Free Side Effects: An FBI Psychological Thriller by Jeff Menapace Page B

my good old noggin to take it to the next step and offer me a peek into this whacko’s mind, I just might be able to start tapering my dose of the drug back to that therapeutic and less harmful range again.
    Assuming I still cared about living.

CHAPTER 12
    Joe Pierce walked into the camera shop right before closing. Born Jody Pierce, he’d insisted on “Joe” for over a decade now. Jody was a pussy name, a girl’s name.
    The young male employee behind the counter greeted him with a chummy smile. “Hey, man, how can I help you?”
    “I was in here a few months back. I bought an infrared camera.”
    “Oh right! I remember now. How’d it work out for you?”
    “Pretty good. Only got to use it once though. Next trip was kinda…cancelled last minute.”
    “Ah geez, that sucks. What can I help you with today?”
    “I’m interested in a headcam.”
    “Oh yeah? For anything in particular?”
    “Spelunking,” Joe lied. “I’d use it for caves.”
    “No shit?” The young man slapped a hand over his mouth and looked around the store. No one was there. He giggled and said, “Pardon my French. Spelunking, huh? You got bigger balls than I do, bro.”
    Joe cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
    “Digging around in caves? Eff that .”
    “You’re afraid of caves?” Joe asked.
    “ Hell yeah, man. Imagine if one of those things came crumbling down on you? Buried you alive?” He performed an exaggerated shudder. “ Brrrr! ”
    Joe Pierce looked suddenly repulsed. “You’re a grown man,” he said. “How can you be afraid of something? Something a girl would be afraid of?”
    The young man took a step back from the counter. “I was just saying, man.”
    “So, you’re afraid of being buried alive, is that it?” Joe said.
    The young man had no more room to back up. He started sliding to the left of the glass counter. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he said.
    Joe started laughing.
    Nervous reflex soon had the young man laughing too. “What is it?” he asked.
    “Just an amazing coincidence is all,” Joe said. “Can you show me what you have now?”

CHAPTER 13
    I’d only just closed my eyes when there was yet another knock on my motel room door. I rolled out of bed and began cursing Morris under my breath as I dressed.
    I looked through the peephole and there he was, receding hairline as prominent as ever through the funhouse lens. I decided to skip the Rogaine joke this time and just open the door and give him crap for waking me.
    “You know, a phone call works just as well,” I said as I opened the door.
    Morris wasn’t there.
    I poked my head outside, looked left and right down the line of motel doors. “Tim?”
    He wasn’t there.
    I looked farther out, towards the rows of cars in the motel’s lot. Was he hiding among them, playing a stupid game?
    “Tim?”
    My peripheral vision caught something in the distance. A man, walking away from the lot, heading east towards the strip of road that separated the motel from the field beyond. He was mostly silhouetted by streetlamps and the motel sign, but it looked like Morris.
    “ Tim? ” I called.
    The man didn’t turn around, just kept on going, looking as if he meant to cross the street and venture into the field.
    “Is he sleepwalking?” I said to myself. Then, to the man in the distance again: “ Tim Morris! ”
    Still he didn’t turn around.
    Maybe it’s not Morris , I thought.
    Well, it was definitely Morris looking into your peephole just now.
    True. So then where the hell did he go?
    Out by the road. The man in the distance is Morris.
    How could he have gotten from my peephole to the road so fast?
    Logic was buying into time. If that was indeed Morris in the distance, sleepwalking and about to cross the street, he could be in danger.
    I went back into the room, grabbed my hotel key, my jacket and a pair of shoes, and started after him—
    STOP.
    What?
    Check his room first. If he’s there, you know the guy by the road isn’t Morris.
    It looks