24
Gabrielle
Deputy Pinkerton set up a video camera while I steeled myself for the interrogation. We weren’t in one of those dingy little interview rooms you saw on the TV, more of a conference room with windows looking out onto the parking lot. Special privileges? I suppose I had to be grateful for that.
It shouldn’t have been hard, simply telling Pinkerton what I’d seen, but every time I thought about what happened up on the hill, I pictured Reagan’s head exploding. Again and again and again. At the time, it had seemed quite surreal, and perhaps there’d been an element of shock involved, but now I felt nauseated. Siri had found me a cappuccino with two sugars, just the way I liked it, but I couldn’t drink a drop because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Sheriff Newman himself sat in on
