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(Page 2 of 7) Foreword + Chapter one-Book II - EKKO Thirty 6 Black Bees by Johnny Walker"What would CJ have to do with a automobile...crashing through the..." Dean turned to the policeman, who'd already stepped closer so he could eavesdrop on their conversation.
"What kind of automobile was it?" Dean asked the policeman.
"Some guy in a white limo. A witness said he had a fight with his girlfriend. Then she drove him over the edge." The policeman chuckled as he scribbled. "Literally."
"Bloody hell," Dean whispered, turning to Brandon. "CJ warned me about her..." He put his hand to his lips. "I had no idea that—"
"Do you know the suspect?" The policeman asked, taking another step closer.
"Suspect? Sounds like more of a victim to me, wouldn't you say?"
"If I had a dime." The policeman folded his pad and tucked it behind his back. "Just what do you know?" The officer threw a wary look at Dean and then faced Brandon. "How about you? Do you know the...victim?"
"I...I came outside afterwards," Brandon stuttered. "Some guy told me what happened. I didn't really...I didn't see anything."
"Which guy was that? Do you see him anywhere in this crowd?"
Brandon looked around for the vendor who had told him about the accident. "I don't see him now. He was loading up...a truck... an old green truck." Brandon pointed to his left. "Over there. He was pissed off."
"What was he loading?"
"Looked like a bunch of...of wood...I guess. Some baskets and wooden crates...I didn't really look at his stuff. I was..." Brandon put his hands in his pockets. "I was listening more than looking."
The policeman saw some pieces of wood lying in the street where Brandon had just pointed. He walked over and gathered a few splinters off the ground and held them close to his face.
"How long ago was that?" the policeman asked Brandon, as he headed back to the guardrails and held the splinters next to the busted railing. After spotting the blatant differences in the two types of wood, he threw a suspicious glance at Brandon from the corner of his eye. "I'm gonna' need your name and a way to reach you." He handed his business card to Brandon. "I'm Officer Travis. Do you live in Savannah?"
"Well, Officer, I—"
"I might need you to fill out a report."
"Like I was tryin' to say, I have a show in a few minutes. Can I—" Brandon's eyes popped out of his head when he realized what he'd just said. He faced Dean with a panic-stricken stare.
Dean's head sprung up, his face brimming with anxiety. "Flat out! The show!" Dean grabbed Brandon by his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "Brandon... where's CJ?"
"I...I don't really know, Dean. I was told...I don't know if it's true, but I heard ...I mean..." Brandon hooked his thumb to the left. "I think the vendor was talkin' about CJ...but I‘m not...I can't—"
"Brandon!" Dean shook him. "Where? Is? CJ?"
The policeman barged in again, interrupting their apprehension. "Is this, ‘CJ'...the man who was thrown into the river?"
Dean slung his hands up to his face. "Queen fucking Mary, no!" Dean peeked out through his fingers. "Tell me that's not where he is!"
"Umm...that's what I heard," Brandon mumbled.
Dean rushed to the guard railing and pointed down at the river.
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