Reilly calls the cops

For the first time since awaking less than an hour ago, Reilly had the ability to pull himself from the current of the swirling undertow that was his morning; he had the phone after all, he could get some measure of justice for Muriel's murder. He clenched his jaw and growled, “You sick bastard. I'll make sure you get the electric chair for this, and everyone else who had a hand in it as well.”

He expected some smug retort, or even a plea for leniency, but instead the line was still. Reilly punched off and quickly stabbed the 911 numbers. For a fleeting instant he was terrified he'd lose signal, or that his battery would die, but the call tone passed through the earpiece and into his ear and he relaxed a little, a sense of triumph over evil spreading into his bones. The other end rang again, and a perverse little voice inside his head wondered, Maybe nobody's there...

But then the ringing stopped with a click. Reilly was about to launch into his morbid tale of discovery as soon as the 911 clerk answered, but his lips instantly stilled and his saliva dried in his mouth.

“You didn't really think we'd let you notify the police, did you?”

It was him, the emcee. Reilly's shoulders dropped as if he'd been gut punched. Son of a bich.

When the emcee next spoke, his voice was thick with menace, his words were slow and clearly enunciated. He was enjoying this, “Oh. Speaking of the police, Reilly. I feel obligated to tell you that the cops are on their way to your exact location. Maybe you can already hear their sirens.”

Reilly hadn't noticed because they were still too far away, but the unmistakable wail of the sirens in downtown traffic cut through the early morning air and carried all the way down to the warehouse district.

Again Reilly found enough courage to add venom to his words, “Good. I have a few things I want to tell them.”

“Oh? Said the man with the obvious motive, standing over the dead body of the woman who destroyed his marriage. Sounds like a slam-dunk case to me, surely. I betcha they won't even arrest you or anything. Maybe you and the cops will all go to Red Robin for lunch.”

The venom was gone, “But I didn't do it!”

“Ooh, I can hear the sirens over the phone. They must be getting pretty close by now.”

Reilly slunk to his knees. He spoke into the mouthpiece, and the words were there but the conviction was absent. He sounded like a broken man, “I will kill you for what you've done. I will find you and I will kill you for killing that innocent girl.”

“Innocent? Hardly! I've heard adultery is a sin, by the way. Now I generally make it a point not to interfere with the contestants. After all, it is your decision... but I really think you should run.”

The End

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