Free Piece Keeper by Antwan Floyd Sr.

night, Love?”
    “You’re asking like you already know.”
    “I want your side of the story.”
    “Sorry, Waeltz. Fresh out of stories.”
    “Have it your way. Just remember having it your way
it may not turn out pretty.”
    Black continued watching the forensics team never
giving Waeltz any eye contact. “Your warning is noted.”
    “Have you always been this way, Love?”
    “How’s that, Waeltz?”
    “Stubborn.”
    “What’s that?” Black asked now facing Waeltz.
    “You’re not doing this alone. I’m here to help.”
    “It’s appreciated.”
    “It doesn’t seem like it.”
    “Are you looking for applause for doing your
job?”
    “Not at all.”
    “I don’t see the problem then. What do I need to be
appreciative of? You haven’t made any crucial breakthrough in this
case so forgive me if I don’t break my neck trying to give you that
hand job you think you need.”
    “Funny, Love. All I’m saying is—”
    Black cut him off. “Can we stick to the case at
hand?”
    “Sure can, Counselor.”
    “Thank you,” Black said as he turned and made his
way to the door. “Send over what you find to my office.”
    “Sure thing.”
    Black paused and turned back to face Waeltz. “Is
there another exit out of here?”
    “Not that I know of… I mean… possibly.”
    “Possibly?” Black asked rubbing his hands across his
bald head.
    “Follow me,” Waeltz said not waiting for a response
from Black as he led the way towards the rear of the room and down
the long hall that turned and curved as they came upon a dead
end.
    “What’s this? A dead end?” Black asked throwing his
hands in the air.
    “A possible exit,” Waeltz responded pointing up to
the ceiling.
    Black looked up in the direction Waeltz was pointing
to and spotted a door in the ceiling.
    “Does this lead back into the station some
place?”
    “I don’t think so. You saw how far we walked along
the hall down here. If I had to guess I would say we were out back
some place.”
    “You’ve never used it or heard of anyone using
it?”
    “Nope. Only thing comes to mind is old stories my
mom used to tell me about great, great grandma being an
abolitionist and helping with the Underground Railroad. She never
had proof. Just sort of took her word for it. She always told me
there were tunnels and hidden rooms in most of the old homes around
here.”
    “Well let’s find out where it leads,” Black said as
he jumped to push the door open. It didn’t budge.
    Waeltz held is hands up causing Black to pause.
“Wait a minute. First we have to dust it for prints and secondly we
can get a few uniforms down here with a ladder and help push it
open. Obviously it’s jammed.”
    Black nodded in approval. It didn’t take long for
Waeltz to return with two crime scene technicians and two uniformed
officers carrying a ladder. Black impatiently waited for CSI to
dust for prints then watched as the two officers and Waeltz worked
together to force the door open. There was a loud thud above their
heads. Waeltz was finally able to get the door to open slightly;
just enough to fit his body through up to his waist. Although it
was a struggle he was able to push away the desk that was blocking
the door from opening. Finally he was able to shove the door open.
Climbing out, he stood to the side looking around the shed as Black
climbed up and out behind him. Together they surveyed the room.
    “What is this place?” Black asked, dusting the dirt
off of his suit jacket and trousers.
    “Looks like it may be the old shed out back.”
    “Let me guess… the department doesn’t get out here
much either right?”
    “Not really. Place should have been torn down years
ago.”
    They both stepped outside. About 200 yards away they
could see the back of the police station. Following the dirt path
in the grass made from years and years of people trampling through
the grass they wound up on a side street with a side view of the
police station. As both men stood in