Levitt: Caught
Chapter 14
Porter Levitt read the morning paper, sitting in a booth in a Cheyenne diner. It was months after he had been tracked down in Seattle. His hair had been dyed a lighter color and the track marks down his forearm had almost faded. Like scars of past obsessions.
“Anything else I can get for you this morning?” the waitress asked, walking up to his table.
“Thanks, no,” Porter said with a smile. “I’ll take the check.”
The waitress walked off and another woman came and sat down at his table.
Porter nonchalantly looked up to see who his guest was. His eyes widened in utter shock—
“If I could find you, Porter, what makes you think they won’t?” she said sternly.
It was Sandra, Porter’s wife. She left him during the lean times after he left rehab but found his habit again. She couldn’t deal with the constant torment of loving and being married to someone who couldn’t be helped. She had been crazy enough to think that her leaving would be enough to get him to quit. And it was. Little did she know.
But Porter couldn’t go back to her. He felt he’d failed her. He decided he couldn’t go back until he’d fixed his life. On the other hand, he refused to go to prison. He couldn’t deal with being prosecuted. So he left to find some peace. He found it in the Rocky Mountains.
But he wasn’t just seeking peace. He was running. Last time he was in Washington, he was being hunted, he figured, for drug possession. He ran to as remote a place as he could find. He was only spending three or four days in a given down. But when he found Cheyenne, he stayed longer. It had been nearly 10 days. Now Sandra had found him.
“Have you been following me all this time?”
“Since the Black Hills,” Sandra said with a look. “I know why you’re running. But you’re crazy if you think they’ll never catch up with you. I managed it.”
“Sandra, why are you saying this to me?” Porter asked. She stared at him a moment.
“Because, more than anything else… I still care about you for some reason.” She put her head down to wipe her tearing eyes. “Don’t do this.”
Porter almost felt bad for her until he glanced over her shoulder and saw two men dressed in suits walk into the diner. They scanned the somewhat empty room. Porter knew the couldn’t create a scene so he made his getaway as quiet as possible.
He found himself next to a dumpster outside the back door and pulled a gun from his jacket. It was a revolver and he loaded the five bullets he had left into it. He held it in front of him as he walked to the front of the building looking for an escape.
He saw a large, black sport utility vehicle that the suit-wearing men must have been driving. He opened the unlocked driver’s side door and found the keys still in the ignition. He hopped into the seat, closed the door, and tossed his gun onto the passenger seat.
Suddenly, a man who had been sitting low in the back seat raised a gun to Porter’s head.
“Porter Levitt,” he said, “you’re under arrest.”
Porter Levitt read the morning paper, sitting in a booth in a Cheyenne diner. It was months after he had been tracked down in Seattle. His hair had been dyed a lighter color and the track marks down his forearm had almost faded. Like scars of past obsessions.
“Anything else I can get for you this morning?” the waitress asked, walking up to his table.
“Thanks, no,” Porter said with a smile. “I’ll take the check.”
The waitress walked off and another woman came and sat down at his table.
Porter nonchalantly looked up to see who his guest was. His eyes widened in utter shock—
“If I could find you, Porter, what makes you think they won’t?” she said sternly.
It was Sandra, Porter’s wife. She left him during the lean times after he left rehab but found his habit again. She couldn’t deal with the constant torment of loving and being married to someone who couldn’t be helped. She had been crazy enough to think that her leaving would be enough to get him to quit. And it was. Little did she know.
But Porter couldn’t go back to her. He felt he’d failed her. He decided he couldn’t go back until he’d fixed his life. On the other hand, he refused to go to prison. He couldn’t deal with being prosecuted. So he left to find some peace. He found it in the Rocky Mountains.
But he wasn’t just seeking peace. He was running. Last time he was in Washington, he was being hunted, he figured, for drug possession. He ran to as remote a place as he could find. He was only spending three or four days in a given down. But when he found Cheyenne, he stayed longer. It had been nearly 10 days. Now Sandra had found him.
“Have you been following me all this time?”
“Since the Black Hills,” Sandra said with a look. “I know why you’re running. But you’re crazy if you think they’ll never catch up with you. I managed it.”
“Sandra, why are you saying this to me?” Porter asked. She stared at him a moment.
“Because, more than anything else… I still care about you for some reason.” She put her head down to wipe her tearing eyes. “Don’t do this.”
Porter almost felt bad for her until he glanced over her shoulder and saw two men dressed in suits walk into the diner. They scanned the somewhat empty room. Porter knew the couldn’t create a scene so he made his getaway as quiet as possible.
He found himself next to a dumpster outside the back door and pulled a gun from his jacket. It was a revolver and he loaded the five bullets he had left into it. He held it in front of him as he walked to the front of the building looking for an escape.
He saw a large, black sport utility vehicle that the suit-wearing men must have been driving. He opened the unlocked driver’s side door and found the keys still in the ignition. He hopped into the seat, closed the door, and tossed his gun onto the passenger seat.
Suddenly, a man who had been sitting low in the back seat raised a gun to Porter’s head.
“Porter Levitt,” he said, “you’re under arrest.”
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