As the plane landed at Chicago O’Hare International Airport, the same place the pink pill had touched down almost four years earlier, Jared got a text message from Tarbell. The jury had deliberated for a mere three and a half hours. “Guilty on all counts.” Jared smiled as he walked to his Pervert Car and drove back toward his house, where he walked inside and was gleefully greeted by his son, who asked, “Did you catch the pirate, Daddy?” “Yes, we did,” Jared said as they fell onto the couch to play video games together. “We caught the pirate.”
