Free The Car Bomb (The detroit im dying Trilogy, Book 1) by T.V. LoCicero

fuck outta here before I shove you up your own asshole.”
    Smiling as he headed out the door, Barnes said, “See ya, Frank. Give my best to Sherie.”
    Frank started after him. “You little cunt...”
    Johanson grabbed Frank in a bear hug before he could move more than a step. “Hold on, Frank. He’s not worth it.”
    Frank screamed, “Leave her alone, Barnes, or I swear to God, I’ll cut off your fuckin’ balls.”
    Everybody in the newsroom was up watching, some actually standing on chairs to get a better view, as Johanson continued to hug his franchise.

Chapter 31
    In well-worn boxers the black man was again sitting on his bare mattress and watching Frank on his ancient, small-screened TV. He was listening intently to the anchor’s well-modulated delivery.
    “ Police still refuse to say if Anthony Peoples is a suspect in the car bombing two weeks ago which took the lives of his wife and two children. But Channel 5 has learned that six months ago Peoples was charged with first degree murder in the shooting death of a security guard during the armed robbery of a party store on the Detroit’s westside.”
    When a mug shot photo of Anthony Peoples appeared full-screen, the man fingered a small video cassette next to him on the mattress.
    “ The charge against Peoples was later dropped because of what the Wayne County Prosecutor’s office called a lack of sufficient evidence. But police are investigating Peoples’ apparent underworld connections. His cousin, Richard ‘Pretty Rick’ Mahone, was reputed to be one of this area’s major narcotics importers. Mahone, who was said to prefer one of his other nicknames, ‘Maserati Rick,’ was murdered two months ago in what police described as a mob-style execution. Police have been looking for Peoples ever since a bomb planted in his car outside his westside home killed his wife and two children. Peoples was not believed to have been at home when the blast occurred. But he hasn’t been seen since, and police understandably have a few questions for him.”
    Frank’s delivery upped its intensity. “We at Channel 5 have offered to help Mr. Peoples safely reach the law enforcement agency of his choice and to tell his side of the story. Again, Mr. Peoples, if you’re watching...”
    In the hot, grubby little room the mattress was now empty. Frank was still speaking from the screen in fluttery black and white.
    “ ...please give me a call here at the station, and I will personally meet with you at the time and place of your choosing.”

Chapter 32
    On opposite corners of this bombed-out city intersection were a dirty, littered, sad excuse for a park and a crumbling, abandoned apartment building with the glass smashed in nearly every window of its four floors.
    Two groups of black males occupied the corners: one in their 40s and 50s in the park, lounging on broken benches or perched on crates, passing something in small paper bags; the other in their mid-teens in front of the apartment hulk, serving the drive-up trade at curbside.
    On a third corner the man who had been watching Frank so closely, now in wrap-around sunglasses, jeans and a Hank Aaron “755” t-shirt, walked to a phone booth, reached in and lifted the receiver.

Chapter 33
    In the WTEM control room, the newscast continued. On the line monitor Mary Scott was saying, “...and in just a moment Don Allard talks to the mother of that 14-month-old girl who was killed by a stray bullet that crashed through her living room window last month.”
    With a small flourish of his left hand the director said, “And black.”
    At a console next to the director, Dennis Clark pushed a button and leaned toward a mike. “Good work guys, right on the money.” In front of Dennis a phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Control Room.” Dennis paused and shook his head. “Ah, sir, he’s on the air right now in the middle of a newscast.”
    In the studio during the break Frank and Mary were shuffling through their