Chamberlain
Well, that was strange. That boy sure did get his Irish up in a hurry. He looked terrible when we got there. Like he’d spent the night inside the bottle. You could smell the booze on him as he sat there sweating. And what did he have to sweat about?
Sure, they’d made up the part about the gun residue on his hand, those results wouldn’t be back for a week, they had to go out to the state crime lab, but Levesque didn’t know that. He hadn’t seemed so stressed about that.
You could see him start to redden and sweat a bit when they brought up his wife. There was something happening behind his eyes as he revealed she and Davis were close.
But the real thing, the one that surprised me the most was the cloud that came over him when I brought up his father. You could see his face darken. The sweat was still there, but the cloud of hate behind the eyes. That scared me.
He’d been so calm, so matter-of-fact in his recounting of the disappearance. He was cold to it. No emotion.
I had no idea they weren’t close. I knew his father was a hard man, but I would have never guessed he’d tormented his son to the point of complete unfeeling over his loss.
And yet, there was something about his revealing of their relationship, it just felt off. It felt like he was holding something back. I can’t put my finger on what.
It is some kind of strange coincidence the story being robbed ten years to the day after Levesque Sr. disappeared.
The kid was completely unfeeling.
Maybe he was just so hungover, nothing was registering? That’s a convenient out for him.
Chamberlain turned away from the fading figure of Levesque’s truck.
“No one in or out without my ‘ok,’ son,” he said to the young officer standing watch over the door.
“Yes, sir.”
Chamberlain started walking off in the direction of the station. Reilly had taken their car when he sent him away. He needed to ask him why he was holding such animosity towards Levesque.
