”

“And? What happens then?”

“I’ll end it,” I said, staring off. Then I looked back at my brother-in-law. “Just me. I won’t ask for anything more of you.”

“You don’t have to do this all alone, Mel.”

“Great, so you’ll kill Arthur Levitin?”

Doogle put his hands over his face, talking between his fingers. “How can you even say that shit out loud? It’s not n-normal.”

“Normal went away at 9:22am on December 14th,” I said.

Dropping his hands, he looked at me. “Forever? This is you now?”

I shrugged and slowly shook my head.

Doogle’s face softened. “Does this have anything to do with, you know, how you grew up? Being left in that home after your mom took your brother and sister away?”

“Half-brother, half-sister,” I corrected him.

“But you were left in that house with him, right? A goddamn sociopath.”

“Psychopath, actually.”

“What’s the fucking difference?” Doogle’s voice had strained like the words were scraping his throat.

“Dear ol’ dad the serial killer was a psychopath,” I said, shrugging. “He was born that way. Sociopaths are more circumstantial.”

“Both leave bodies everywhere.”

“Almost never. Actually, psychopaths make great CEOs because they can make tough, totally objective decisions without all the concerns about the people they affect.”

“Right,” Doogle said. “Metaphorically leaving bodies everywhere because they’ll fire your ass without blinking.” My brother-in-law stood and went to the window, looking down at the zigzagging lights of the cars below. “Where do we go from here?”

I flipped on my back and put my head on the box couch’s arm rest. Really shouldn’t have tossed away the only pillow I’d taken time to unpack. “Rainwater is pushing me to get a story on Levitin.”

“He is?”

“Well, from his perspective, it looks like I’m already on the investigation.” I closed my eyes. “If we can turn this into a news story, he may give us some latitude to get what we want from it.”

He came over and hovered above me at the couch.

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