4
The local station is a short drive out of the town limits. It's a small, square building that sits on a patch of land in the middle of nowhere. The interview room is even smaller and squarer. There's a table screwed into the floor, two chairs, a door, CCTV camera and nothing else.
I notice the air con is turned off. And no offer of water, either. Not very friendly, if you ask me.
The sheriff doesn't sit down, either. She paces around the room, making slow circles around me.
"Are you gonna tell me what this is about?" I ask.
"Come on, Mr Ronsen," Dooley says. "You know far more about it than me."
I sigh and recline in my chair.
Dooley leans over the table and stares me in the eyes.
She narrows her eyelids.
"Alright," she says, straightening up. She leaves the room and returns soo
