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

scripts. Frank said, “Hey, Mare, you ever tried this Ice stuff, smokeable speed? I hear it’s great for PMS.”
    “ Shove it, Frank.”
    Dennis’s amplified voice filled the studio. “Frank, a guy on the phone says he’s Anthony Peoples.”
    Dropping his script, Frank said, “Put him through.”
    Dennis: “You’ve got less than forty seconds.”
    The phone buzzed under the desk, and Frank picked it up. “Hi, this is Frank DeFauw.” He paused, pulled a pen from his suit coat, turned his script over and wrote on the back. “Okay, I’ll be there by 7:30.”

Chapter 34
    On the street corner the man in the sunglasses still held the receiver.
    “ One other thing, man. I’ll know if you’re bein’ followed. So make sure you’re not. Or the trip’ll be for nothin’.”
    When he hung up, his eye caught something scribbled with a black marker on the plastic window of the booth next to the phone.
    detroit im dyin
    only come here on a dare
    detroit im dyin
    dont you even fuckin care
    He had seen this someplace else. Spray-painted on the wall of a school off Cass Avenue. So some wanna-be poet was loose on these desperate streets, or maybe others were copying it here and there.
    Whatever, the words were lodged with an ache at the base of his stomach.
    Moving out of the booth, he swept his gaze from the enterprising youngsters on one corner to the broken down bench brigade on the other.
    Then he walked away, wondering how long he could keep hiding in plain site in this god-forsaken city.

Chapter 35
    With maybe two hours of daylight left, the sun low and in his eyes, he slipped on his shades and drove the Viper quickly through light traffic. Checking the rear-view mirror he noted a black Taurus a block and a half back. He made two right turns. The Taurus was still back there.
    Thirteen minutes later the Viper pulled up at the covered side entrance to the Westin Hotel in the huge multi-building Renaissance Center complex on the river. As he slid out of the car, a valet guy was on him quickly.
    “ Frank, how are you this evening?”
    “ Hey, good. I’ll be awhile.”
    “ Very good, sir.”
    Heading for the entrance, he glanced about 40 yards up the street and found the Taurus stopped at the curb.
    Once inside he kept the shades in place and walked with pace through the lobby past a huge floral arrangement on a marble-topped table. As ususal it was quiet in this cavernous place, and drawing none of the usual greetings and stares, he turned down a circular corridor lined with a few shops and eating places and, moving quickly now, headed for another, larger lobby off an entrance on another side of the complex.
    When he emerged from the riverside entrance, he promptly flagged a passing cab. Sitting low in the backseat, he slipped a furtive look at the empty entrance as the taxi pulled away, and the cabbie asked where to.

Chapter 36
    The sun was still up in the west over the city. From this roof-top corner of a three-story building, there was a clear view of both streets converging to form an intersection below. Little or no traffic moved in this mostly abandoned industrial area. Finally a taxi was headed this way, moving up one of the streets that fronted this building. A car followed the cab but then turned off on a cross street.
    From inside the cab Frank took a close look at what used to be a small factory. From the rotting plywood covering the windows and the crumbling masonry, it appeared nothing had been produced here in many years. The cabbie stopped in front and said, “You sure you got the right address?”
    Frank got out. “Just keep it running, buddy, and wait here.”
    From the rooftop corner, the black man in the wrap-arounds watched Frank stand next to the cab, glance up and down the empty street and move to the entrance.
    To Frank’s surprise the battered old door opened easily. The hallway inside was dark and decrepit and filled with a stench so bad he could hardly breathe. Maybe dead animals, he