A Field of Poppies (13 page)

****

J.T. Walters swagger ended the moment the cop handcuffed him to a table fastened to the floor and shut him inside an interrogation room alone. He stared up at the mirror on the opposite wall and knew from watching TV that the other side was like a window, and that whoever looked in, could see him. He wanted to act tough, but he was worried. This was the first time he’d been busted since he’d turned eighteen and the laws were no longer in his favor.

He wondered what Big Boy was thinking and hoped he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, although that was hoping for a lot. Big Boy wasn’t all that bright and J.T was worried he wouldn’t remember about the age thing and that it would change how they might be charged.

It never occurred to him to wonder what it was they’d been picked up for because they’d done enough in the past to get arrested for most anything. Still, just to make himself feel better, he looked straight up into the mirror and gave himself the finger, well aware he’d just ‘told’ whoever was looking at him to ‘fuck off’.

****

“
Look at the little bastard,” Kenny muttered.

Mike nodded. “I see him. So let’s go take that smirk off his face. What do you say?”

“
Hell yes,” Kenny said. “You’re the lead on this case, but anytime you want me to scare him, just nod.”

Mike grinned. “It’s too bad you don’t enjoy your job.”

Kenny shrugged. “You gotta take it when you can get it. Let’s go rattle his cage.”

They walked around the corner and then into the room. Kenny slammed the door behind him.

J.T. Walker flinched then glared as the two cops took seats on the other side of the table. He knew how this worked. Good cop/bad cop. The taller younger cop would play good cop. The shorter older one the bad cop. He lifted his chin and stared in their faces without comment.

Mike slid a file onto the table in front of him.

“
I’m Detective Amblin. This is my partner, Detective Duroy. Did the officers read you your rights when they brought you in?”

“
I know my rights,” J.T. muttered.

“
Answer the question,” Mike snapped.

J.T. frowned. So maybe his IDs were off. Maybe this one was playing bad cop.

“
Yeah, they read me my rights.”

“
Do you know why you’re here?” Mike asked.

“
Cause I’m a bad boy?”

Mike leaned forward. “Your fingerprints were found inside a car that did not belong to you. Want to explain how they got there?”

Understanding dawned and if he was smart, he just might talk his way out of this.

“
It was raining. We needed wheels. It was there on the banks of the Little Man with the door open and the engine running. Yeah, we took it. But it’s not like we stole it. It had been abandoned. And we didn’t take it far. We left it at the station where it would be found.”

Mike’s instincts told him that had come freely and with a ring of truth. He glanced at Kenny then looked away.

“
What time was that?” Mike asked.

J.T. frowned, thinking back. “It was late. After midnight but other than that, I ain’t sure.”

“
What were you doing at the river that time of night?”

They could see the kid weighing his options when he suddenly shrugged.

“
We was smoking weed under the bridge, okay? No big deal. Then it started to rain.”

“
And you needed a car to get home and didn’t want to walk all that way in the rain so you took one that didn’t belong to you? Is that right?”

J.T. shrugged.

Mike glanced at Kenny who jumped into the conversation with both feet.

“
So you yanked a drunk out of his car, pumped his belly full of bullets and drove yourself home, is that how it went down?”

The kid’s eyes widened. His mouth went slack. That was definitely the bad cop.

“
No, man. We didn’t kill no one. That car was empty like I told you. I don’t even own a gun.”

Kenny slapped the table. “So your buddy was the shooter. But you had to help throw the body in the river, because the man you murdered was a real big guy. If you’re not the shooter now’s the time to say so. It will keep you off death row. You better talk now because when we go talk to your friend and he rolls over on you, your chance is gone.”

“
No! No! We didn’t shoot no one. No one, I tell you.”

Mike stood up and headed for the door. Kenny followed.

“
Hey! Where you guys goin’?” J.T. asked.

“
To talk to your friend,” Mike said, and shut the door behind them.

They paused out in the hallway and looked back into the room through the two-way mirror. The kid was in full-blown panic.

“
We should have known they wouldn’t own up all that easy,” Kenny said.

“
Do you think he could be telling the truth?” Mike asked.

Kenny snorted lightly. “I don’t think that boy’s told the truth since he learned to talk.”

They moved down the hall to another interrogation room where Marlin ‘Big Boy’ Barnett had been stashed. There was no two-way mirror in this room and when they walked in abruptly, the skinny teenager handcuffed to the table actually jumped.

“
Man, like what’s goin’ on?” he asked. “This situation is whack. You guys just show up and slap me in handcuffs without no explanation whatsoever. You can’t fuckin’ do that.”

“
And yet it happened,” Mike said shortly, and sat down across the table, thinking Big Boy’s nickname was overrated. He wasn’t much over five feet tall and so skinny his pants wouldn’t stay up. “My name is Detective Amblin and this is my partner, Detective Duroy. Why do you think you’re here?”

“
I ain’t got a clue,” Marlin said.

“
Did the officer who brought you in here read you your rights?”

“
Hell yes, and wouldn’t tell me why.”

Mike leaned forward. “If I told you that we found your fingerprints inside a stolen car, what would have to say about that?”

Marlin’s eyebrows arched then his lips went slack.

Mike could almost hear the wheels turning in the teenager’s head. If he admitted to it, then it linked him to a dead man. The trick was to explain away the fingerprints without linking them to a murder.

“
I ain’t got nothin’ to say,” Marlin muttered.

Mike glanced at Kenny. “I told you this one would be the dumb one. You owe me five bucks.”

Rage spread across Marlin’s face. “I ain’t dumb.”

“
That’s a matter of opinion,” Mike said. “I’m standing here telling you we found your fingerprints inside the car of a murdered man and all you decide to do is clam up.”

Like J.T., the word murder sent Marlin into a tailspin.

“
What the hell you talkin’ about, man? We didn’t murder no one. We just took the car. I swear!”

“
Oh, so you did take the car?”

“
Yes. Hell yes, we took the car but we didn’t kill no one.”

Mike shook his head. “That’s not what your friend, J.T. is telling us. He’s pointing the finger at you as the one who pulled the trigger. But why did you do it? Did the man come at you? Were you scared? Did he come at you and you two panicked? Is that how it went down?”

Sweat began running out of Marlin’s hairline, down the back of his neck and into his eyes. He swiped at the sweat with the back of his hand as the tone of his voice rose an octave.

“
No, sir. No way. We didn’t see no guy. We didn’t shoot no one.”

Mike kept pushing. “And yet your fingerprints are in his car.”

Marlin started to cry. “Me and J.T. were under the bridge smoking pot, man. Mindin’ our own damn business and smokin’ a little weed. That’s all. I swear.”

Now Marlin was wiping away sweat and tears. The only thing left was for Kenny to draw a little blood to go with it.

“
No! That’s not all,” he shouted. “You killed a man just so you wouldn’t have to walk home in the rain!”

Marlin started to sob. “No, no, that’s not how it went down!”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes, he thought.

“
Then how
did
it go down?” Kenny said.

“
We was smoking weed like I said. It started to rain but we thought we’d just wait it out under the bridge. Then the storm got worse and we figured we was just gonna have to get wet to get home. It was thunderin’ and lightnin’ and the wind was blowin’ something fierce. I told J.T. we was gonna get struck by lightnin’ but he said it was either take our chances with the storm or drown in the river so we come up out from under the bridge.”

Kenny tapped the table. “And that’s when you saw the man sitting in his car, right?”

Marlin was shaking his head so hard he was slinging sweat across the table.

“
No, no. I keep tellin’ you. We didn’t see no man. We was comin’ up the slope when some crazy old homeless guy come runnin’ through the rain tellin’ us to run, that the devil was comin, that he was on the bridge and we were gonna die.”

Kenny blinked.

Mike took a deep breath. Okay. It wasn’t the confession he’d expected.

“
So now you’re claiming a homeless guy was the killer?”

“
No, man, no. I’m sayin’ we didn’t see nobody die and we damn sure didn’t see no body layin’ around. Just that homeless guy wavin’ his arms and yellin’ like a mad man.”

Mike suddenly flashed on Prophet Jones coming out of nowhere on the bridge the day of the downpour and how he’d nearly run him down. He’d been yelling something about the devil, too. What the hell?

“
That doesn’t explain your fingerprints,” Mike said.

Marlin yanked at the handcuff around his wrist in frustration. “The crazy man scared us. We was runnin’ away when we saw that car. The door was open, the engine was runnin’ and nobody in sight. We jumped in and drove away, then left it at that all-night gas station. We didn’t steal it, man. We just borrowed it to get away from that crazy man.” The kid shuddered, as if a huge weight had just lifted off his chest. “And that’s the truth, so help me God.”

“
So, the fact that J.T. fingered you as the shooter doesn’t change your story?” Mike asked.

“
You’re lyin’,” Marlin shouted. “J.T. wouldn’t say that cause it didn’t happen. I’m done talkin’. If you’re gonna accuse me of murder, I want a lawyer.”

Chapter Eight

They headed back to the interrogation room where they’d left J.T. stewing, and paused at the window to look in. The kid was laying across the table with his buried his head in the crook of his arm. His shoulders were shaking.

“
Looks like this one’s bawling, too,” Kenny said. “What do you make of all this?”

“
I want to hear the last half of his story again before I make a call,” Mike said. “He didn’t mention anything about a homeless man before.”

Walker’s head came up as the door opened. When he saw the cops, he began swiping the tears off his face.

Mike sat and leaned back in the chair, balancing it on the back two legs as he eyed the teenager.

“
You boys didn’t get your stories straight. Marlin’s got a different story to tell.”

“
Like how?” J.T. cried. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“
Then tell me again,” Mike said. “You were under the bridge smoking weed and it started to rain, right?”

The kid nodded. “Yeah, yeah, man. That’s right. Smokin’ weed. It started to rain. We thought we’d wait it out but it just kept getting worse. Thunder was so bad sometimes it would thunder one right after the other... and lightning was bad, man, and the water was rising.”

“
Thunder doesn’t come in multiple rumbles. It thunders. Then it will lightning. But thunder doesn’t go boom boom boom boom,” Kenny said.

“
Well it fuckin’ did. It thundered three times in a row cause I heard it,” J.T. said.

His hand was shaking as he reached up and scratched his head. The blue Mohawk was so weighed down with hair gel that it all moved in one piece.

Mike struggled with the urge to lean back, hoping there weren’t any lice in it, too. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had to delouse an interrogation room but it always gave him the creeps for days afterward.

“
We won’t quibble about the thunder,” Mike said. “So the water was rising. Then what?”

“
So we ran out from under the bridge toward the river bank. The lightning was striking all around us and I thought we’d get hit and-” J.T. paused. “Oh hey, wait. I almost forgot about that crazy man.”

“
What crazy man,” Mike asked.

“
You know, that old homeless guy. Sometimes he preaches in the park. I think they call him Preacher or something like that.”

“
Are you talking about Prophet Jones?” Mike asked.

“
Yeah, yeah, Prophet. That’s the one.”

“
So you saw Prophet. So what does he have to do with you boys killing a man and stealing his car?”

Mike saw J.T.’s eyes begin to water. He was scared and that was good. Scared meant he still wanted to talk his way out of it. When they got pissed or knew they were caught, that’s when they lawyered up.