CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Again, the Chief slammed his hand on the best out of annoyance. “You don't call the shots here. I do. What do you think this is? Your world?”

Comfortably, “you just used a slot. Remaining two,” Clyde said, holding the Chief's gaze.

“You must be kidding me.”

“You're wasting both our time,” Clyde reminded him.

When he saw the seriousness in Clyde's demeanor, he sat. He desperately needed him to talk. “Who are you?” he demanded.

Clyde simply smiled and shook his head. “That's not relevant,” he said. “What's important is who you've been looking for.”

The Chief gritted his teeth. “We've been looking for you for weeks. Who are you? What's your real name?”

Clyde laughed. “Oh, my real name is the least of your concerns,” he said. “What you should be worried about is what the psychopath doing all this is capable of.”

The Chief narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Clyde leaned forward, his eyes blazing with intensity. “I didn't do it,” he said. “Because I'm innocent, that's why I'm