I’m Watching You

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Kay and Marc Conterato, for help on all things medical.

Sherry and Barry Kirkland, for so kindly inviting me to the Tonitown Grape Festival and answering my questions about bullets with nary a raised brow.

Susan Heneghan, for information on the structure and cross-functional workings between the Chicago Police Department and their forensic and prosecutorial counterparts.

Jimmy Hatton, Mike Koenig, and Paula Linser, for modeling the epitome of teamwork. Those were good years.

Chicago ,

Monday, December 29,

7:00 p.m.

The sun had gone down. But then again, it tended to do that from time to time. He should get up and turn on a light. But he liked the darkness. Liked the way it was quiet and still. The way it could hide a man. Inside and out. He was such a man. Hidden. Inside and out. All by himself.

He sat at his kitchen table, staring at the shiny new bullets he’d made. All by himself.

Moonlight cut through the curtains at the window, illuminating one side of the shiny stack. He picked up one of the bullets, held it up to the light, turned it side to side, round and round. Imagined the damage it would do.

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