Free Stone de la Bru Familia by Peter Mack Page A

humble. 
    Stone didn't want to answer any questions nor did he want the detective to get a look at him. Mabel stood silently next to her son, following his lead. 
    "What do you need to know?" Stone asked. 
    “Well… We simply have some questions regarding a woman who was murdered a couple days ago. She lived at Sweetwater Manor. We'd like to ask Mr. Sweetwater a few questions about her. Maybe he can help us find out who killed her." 
    "Where was she killed at?" Stone asked, thinking maybe the detective would give him an answer other than the alley where she was found. 
    Detective Briggs straightened a little, his head lifting from its balanced posture. His blue eyes flashed, undoubtedly feeling disrespected at being kept in a blind position.  
    "And with whom am I speaking?"  
    Mabel nudged Stone in a way to tell him that it was his responsibility to be forthcoming. There was no sense in hiding from the police if he didn't have to. There was no shame in answering a few legitimate questions. 
    Stone reached for the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. The detective looked to him with severe calculation. What he saw was the diamond encrusted medallion swinging from his young neck. It may have cost his salary for the past ten years. His eyes scanned across the "Live Rich Die Ready" and he no doubt associated the gold star and crescent with Islam. When he looked to Stone's eyes he'd made his judgment, but it was not the one he soon learned suited Stone better. 
    "I'm Stone Sweetwater," he said, standing before the detective on the porch. It was going to be a good day, Stone thought to himself as he felt the warmth of the sun wash across him. Mabel stood between the space of the open screen door. 
    The surprise of Stone's announcement forced a crooked grin to spread on the thin lips of Detective Briggs. "Well," he hedged, those beady blue eyes shifting to Mabel for some sign that this was some sort of joke. 
    Stone relaxed his focus and looked out to the street where  tall trees gathered the sun and dispersed it along the shaded sidewalk. The white man's Chevy Malibu was parked at the curb. 
    "My mom is cooking breakfast," Stone said as a reminder to the white man that he was on borrowed time. 
    "Yeah. Smells good, too," the detective responded, rolling onto the balls of his feet. At this Mabel closed the door and stepped out onto the porch. 
    "Okay. Well. I suppose my first question is if you noticed anything strange around the… Around your building leading up to Wednesday night?" 
    "Naw. I don't spend a lot of time over there," Stone replied. 
     He thought to ask the white man if he knew who was investigating the murder of Candi and if he thought that this might have something to do with it, but decided against this. He didn't like police. Sure, he liked the protection they offered regular people, but he wasn't regular and didn't need his protection or service. 
    Detective Briggs nodded. "Yeah. I spoke with your manager yesterday afternoon. She says she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary." He gazed at a spot above Stone’s head before looking back to him and asking, "Were you very close to her?" 
    "Naw. She was just a tenant. I didn't know she lived there until just now." 
    "Really?" 
    "Her name ain’t  on none of the rent receipts." 
    The fat head nodded again. "She lived in  number four, right?" His eyes squinted with this question as if it was hard to ask. 
    Stone saw through him right away. "I don't know. I'll have to ask the manager." 
    "Oh, yeah. That's right. I believe…" He looked to his notes. "She lived with a Mr. Gerald Hopson. Know him?" 
    "Just the name. You have to ask the manager for anything more specific," Stone reiterated. 
    "Yeah," Detective Briggs breathed out. I suppose you don't know her movements from way over here."  
    He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a plain white business card. "If you have any