Chapter Twenty
Prince rode into work on his bike on Monday morning. He hadn't felt like facing the confines of a car, not after he'd finally opened himself up to what he really wanted.
He'd spent the rest of the weekend in Gabby's bed, feasting on her body, listening to her talk about everything and nothing at all. Sitting with her as she worked on her school projects while he wrote his report.
They essentially played house for two days while Diniece made herself scarce. Though Prince assumed she was hiding. Whether she was hiding from him and Gabby or hiding from Chief, Prince didn't know. Chief had been tough to get a hold of for the rest of the weekend as well. In the end, Prince assumed the two were hiding out together. It was better than blue balls, a bruised cheek, or a broken nose.
He'd kissed Gabby goodbye at the front stoop of her house. He'd mounted his bike, but stopped and stared at her before pulling on his helmet. She was a picture framed in the doorway. Her hair was tousled from their lovemaking during the sunrise. She'd pulled on a sundress, but that didn't hide her curves. She leaned against the frame in bare feet.
Prince nearly hopped off his bike and went back to her. But then he realized, he could have her at lunchtime. Then again tomorrow morning, and every night after that. He was going to marry her and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, having mornings just like this where she kissed him and sent him off to work.
He pulled the helmet down and took off for the city so that he could return to her as soon as possible so that they could start that life.
Prince pulled into the courthouse complex. Though the city was a major metropolitan, they didn't have an FBI Field Office. But there was a resident agency led by a supervising agent. Prince waited patiently as Special Agent Dawson reviewed his report.
Dawson turned over the last page with a grimace. He squinted and gave a shake of his head as he flipped the stack down on his tiny desk.
"It's all there," said Prince. "There were racial slurs exchanged before the race. Mr. Voigt admitted to me that the emblem on his race car was one of hate. He also admitted that he attacked the Watchers Crew race driver for a racial reason."
"But the victim that he attacked is a white male."
Prince nodded his head slowly, trying to follow the trajectory of Dawson's line of thinking. "Crow -Mr. Trent- is part of a diverse group of drivers. Roman was attacking that group."
"But only Mr. Trent was injured. Hate crimes are crimes against people of color, various religious groups, individuals who identify as LGBTQ, and people who have been historically attacked for their apparent differences. You can't extend that definition to the majority group. Mr. Voigt's attack doesn't fit the definition of a hate crime."
Prince leaned back. He squinted at the other man, then at the stack of evidence he'd compiled. "Are you telling me that if you're white, nobody can commit a hate crime against you?"
"I didn't make these rules," Dawson said.
"Hate can extend to everyone. Mr. Voigt appears to hate everyone that isn't like him. There are implications that he graffitied a community center filled with kids of Hispanic origin. If we let him get away, he will continue to commit more heinous acts."
"Hey, I'm on your side, but it's not enough."
Prince shoved away from the desk. He stood and began pacing the room. He felt the steam coming out of his ears. Was this asshole going to get off on a technicality? A racist one at that!
"You've got an even bigger problem," said Dawson. "Roman Voigt is the son of the chief of staff for the new governor. With the tension in this state after the election, this would create a media frenzy if we brought this case to trial and didn't get a conviction. And we do not have enough to get a conviction. We don't even have enough to make an arrest. Crashing is a common occurrence in race car driving. The track meted out its punishment. The state didn't find criminal fault. The victim isn't pressing charges. And now the governor is involved."
"So we're just going to let him walk." Prince didn't wait for an answer. He stormed to the door. "This is bullshit."
He marched out of the small office, and who should he bump into but the villain in this case. Roman Voigt was coming out of the Attorney General's office. Unlike the District Attorney who is elected by the people, which Samuel Hernandez was, an Attorney General was appointed by the President.
The AG shook hands with Levi Voigt while Roman smirked at Prince.
"You still want to have that talk, Agent Obademi?" the bastard asked.
Prince held his tongue. It was easy because he was concentrating on keeping his fists down at his sides. But his control snapped when Kemi walked out of the AG's office. She let out a long sigh as she saw him. She directed her client and his father towards the elevator. Roman winked at Prince before he headed into the opening doors with his father.
Kemi steeled her shoulders before she turned to Prince.
"Proud of yourself?" Prince asked. "You just put a misogynist, racist aggressive bastard out on the street."
"He hasn't committed a crime," Kemi said holding up her hands. "And since he's not a criminal, he still has rights."
Prince stepped away from her. "He violated the rights of others."
"Listen." Kemi reached for his arm. "I know you're upset. Why don't we go out to dinner and talk about it?"
Prince looked down at her hand. He couldn't fathom how he'd ever thought her touch anything other than poison. "I don't think that would be a good idea since we're on opposing sides of this case."
"There is no case, Prince."
"There will be. This isn't over. But we are. Or didn't my mother tell you, I'm engaged."
Kemi jerked her hand away from him as though it was he who had burned her. "To that little girl?"
"Gabby is more woman than you'll ever be."