Family Reunion

"Oh god... Frank," Rose said as she fell on the floor sobbing. "Oh god... my heart feels like it is in a thousand pieces."

Frankito was screaming his head off as well; the sight of his daddy being arrested left the poor young boy very distraught.

"Frankito, daddy will be home soon," Claudia assured him before going over to Rose. "Rose get up, I can not stand to see you like this," Claudia said to the young woman whom she'd come to enjoy the company of very much.

"He hates me... he must hate my fucking guts. How? How could he do this? I want to know... I need to know why... ." Rose cried as Claudia sat her up and held her kindly.

"Frank is an unpredictable man Rose. I don't believe he stabbed your sister though. I mean even you can't believe that now can you?" Claudia asked.

"No... " Rose said as she tried to contain herself. "It felt like he was lying to me though... and oh god why with my sister? And how the fuck could she of done that to me? She's still just a member of my 'asshole family'. "

"Fucking bitch... I hope she F.O.D."

***

"Mr. Wright, please step through," an officer said who stood on the other side of a walk through metal detector at the Oakland Police Department.

Tré obeyed and stepped through which he had to repeat twice and was found only with his car keys and the watch on his wrist. "I think that's everything... " Tré muttered.

"I'll be the decider of that," the dinky police officer said. "Alright, come with me."

"Where are we going?" Tré asked as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Interrogation room... "

"Oh... wonderful," Tré said sarcastically.

Just then he was pulled into a room with a table and two chairs. The officer sat him down and disappeared. There was a panel of glass on the wall that was obviously a one way mirror for other people to witness the interrogation.

Tré swallowed back a lump in his throat. Never had he in his life felt as scared as he did at this moment. He looked down at table in front of him as he heard some one quietly enter the room.

"Mr. Wright?" a man's voice said.

"Yes... " Tré answered not looking up from the table.

"I'm detective John Wilson... ."he said confidently. Tré just sat blank and didn't say anything. The detective sighed, "Sir, 3 and a half hours ago, at 3 AM this morning your girlfriend's sister, Sarah Moore was stabbed once in the back with a sharp object at the Waterfront Plaza Hotel."

"Yes... " Tré said seriously.

"Sir, were you at the hotel this evening?" detective Wilson asked.

"Yes... " Tré answered again nervously.

"And what was your business at the Waterfront Plaza Hotel tonight with Sarah Moore?"

"I... umm... " Tré stuttered trying to choose the right words and not make a mess out of everything. "Sarah and I were having sex... "

"Now when you left the hotel suite was everything between Sarah and yourself normal and ordinary?" the detective asked.

"Oh yes, it sure fucking was ordinary... " Tré sighed.

"Let me withdraw that question and rephrase. When you left the hotel suite tonight were you and Sarah having an argument or was there any kind of hostility between the two of you?"

Tré sighed and sorted out his thoughts. "When I left the hotel suite Sarah and I had finished having sex and I told her I was going home to be with Rose. She wanted me to spend the entire night with her and I refused. So she attacked me with this sharp little object and in the struggle she got stabbed."

"So are you saying you stabbed her in self-defense?" the detective asked.

"I didn't mean to stab her, it happened in the struggle she might have even done it to herself," Tré lied.

"Sir, Officer Wiley tells me you admitted you had no knowledge of Sarah being stabbed before your arrest. And if you knew Sarah was hurt why did you just decide to leave the hotel?"

"Ah, because she was trying to kill me," Tré reminded the detective.

"Ah, yes of course," the detective said.

"I never fucking said I didn't know Sarah was stabbed," Tré said as he looked at the one way glass and glared because he knew Officer Wiley was surely watching the interrogation.

Just then the officer pulled out a plastic bag with something hard in it and slammed it down on the table. "Look familiar?" the detective asked.

Tré gasped and looked at the object closely. It was the ornament he had stabbed his fiancés sister with. But now that he could look at it closely he saw what it was; a stainless steel miniature replica of the Golden Gate Bridge. "It was dark in the room; like you said, only 3 in the morning."

"Your fingerprints are all over this little thing... " the detective said coldly at first. "But lucky for you Sarah's fingerprints are also on the object... The only thing that is saving your ass right now is Sarah was stabbed in a place where she couldn't possibly reach the item that was impaled in her back," detected Wilson said.

"Meaning?" Tré asked.

"Meaning either she picked up the object way before you stabbed her or she picked it up and tried to assault you. But either way we have no evidence on you right now," the detective said.

"So, does that mean I'm free to go?" Tré asked.

"Yes... but you are still a potential suspect," the detective said.

"I feel really bad about what happened to Sarah. I didn't want her to get hurt, I was trying to stop anybody from getting hurt," Tré added which was partially true because he wanted to stop Rose from getting hurt but had hurt her more then done any good
"Well maybe next time try keeping it in your pants," the detective added.

Tré nodded and got up slowly. "Ah, thank you. I don't know what else to say. I am just in so much shock right now... "

"We'll be in touch," detective Wilson said and he led Tré towards the door and opened it for him.

Tré walked back down the hall and through the metal detector again after being released from his handcuffs. He walked out to the parking lot and breathed in the cool morning air. He felt so free, he had only an ounce of guilt on his conscious and that was for hurting Rose.

Tré pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a cab company. "Hi, I need a cab from the Oakland Police Department to the... " Hmm, where was he going to go now? He wanted Rose to cool down before approaching her again, and once again he didn't even want to speak to Billie Joe because obviously he would already know the situation by now. Hmm... Mike again?

Ten minutes later a cab pulled up in the parking lot of the Police Department. Tré hopped in and directed the taxi driver to Mike's villa on the Westside of Oakland.

Tré paid his cab fair with his credit card and hopped out and walked up to Mike's front door. He was slow about knocking and just stood there for a moment. But as Tré lifted his hand to knock on the door it opened slowly.

Mike was standing there looking down tired and he bent down to pick up the morning paper before realizing someone was standing right in front of him. "Whoa!" he shouted and jumped back.

"Whoa!" Tré said just as startled.

"Holy fuck man... you're here. What the hell happened last night?" Mike asked as he pulled his friend into the house.

"The cops arrested me and then let me go... " Tré said happily.

"Holy shit how?" Mike asked.

Tré went on telling Mike the story of the interrogation room and what really happened at the Hotel that night.

"Fuck man I'm so happy. But shit... you stabbed Sarah... " Mike said.

"I know... you would have too if you were me," Tré said.

"Ah, I'm not so sure... " Mike said.

"Man, I haven't slept all night could I crash on your couch?" Tré begged.

"Yeah, of course man go ahead," Mike smiled.

"Thanks, I love you Mike," Tré said and he patted his taller friend on the back.

"Love yah too buddy," Mike said and he turned away as Tré went out to the living room to lay down.

Just then the phone rang and Mike sighed. He could kind of already guess who it was; he was surprised that he had not received a call even sooner.