Free The Intern: Chasing Murderers, Hookers, and Senators Across DC Wasn't In The Job Description by Dale Wiley Page A

figured that out, I knew who it was. The body was covered
and the paramedics were taking it away. It looked to be about the same size as
me but quite dead. Timmons’ killer had listened to my answering machine and
gone to Stephanie’s expecting to find me, and he thought he had. He found Roger
instead.
    Before finishing, the reporter pointed out my run-in with
police the day before, when I had reported the burglary. This made it look like
I was the criminal who wanted to outsmart the police right under their noses.
Great.
    I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. I knew at that
moment how Elvis must have felt when he shot that TV in Vegas, but I was also
quite sure I’d get arrested if I did the same thing. Stephanie had obviously
seen my face on the news this morning and had mentioned her connection with me
to the police; they had put two and two together and gotten twenty-two.
    I hoped my masseuse would come sooner than the police,
although now I wasn’t so sure. I was on a killing spree. I looked like today’s
lunatic, the guy who should’ve been a postal worker, a cult figure to write instant
books about, and remember during holiday trivia games. I lay motionless,
staring up at points on the ceiling for what seemed like weeks.
    Finally, the masseuse came, and I told him I was Senator
Stanky’s nephew. He was a burly man named Howard with forearms the size of
bowling pins and a crew cut so short he might as well not have bothered. I
avoided looking at him directly, hoping he wouldn’t have any great interest in
the news of the day. He got a better look at my backside than my face, and for
that I was eternally grateful.
    Despite my disappointment in not getting some gorgeous Swede
named Ursula or Helga, he did a great job. Of course, this was my first
massage, so I had little to compare him to, but he succeeded in making my arm
feel slightly better, though only after he made it hurt so bad I nearly puked.
He told me he didn’t think anything was seriously wrong with it, but I’d be a
little sore for a few days. A little sore! I thought. Howard must’ve
been a tough guy.
    Howard left a little before one after I told him to put a
forty dollar tip on the bill—I’m really quite generous when it’s not my money
in question—and he said, “Thank you” in a very genuine way.
    Before he even left the room, I was practically as tense as
before. I needed to sleep, but I kept thinking about my car in the garage and
my ass in a sling. I was on the “thirty days to an ulcer” plan. I turned the TV
back on and caught the same news segment I had seen before. The anchorwoman
added that I was also suspected of having burglarized the NEA offices early
that morning.
    This was when I officially began to feel numb. It probably
should’ve happened earlier, but, unlike all of the other crimes I had been
accused of, when I heard about that one, I remained unfazed. Maybe it was that
this crime was less severe; perhaps, it was the realization that consecutive
life sentences are no worse than a single one. I don’t know. I still didn’t
want to get caught, but it really felt inevitable. People who had known me only
at the height of my doughboy stage were still able to spot me in a crowd; it
was only a matter of time before someone else did.
    And if I was going to be caught, I decided I might as well
be well-rested.

Chapter
----
    Twelve
    I  fell into something that greatly
resembled a coma, more like hibernation than sleep, dreamless, and dark. I woke
almost three hours later, still tired and feeling almost feverish and quite
grumpy. This was before I recalled I was wanted by every major law enforcement
agency in the country.
    Before I went to sleep, I had tried to convince myself that
if I gave my unconscious mind a chance to work on the problem, I’d have a plan
worthy of an Ian Fleming novel up my sleeve before I awoke. Now, my unconscious
was plenty rested but still no plan. But one thing kept gnawing at me, and I
knew