Free The Killing King of Gratis by Jay Jackson

was the first to talk.
    “Let’s go over to CJ’s and see what we can find out. I can definitely see Buster being involved in something like this. I know all his brothers, and they don’t really value human life. Hell, remember Tomasso?”
    Tomasso was Buster’s big brother. He was pulling a fifteen year stint in the state penitentiary for cutting a man’s face off while his wife and children watched. It was basically a drug deal gone bad, but Delroy saw the pictures and read the reports. Nobody does what Tomasso did, with what one witness described as a “happy grin,” without enjoying his work. Buster was never indicted, but everyone knew that Tomasso was collecting drug money for him. Owing money to Buster was like borrowing a dollar from the devil. One could never pay the interest on time.
    “We do that and there’s gonna be blood all over the place. Let me rephrase that, there’s gonna be our blood all over the place. That’s Buster’s backyard. Let’s figure out something better than that.” Kero knew that CJ’s was nowhere for two “detectives” to be found on any night, especially if they were asking about Buster’s potential involvement in a murder. Two detectives could go missing pretty quickly in that part of town.
    “Well, we can’t go to Tommy. He’ll mess it up, arrest Buster, and arrest us since we spoke with Newt and won’t tell him where he is. What do you think we oughta do?”
    “Let me consider it tonight. Nothing’s going to happen if we start again in the morning. It’s been a long day bouncing around in my truck, and I’m gonna finish this barbeque and maybe go get some more.”
    This sounded like a solid plan to Delroy. He and Kero planted themselves into a booth at Daddy Jack’s, ordered some drinks, and talked about the day. A cover band was singing an old Tams song down in the Rendezvous, and “Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy” drifted up the stairs as the two talked into the night. Soon their tale-telling turned to high school and family memories. They both laughed as they ordered new drinks, the laughter getting louder with each new round.
    Delroy walked home after a couple of hours to sleep. He was able to forget his troubles, if only for a few stolen moments, sitting with an old friend in an even older red booth. He needed this time to stop worrying, to recalibrate his mind. There would be plenty of time to worry tomorrow, and all the hot summer days after that.

17.
Whatever it Takes
    T ommy was getting tired of anything to do with Millie’s case. He was a decent man and didn’t like thugs being part of the investigation. That didn’t stop him from meeting Franklin Knox at the country club that morning, along with Freddie Boyles and Tim Motte, II.
    Knox was calling these meetings every three or four days to get updates on his daughter’s case and chew ass if he wasn’t satisfied. That morning he was in the mood for the latter, sitting there with a bloody mary in one hand and the Proclaimer in the other.
    “I was just reading Johnnie Lee’s column and it sounds to me like she knows as much as I do, you damn idiots.”
    Knox took the celery out of his drink and started gnawing on it. Red drops dribbled down his chin and onto his white shirt. “Tommy, maybe you need to hire her and let her take over the investigation, maybe we need our first female sheriff in this county.”
    “Look at what she says here: “It seems Attorney Jones has been seen leaving town with the saloon keeper. These good friends of Newt MacElroy travel freely wherever and whenever they want, and still MacElroy is free. Moreover, my sources at the Sheriff’s Office tell me that Attorney Jones’ nephew and niece, surely two of the main witnesses in this case, are nowhere to be found despite efforts to the contrary. No witnesses, no arrests, nothing. While a town and father grieve, our Sheriff’s Office stands by and does nothing, hands in pockets.”
    “Well, gents, it goes on and on.