Hood Ornaments

They reached the final bridge heading into the city.

“You sure you don’t wanna go see Trudy?” Sticks asked.

“And do what? Break her heart all over again?”

Sticks nodded, “Okay then.”

“Youngin, I had this long speech prepared. But I see now, you know what to do.”

Dell just nodded.

The mood was heavy.

Somber.

“When Leek…, make sure y’all take care of him.”

“Indeed,” Sticks replied.

They reached their destination and parked. Dre got out of the truck, nodded, then went inside the building. He pushed the doors open and walked over to the large receptionist desk.

It was actually quiet in that lobby.

Peaceful.

Dre knew he wasn’t going to have that kind of peace for a very long time.

“Excuse me ma’am?”

Lynn, as usual, didn’t look up from her computer screen.

“How may I help you?”

“You know those three bodies they found in that building there?”

Lynn kept typing, “Not personally. Why?”

“Because I am turning myself in for that.”

That made Lynn look up.

Simultaneously, she pressed a little red button on her keyboard. In seconds, two exceedingly armed officers came into the lobby followed by detective Ross. The officers stood on either side of Dre. Ross raised an eyebrow and motioned to them with his hand.

“Put him in interrogation room one.”

He then looked at Lynn who was already back to typing.

“Radio Farrell.”

“On it.”

She waited until she heard the interrogation room door open and shut, before she picked up the radio and pressed the button. Farrell, almost magically, appeared from the back. With a smirk on her face Lynn said, “I gotta get me one of these for coffee.”

Farrell looked confused.

“Nothin. Ross wants you back in one.”

“For?”

“Probably nothin, but some nut job confessed to the warehouse murders.”

“Jesus, just what I need more paperwork.

Lynn chuckled, “Welcome to my world Farrell.”

Farrell sucked his teeth and walked down the hall leaving Lynn muttering to herself about coffee and being taken for granted. When he reached room one and peeked in the window, he saw Dre calmly waiting for Ross to return. He walked down the hall to look for Ross who was coming out of his office with a clipboard.

“Ross, let’s make this quick, I wanna get some breakfast before I head home.”

“Yeah, I have psych on stand-by. This won’t take long; especially since the Watts girl is on her way.”

Farrell pulled open the door, a chair across from Dre, a pen out of his pocket, and snatched the notebook from Ross, who scowled at him.

“What? Told you I was hungry.”

He then half-heartedly focused his attention on Dre.

“You hungry? You’re a big man. You want to go eat?”

“No sir.”

Farrell blew a puff of air out of his nose.

“Okay, you don’t look like the type to me, but I could be wrong. You need a fix and a place to sleep it off?”

Dre knew was worried this would happen. It’s been over fifteen years since he-- died. He was pretty sure that no one on the street knows who he is anymore. The cops that did know him then either assumed he was dead or wouldn’t recognize him now. This was going to take a little longer than he expected.

“I appreciate your kindness and all; but I am not homeless, and I damn sure ain’t a junkie. I know you know why I am here. I came here to turn myself in for the murders in the basement of that building downtown.”

Farrell’s face was reddening with anger.

“Now see, you’re right. You’re not homeless. Not a junkie, but you are a fuckin nut case.

And there are two reasons why. Number one I am off the clock, and as I said earlier hungry as shit. So you’re fuckin with me. And more importantly, there’s an owner for those bodies already.”

“I know that.” Dre replied with annoyance.

“Oh you do, do you wise ass? Well if you know that shit already, why the fuck are you wasting my time?”

“Cuz Tori Watts didn’t do it.”

Farrell whipped his head around, looked at Ross then back at Dre. Ross took this opportunity to intervene. He put his hand on Farrell’s shoulder to calm him, but he stood in defiance.

“Farrell, let’s go outside for a minute. Get some air, and I’ll order breakfast.”

Farrell charged at the door like a baby rhino and flung it open so hard it hit the wall. Ross didn’t even acknowledge Dre before he walked out and escorted his partner to the rear of the building.

“Aye yo Farrell calm down. What’s got into you? I told you I’ma call psych to come get him when we are through.”

Farrell frowned and took a deep breath.

“That mook ain’t crazy. If he was he wouldn’t know our suspect’s name!”

Again Farrell charged the door. This time it was to get back in the room. Ross verbally interrupted him.

“You want the usual?”

“I’ll eat after I figure out what the fuck is goin on.”

“I’ll treat?”

“Yeah yeah, get me the usual then. I’m gonna find out this guy’s story.”

Farrell went back into the room and found Dre in the same position he was in when they left. He again flung a chair against the wall and sat down.

“Are you mad at that wall, or are they out of home fries downtown?”

Farrell was either a good actor, or he was surprisingly calm. He even chuckled at Dre’s sarcasm.

“Okay funny guy, let’s get down to business here. You say you killed those guys cemented into the wall of that basement?”

“That’s what I said.”

“So you are confessing to that crime?”

Dre was becoming a little more than annoyed at this point.

“I do believe I have stated that at least twice since I walked into this building.”

“You do believe huh? Well my partner still believes you are looney tunes, but now I’m willing to hear you out. And typically when a mook confesses, I don’t give a rat’s ass why. I book him. That’s it. But I’m curious…”

Ross rejoined them in the room.

“Psych is here.”

“I’ll only be a second Ross. Like I was sayin, why on earth would you confess to murdering three boys and burying them like that hmm?”

Dre took a deep breath because after his next statement he knew there was no turning back. And it was still hard for him to imagine. Let alone say. He looked each of the detectives in the eye and said.

“Because they gang raped my daughter.”

Both detectives seemed stunned and remorseful, but Farrell had to keep his tough guy act up.

“Oh yeah, nut job? Who’s your daughter?”

“Tori Watts.”

Ross whispers something into Farrell’s ear and leaves the room. Farrell shakes his head slowly.

“So that makes you Andre Watts? Well unless you’re middle name is Jesus and you resurrected after a decade or so, you have until my partner comes back into this room before I let psych come in here and take you away.”

Dre was becoming more and more annoyed with each passing moment.

“Look. I am sitting right in front of you. I know I must have some priors and my fingerprints are in the books. Check my prints. Shit take my blood. Anything to prove it to y’all that I’m not crazy.”

Ross reentered looking disappointed.

“The body in the morgue was charred beyond recognition. It was cremated.”

“You hear that Andre; you were cremated.”

Ross sat down and started flipping through files.

“Okay so let me see if I have all my ducks in a row so to speak? Victoria Watts is your daughter. You’ve been dead for over a decade, yet you are right here. She is being held on murder charges that you are now confessing to?”

Farrell’s cell phone rings and he walks to a far corner of the room in hopes Dre wouldn’t hear the person on the other end. After a few stunned exclamations, and several –yes sirs, affirmatives, and understood, Farrell sighed and hung up the phone. Ross raised his eyebrow.

“We can’t talk to him anymore; his attorney is here.”

Dre frowned quizzically, “Attorney? I don’t have an attorney.”

In walked Reginald Chambers with a briefcase and an assistant named Ms. Dupas.

“Yes you do Mr. Watts and detectives, y’all know the drill. I need to speak with my client. Alone.

Please”

Disgruntled, Ross and Farrell vacated the room.