Free Swift Justice: The Southern Way by R.P. Wolff

was cuffed to the table. There was no chance of escape—not that Leon even thought about escaping.
    Leon hoped that this would all be over soon. He knew he didn’t do anything. The cops should be looking for the guy who actually killed Lucky and his men.
    Leon noticed that the Sheriff remained standing while Sam and Junior sat across from Leon.
    “Leon, Leon, Leon, you in a lot of trouble, boy,” the Sheriff began. “You are in a lot of fuckin’ trouble. You’re going to fry in that electric chair. What the fuck happened last night?”
    Great, Leon thought. This was not starting well. “Look, sir, nothing happened. I mean I didn’t do anything. I was going to be hung … by Lucky and his two guys. And they actually had the rope around my neck. They handcuffed me. They put leg cuffs on me. And then they had the rope on me, and they were ready to lift me up. Then someone … some wonderful person comes out of nowhere—”
    “Wonderful person?” asked the Sheriff with annoyance.
    “Well, when you’re ready to die, anyone that saves you, in my opinion, is a wonderful person.”
    “You better shut the fuck up, boy, about that,” the Sheriff interjected. “Don’t go saying a wonderful person when three of my best friends are dead. You shut the fuck about a wonderful person.” The Sheriff paused. “So go on with your stupid story.”
    “Okay, this person comes—”
    “What did he look like?” asked the Sheriff.
    “I couldn’t see him. He was all covered. So he comes and shoots them all up. He shoots them up, kicks them, and then shoots ‘em twice. I thought he was going to shoot me for a moment, but then he takes the noose off from around my neck. Then he gives me the keys. My handcuffs are behind my back, though. He doesn’t undo the handcuffs for me, and then he runs away. I don’t know where the hell he went, but I never saw him again.”
    “What did he say to you?” asked Junior.
    Leon noticed that the Sheriff shot Junior a stern glare that probably meant for Junior not to say anything.
    Leon paused to think about Junior’s question. “You know, I don’t think he said one word.”
    “Did he have a car?” asked the Sheriff.
    “You know, I don’t know. He must have had a car somewhere because it was a long walk. You know, I couldn’t imagine that he walked back.” Leon then realized that he, Leon actually walked and ran back. “I didn’t hear a car engine, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I just wanted to get out of there. If he had a car, he must have parked it far away.”
    “Go on,” instructed the Sheriff.
    “So then I got the hell out of there.” Leon decided not to mention the small inexpensive items that he took out of the car, which were the flashlight, water, and towel. Who knows, the police might press charges on him for stealing as an easier reason to keep him behind bars. “I walked back and headed home, and then I came here.”
    “Did you go to your house?” asked the Sheriff.
    Leon regretted saying that he was going home. He should have said that he was going straight to the police station to report the crime. Leon had to recover.
    “No, I actually never did go home. But when I say home, I went to my neighborhood.” Damn, Leon was pissed at himself again for saying that he went to his neighborhood, which would not be a direct route to the police station.
    “Why didn’t you just go straight here if you were so concerned with telling everyone what happened?”
    What Leon wanted to say was that a straight route would have taken him through white neighborhoods, which was dangerous for Negroes at night, but he couldn’t tell the Sheriff the obvious.
    “Well, you know, I wanted to get home. I almost died.”
    “This is a bunch of bullshit. You expect us to believe that some mystery person came out of nowhere and shot them up? You sure it wasn’t your brothers? Your papa? This is not a job of one person. Three people died, and they were all armed.”
    The