27
Hectored
I still had no idea who my persecutors were. And were they one and the same with my bosses? Or their enemies, perhaps?
The most recent instant message was the most ominous:
"Hey Rollo,
How about a nice game of Doom?"
When I was a kid, I'd been obsessed by that computer game. This person either knew me or had debriefed someone close to me. It would be natural to assume, for example, that the Feds had interviewed my mother after I was arrested. But she'd remained aloof, and as far as I knew dismissed both my father and me as disappeared persons.
Vivi would have been such a convenient suspect for the message pranks, but I began to think my pinning the wrap on her was a form of denial. Dork nagged at me, sounding at once familiar and bizarre, and the double meaning of Doom w
