Free Piece Keeper by Antwan Floyd Sr. Page B

warrant Foster stormed
into the room wedging herself in between Waeltz and Black. “What
the hell is this?” she yelled as she snatched the paper from
Waeltz’s hand.
    “A warrant to search the premises,” Waeltz responded
as he pushed her to the side and made his way towards the door.
    “On what grounds?” she demanded as she took up the
rear following behind Black as they all headed outside. By this
point the neighbors were outside watching.
    “Probable cause… looking for, and found, evidence
that will indicate you in the rape of Teresa Prince.”
    “The hell you did!” she screamed staring at the
box.
    Waeltz held the box in the air and smiled. She
balled the warrant up and tossed it on the ground. She flipped the
bird to Waeltz and Black, grabbed her crouch, turned, and then
stormed in her house slamming the door closed.
    “That is one pissed dude!” Waeltz said laughing as
he watched Black pick up the balled up piece of paper and unfold
it.
    He glanced over the paper and looked to Waeltz
un-believingly. “This is a warrant for drugs.”
    “So?”
    “It’s not even for this address.”
    “A warrant is a warrant.”
    “It’s dated six months ago with someone else’s name
on it.”
    Waeltz hunched his shoulders as Black shoved the
paper into his chest. Waeltz watched it hit the ground. “Didn’t
want to take the chance of her getting rid of evidence while I
chased down a judge for a warrant.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding me right? Tell me you
didn’t just make me an accessory after the fact.”
    “Don’t worry, Love. This case is a slam dunk. I’ve
gotten convictions with less,”
    he said as he raised the strap-on from the box and
dangled in the air. “That look like blood to you?” Waeltz asked as
he held it closer to Black’s face.
    Black turned and headed for his vehicle.
    “Love, wait! We need to get our stories
straight.”
    Black stopped and turned towards Waeltz angrily.
Spit flew as he spoke. “Stories straight? You’re joking right? I
was never here and I don’t want to hear about anything you may or
may not have obtained from Officer Foster’s home.”
    “Don’t get high and moral on me now, Mr. Chi-Raq! I
know how y’all get down in the city. It’s been that way for years
from Capone to the Daley’s to Blagojevich to Jessie Jackson Jr. and
Mr. Barrack Hussein…right down to Yes-I- Can Obama himself.”
    Did he want to get in a verbal spat with Waeltz over
the blatant disrespectful and racist overtone he made with his
statement or just show him how they really got down in Chi-Raq as
he put it and break his nose? He chose neither. “I believe in the
law and due process. I was sworn to up-hold it. I thought you were
a man that possibly held similar values. What’s done in the dark
will soon come to light.”
    “Yeah, yeah… I know. And what goes up must come
down. Keep your clichés. I close cases.”
    Black snatched his door open, got in, slammed the
door closed, and turned the engine on as he rolled down the window
and stuck his head out. “Not with me, not in this way. And for your
information I worked on the Cain campaign asshole!” he blurted out
before putting the truck in drive and pulling off.
    ***

Chapter Nine
    The night was calm and soothing. Black and Morena
enjoyed the melodic sounds of calypso. Morena lay in his arms on
the back yard deck listening to Harry Belafonte’s ‘Jamaica
Farwell’. A week had gone by and the D.A. still hadn’t decided if
she would file charges against the chief, Foster, and Hunter. He
was getting pressure from back home to wrap this case up and get
back to Chicago. Cases were piling up and he was one of the best
D.A.s in the state. He took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri Morena
whipped up for them. Truth was he was ready to put all of this
behind him as well; win, lose, or draw, something needed to happen.
A tap on the sliding door took him out of his thoughts. He raised
himself slightly from the beach chair and peered