Forgive Me, Alex (Tony Hooper Book 1) by Lane Diamond

Author:Lane Diamond [Diamond, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2011-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 41 – June 13, 1995: Mitchell Norton

The police station buzzes with activity, with cops running about as though in the midst of some crisis. I stopped in to follow up on the big scene at the coffee shop, that little dance with that fuckin’ Hooper. I’m determined to hold Chief Radlon’s feet to the fire on this.

I ain’t takin’ no more shit from Hooper.

Feels like a thousand eyes glare at me, and the cops whisper to one another as they look in my direction. It sucks being so recognizable, and they sure-as-shit don’t suffer any pretense of discretion. Feels a little like being a Hatfield upon entering a room full of McCoys, or like a storm cloud has entered the room, threatening a deluge of suspicion, disgust and anger.

The desk sergeant puts the phone down and barely looks at me before leading me back to an interrogation room. This ain’t exactly where I’d hoped to end up. Bad memoires. I ask the sergeant for something to drink before he leaves, but he feigns not hearing me and closes the door behind him.

I might not get satisfaction here. Maybe I should have gone right to a lawyer. Yet somehow, I have a desire to play the game with these cops. Why is that?

Whatever. Might be fun.

A window of one-way glass dominates one wall. I use the mirror—this side of the window—to comb my hair and straighten my tie. I decided to dress for the occasion and show the proper respect—all part of the game.

Why did they bring me to this room instead of the chief’s office? Do they wanna observe me for some reason? I got a strong sensation that someone is already watching me from the other side of the glass.

What the hell, if I’m gonna have fun with this, I might as well get started.

I walk right up to the glass, press my forehead against it, and cup my hands around my face to cut the glare, like I can see through it. Then I back up and give ‘em my biggest smile.

Two wire-mesh circles—microphones—jut from the wall to the left and right of the glass. I lean toward them and say cheerily, “How are you doing back there? Do I look all right?”

What’s the worst that can happen? If nobody hides back there, no harm done—one can only make a fool of one’s self before witnesses. If someone is there, then maybe I’ve irritated them a teensy bit. Fun stuff.

I sit again and fold my arms on the table. Patience.

Two minutes later, Chief Radlon enters the room with a deputy sheriff.

“Howdy, Chief,” I say. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

“This is Deputy McAllister from the sheriff’s office.”

We nod at each other. “You involved the sheriff’s department in this, Chief? Glad to see you’re taking it seriously.”

He looks at me like I have a booger dangling from my nose. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something more.

“I take it you’ve spoken to Hooper,” I say.

“I have. I’m sure he won’t be looking for you, Mr.

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