Hate Crime

Prologue to the Case (3)

I looked at the empty box in dismay. The last goddamn donut. I looked back up and sighed. "Someone so young shouldn't be sighing like that." I inhaled the smell of freshly brewed coffee and looked to the left. It was an old acquaintance of my father's pouring a 'good-ol cup of joe'-at least that's what he calls it.

He was a little over 40 and he looked his age. He had some grays growing in on both sides of his low cut mohawk but some wave of hair drooped down to cover his reclining hairline-assuming that's what it covered. He had some wrinkles here and there but overall just a regular nice dudes face.

"You never know. Kids have changed since your time" I said while taking the coffee pot from him. He turned to lean his back on the counter. "Well I'm not THAT old" he said as he took a sip and I poured a glass. "Well IM not stressed", I said profusely, "that's just my face. Have you ever heard of this thing called 'resting bitch face'?" I acknowledged him as I drank. He shook his head slightly to the side then chuckled. "No I haven't but i can sure as hell guess what it is and say you got it" he laughed as he drank. Then his voice slowed to continue. "Did you hear about the fire in downtown Atlanta?",He swished his drink around," 10 people died in it. 10." He assured. "All they found were their bones and some useless junk. Nothing at all deemed useful to figuring out a subject. Not a damn thing". I looked down at the ground. Thinking of how to respond.

"What where they looking for? Gasoline? A lingering smell of gas?"
"Yeah...and none of which could even be proven to exist is the 'accident'", he scoffed," what a load of bull. It had to be murder or premeditated or something. There where children in there. Children"

He looked at me as if I had all the answers. The evidence to prove him right. But to be honest, I hadn't heard of the fire. Nor the 10 deceased or the poor children. But I answered anyways.

"Is anything gonna get paid for? The building? The people? The...the funerals?"
"No. Not a damn thing. That fucking insurance company down the way hasn't even given it a second thought!" He slammed his cup on the table. Hard enough for some to spill but luckily he had drank it all. "I swear...it's just...so sad" he looked at me then mentally slapped himself. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to unload this all on-"

"It's fine really. I honestly don't care if you unload or even dunk it on me. It's good to get your emotions out now rather then later". I gave him a gentle smile and he smiled back.

I knew it was tough for him. He had kids of his own and a nice family too. He knew what it felt like to go home to a family that he put together himself. He knew what it felt like to stay and love the same person for years on end. He was a family man and I respected that but...it was a little too cliche for me.

"Your a good kid Ace" he reached out to pat my head. The corner of my mouth twitched as I swiftly grabbed his hand. "I'm 24 Aaron. Twenty-fucking-four. Not 12" I quickly let go again. He nodded his head. "Ok badass", he over exaggerated, "but don't you have somewhere to be?" He nodded his head toward the interrogation room and my smile faded away in realization. "Oh shit"