“Sounds to me like you’re a man ready to snap,” Roose said.
“Not that I’d blame ya. I’ve seen, me, some tough times, my friend,” Conklin said.
“Maybe I said something that drove her away,” I admitted, and it felt, strangely good; like a bit of freedom falling over me.
“Why would she go away?” Roose shuffled in his chair; his beady-eyed gaze fixed on me.
“Look at me,” i laughed despite myself, “i’m not the greatest catch, Detective!”
“There’s worse,” a rare show of humanity from Det. Roose.
I shrugged. My head hurt, and cradled it in my hands.
“Is she dead?” i blurted.
This must have surprised the two detectives because they looked at me perplexed.
“Is she dead?” I iterated.
“I’m afraid we can’t say,”
There came a knock at the door, and a woman with too much makeup opened up to beckon Roose outside.
“What’s happening?” i asked the fat one.
“You’re guess is as good as mine, Jack,” he said, “We’ll give Det. Roose a few minutes. Are you hungry?”
I shook my head. Fat fuck! “Shouldn’t you be looking for my Mary?”