Famous (The Soul of the World Book 1) by David Skato (best book reader .txt) 📗

flames. County police line the country street as passersby rubberneck to get a view of the spectacle that has unfolded in their small town. It’s probably safe to say that these parts have never seen anything like this before. The nearest house was about a half-mile down, and something that resembled civilization was about 3 miles away. It had taken Dontae’ and Jessi an hour and three minutes to get there, and that time was probably pretty close to the amount that it took Chief Wilcox to arrive as he pulls up to the scene. He thunders over to the detectives as Dontae’ pulls the phone from his ear, indicating that he has just tried to make a call but is disappointed that he did not get an answer.

“What the fuck did I tell you two? Huh? You out here in the middle of nowhere playing motherfucking Bonnie and Clyde, blowing shit up over a goddamn publicity stunt! How am I going to explain this to internal affairs? You are out of jurisdiction, you didn’t have a warrant, and, and, and look at this place!” He screamed in a rage, stuttering, shaking, and sweating profusely.

“Vasquez blew himself up and tried to take us with him.” Jessi said, taking a drink of water from a bottle that a nice fireman gave her.

Dontae’ chimed in. “Chief, Rochelle is dead. This is her house, and Vasquez burned it down to hide something.”

“Hide what?” He asked, skeptical.

“Well, I don’t know. He didn’t give us a chance to find out,” He answers.

“And how the fuck did you come to the conclusion that this was her house?”

“From the pic-“he takes a look at the burning rubble. Realizing that he had no evidence and in the frenzy of smelling the gas, focusing on Vasquez, and seeing the pictures, it never dawned on him that this could be one of Rochelle’s family member’s residence. Maybe even her mother.

Chief Wilcox steps closer. “Let me tell you something, this is not Rochelle’s house asshole. Whatever little side information you gathered was incorrect. I came down here because I wanted to get to you before I.A. does. As a friend, Dontae’, I’m telling you to let this go. As your boss, I’m telling you that it’s in your best interest to give yourselves a narrative for being out here that’s better than investigating a hoax.”

“Chief, how long have you known me? Huh? Have I ever done something stupid like blow up a damn house? Tell me! Look around! You know something is going on. You know this doesn’t feel right?!” Dontae’ screams.

Chief Wilcox thinks for a second. He knows now that he has to take more drastic measures. He then shakes his head. “You both are on administrative leave until further notice. Give me your gun and badges.” He holds out his hands.

Jessi, now extremely agitated. “You shitting me right? We almost get blown up and we’re suspended?”

Wilcox responds. “You still on probation young lady you better watch it.”

Dontae’ takes his gun out of the holster and manages to slip Jessi’s out just as she charges Wilcox. Dontae’ grapples her by the waist before she could reach him.

“Hell no! You Forest Whitaker looking son of a bitch! Who do you think you are?!”

Dontae’ pulls her back as she screams.

“Jessi, get in the car!” he demanded as he opens the door and pushes her into the passenger seat.

“All those bumps on your forehead. Looks like a motherfucking star crunch.” She screams just before he shuts the door in her face. He walks over to Wilcox and then goes to the driver’s side. He gives Wilcox a last look before opening the door. “This is bullshit chief, and you know I’m not going to let it go.” He gets in the car and spins off with squealing tires echoing in the distance.

The drive back to town was quiet as they both reflected on the recent events. Jessi glared out the window as she picked glass from her hair every once in a while and tossed it to the floor. Dontae’ dialed Sandy multiple times but only got the voicemail. He wondered if she had gone to Suwannee yet or was she waiting for him to get home so that he could see her off. He remembered the engagement ring he had hidden in his car a few months ago. “Damn,” He thought. He wondered if it was still there. It should be. There was no need for the investigators to go inside the car.  He wanted to pop the question in a way that made Sandy happy, although he knew she would be happy no matter when or how he did it. She wanted to get married, and so did he. She was the one. He had waited so long for no reason other than he just never got around to it.  She didn’t pressure him, and things were so good he just forgot. She was his, and he was hers. They didn’t need a paper to tell them that.  He looked forward to growing old with her and sitting on the porch drinking cold iced tea talking shit about their children’s spouses. He loved Sandy, and she loved him.

Ω

It was deserted on the 27th block of harbor street in the Atlanta suburb. A plastic grocery bag tumbled down the dark road carried by a small gust of wind before getting snagged on a flickering streetlamp. Cats waled in the distance, hissing and yanging in a dispute that only they could understand. A saxophone played soft music from an open third-story apartment window. Dontae’ had heard this neighbor’s music before, and every so often, he would open his window to get a free concert.  Dontae’ and Jessi pull into one of the many empty parking spots that lined the road.

“You okay?” Dontae asked.

“I’ve been better.” She said.

“Don’t worry, the adrenaline will go away. I still don’t know why you won’t stay with us for the night.”

“With you and Sandy? I’d rather get blown