I Will Love You Forever Pt. 2 Ch. 13

Peter's shoulder hurt like hell, but he refused to stay in the hospital.

"I'm fine and I want to be there when that bastard is interrogated. I have a few questions for him myself."

"Pete you need to take it easy. You can talk to him tomorrow." Trevor said.

"I'm going... where are my clothes? Peter asked looking around the small cubicle.

No amount of talking could convince him to stay. His mind was on Andrew Kelly. He wanted to know why he shot him and where the clip to the gun was. He also wanted to know who else Andrew planned to kill. His feeling was that men like Andrew Kelley didn't stop with one kill.

Trevor helped him put on his bloodied shirt and draped his jacket over his shoulders. He agreed with the doctors; Peter needed to go home. When he suggested it again, Peter gave him the look that told him back off.

"Let's go... I want to be there by the time he's in the interrogation room."

********

Andrew looked around the dingy cell with disgust and anger. The anger was at himself and at Kenji. In his mind, if Kenji hadn't been in his class, if Kenji hadn't gotten into the summer program, if he hadn't done this or hadn't done that; he wouldn't be sitting in jail. The anger at himself was because of his stupidity.

If he had taken the time to think about it, he would have realized that Peter was too good to be true. His background and viewpoints regarding the Japanese was too convenient. And he had fallen for it in his desire to have someone that he could rely on as his second in command. What were the chances that his choice would turn out to be a federal agent? He felt a little like Julius Caesar must have felt at the betrayal by Brutus.

What he didn't get was why Kenji warranted the protection of the federal government. After a few minutes he came to the conclusion that it was personal. Someone with clout was watching out for him and he wondered who it was.

In retrospect Andrew realized that he had made one fatal error. He didn't learn everything that he should have learned about his enemy. If he had, he would have done things differently; but he had let his anger and hatred lead him. It was a hard lesson learned and one that he would never forget.

He had to start learning to control his anger if he wanted to survive prison. He knew that was where he was going; it was a given. He also realized that he could be sentenced to death. That was a sobering thought. He could die while Kenji Takeda and his bitch would live happily ever after along with the Jew. He wished that he had used the woman more than he had. That was another thing that he had to change. From now on, anyone was game. Their ages and sex no longer mattered.

There was something wrong with the fact that the melting pot was free and probably celebrating his capture he thought as he stood up and walked around the small cell. He did wonder about his parents; his mother especially. Both of them had been so proud and now so disappointed. He had to admit that disappointing them was the only thing that he felt guilty about.

"I'm sorry mom and dad." He murmured.

The clinking of keys alerted him that someone was coming.

"Let's go!" A gruff voice said. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

Andrew hesitated but complied.

"Where are you taking me?" Andrew asked as he was led from the cell.

"You're going to the interrogation room; some folks want to talk to you."

Andrew took a quick glance around looking for an exit.

"Don't think about it kid." The police officer said tightening his grip on Andrew's arm. "You'd never make it outside and even if you did; where would you go?"

Andrew relaxed. The cop was right. He had just learned another lesson. When he got out of prison, if he got out of prison; he would surround himself with people that he knew he could trust. That trust wouldn't be easily given and would have to be earned. He also realized another error; he had made no contingency plans.

The cop took Andrew into a small interrogation room and left him there still handcuffed.

******

Harlan Kelly sat in another interrogation room with a tepid cup of coffee sitting in front of him. After he got to the station and confessed to Milton Vaughn's murder, he had been taken to the room and left sitting alone with the cup of coffee.

He had been sitting in the room for almost forty-five minutes before someone came in.

"Harlan? What are you doing here?" Peter asked when he walked in.

"Peter? Are you alright?" Harlan asked.

"I'm fine; but what's this I hear about you confessing to killing Milton Vaughn?" Peter asked.

"I did it." Harlan replied in a firm voice.

Peter gave Harlan a long hard look and sat down across the table from him.

"Tell me why you killed him."

"I...I don't know... he was giving Andrew a hard time...."

"Where did you shoot him?" Peter interrupted.

"I met him in the parking lot of the vacant grocery store." Harlan replied.

"No, I mean where did you aim your gun? Where was the shot that killed him?"

"I shot him in the face." Harlan replied.

"How many shots did it take?"

"One, but I shot him a second time to make sure." Harlan replied.

"Before that night, had you ever met Milton Vaughn before?" Peter asked.

"N...No."

"Then how did you know who he was or what he looked like?" Peter pressed.

"Andrew told me... look, I'm confessing and you or somebody has to take my statement!" Harlan exclaimed.

Peter gave Harlan a sympathetic look. He knew and understood what the man was trying to do but he couldn't allow it.

"Harlan, you're not helping Andrew by confessing to a crime that you didn't commit."

"I did it." Harlan repeated.

"No you didn't." Peter replied. "There was only one shot fired. That alone tells me that you didn't do it. Let's not forget that I heard you asking Andrew where the clip of the gun was and what he did. I repeat; you're not helping him."

"This is my fault." Harlan said softly.

"How do you figure?" Peter asked. "Andrew made his own choices."

"I knew that he was into something. I thought that I even knew what it was... but I didn't say anything. I didn't feel that I had room to talk. Andy was raised hearing me talk about other races in bad ways. I didn't think anything about it... they were just words."

"Harlan, Andrew would have killed anyway. I'm not saying that the way that you taught him to believe wasn't a factor, but Harlan; Andrew has a problem and you're going to prison for him isn't going to help him."

"And prison will?" Harlan retorted. "He's my son! He won't survive in prison!"

"I can't pretend to understand how you must feel." Peter said sympathetically. "I don't have children. I understand that you want to help and protect him, but it's out of your hands. You need to go home and be with your wife; she needs you."

"You won't let me confess?" Harlan asked.

"No." Peter replied.

"Can I see him? I want to be able to tell his mother that's he's alright."

Peter didn't answer for several seconds.

"It's not normally allowed; but let me see what I can do."

"I'd appreciate that." Harlan said softly.

When he was alone, Harlan let the first of many tears fall.

*******

"Are you sure it's over?" Patricia asked as she dried off.

"That is what Nick says." Kenji replied. "He will call back later with more details."

"We can go home!" Patricia exclaimed. "I can go back to school!"

"Yes Kirei, we can do both of those things." Kenji said quietly.

Patricia looked at him surprised that he wasn't more excited.

"Kenji? What's wrong?"

"I am glad that it's over, but Kirei; it is another life wasted."

Patricia walked over to him and hugged him. She understood what he was saying, but she was glad that Andrew was in jail and hoped that he stayed there a good long time.

"Kenji I'm sorry, but he chose to do what he did. I understand what you're saying; but I don't feel sorry for him. If I feel sorry for anyone; it's his parents."

"I know." Kenji said returning the hug. "But it is still a waste of life and that saddens me."

Patricia didn't reply. She didn't feel quite the same way Kenji did. While she agreed that Andrew had wasted his life, she also believed that one reaped what they sowed. He deserved to be where he was and if he killed Milt Vaughn, then he deserved whatever happened to him. But then Kenji's father had been in on the plan to kill her and she had prayed for him and she eventually forgave him. She wondered what the difference was and finally understood why Kenji had been so long in forgiving his father.

"I'm just glad it's over." She said kissing his chest.

"As am I." Kenji replied.

*********

Ernie looked over his notes and finally gave up. He was much too nervous to concentrate. Andrew's thinly veiled threat kept coming back to him. He had no doubt that Andrew meant it and had no issues with admitting that he was scared. He was seriously rethinking whether he should be meeting with Kenji and Ernie the next day. It would be like putting an even bigger bull's eye on his back.

He examined his options. He could take his chances and not get the help which would mean failing the class or he could take his chances and meet with Kenji and Joel. The first option would save his life, but the second option would save his academic life.

"Damn." He muttered as he continued his internal debate. He asked himself what would be the worst possible thing that could happen if he failed the class. "I wouldn't graduate." He murmured. Then there was the money. Things were already tight and if he had to repeat a class; he didn't know where the money would come from.

He thought about talking to his parents; but he already knew what they would say. They would tell him to drop out of the class and retake it. They would tell him not to worry about the money and that it would come from somewhere.

Ernie wasn't much of a gambler. He never even played cards for match sticks and now he was gambling for his physical and academic life. The night passed slowly as he continued his debate about whether to keep his appointment with Kenji and Joel.

*******

Andrew sat at the small table and looked around. If possible, the interrogation room was dingier than his cell. He moved his hands testing strength of the chair that he was handcuffed to. It was useless; he couldn't break free. He looked up when he heard someone at the door.

"Andrew." Peter said when he walked in.

Andrew looked at him but didn't respond. Instead he tried to force tears to come to his eyes. He didn't think that it would work; but he had to try.

"Save it." Peter said. "It won't work and spare me the I didn't know what I was doing spiel. It won't work."

Andrew smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't think that it would, but I had to try. Tell me Pete, how does it feel to turn on one of your kind?"

"You're not one of my kind." Peter replied. "There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?" Andrew asked.

"You're father." Peter replied. "He came to confess to the murder of Milton Vaughn."

"Are you here to release me?" Andrew asked.

"Why would I want to do that?" Peter asked. "There's still the attempted murder charge and you did shoot a federal agent."

"I didn't shoot you; my father did." Andrew said.

Peter was stunned. The sick bastard was really going to let his father take the blame for him.

"You would have no problems with your father going to prison for you?" Peter asked.

"He said that he did it didn't he?" Andrew retorted.

"But that doesn't mean that he did it." Peter replied as he sat at the table across from Andrew.

"But you don't know that he didn't." Andrew replied.

"As a matter of fact I do." Peter replied. "First, he didn't know how many shots were fired. Second, he was surprised that the clip of the gun was missing and he wouldn't have been stupid enough to keep the gun. That's something that an idiot would do. Third, I heard him ask you where the clip was and then what you did. It was you who shot me, your father didn't know about the second gun.

What amazes me is that your parents clearly love you. Your father was willing to go to prison for the rest of his life for you and you're coward enough to let him."

"I'm no coward!" Andrew protested.

"No?" Peter asked. "Then tell me this; why would you let your father go to prison for you? If you're so damned proud of what you believe; then why keep it secret? Why not walk up to Kenji and say, I hate your guts and I want you dead? Why the games? To me everything that you did including hiding in your little group tells me that you're a coward."

Andrew's face burned. He had been called a coward before and it angered him now as much as it had angered it then. Then he realized something, he didn't have to carry the burden of guilt alone. After all; he was just an impressionable young man and ....

"I didn't do this alone."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. This was more than he had hoped for. He knew that there had been a group on campus; but they didn't know who the leader was. Even if they did know; all they would have been able to do was watch him.

"Who helped you?" Peter asked.

Andrew hesitated for several minutes.

"If I tell you, I want the death penalty taken off the table." Andrew said. "And I want a lawyer. I'm not saying a word until he's here."

"Alright, but you do realize that no deals are going to be made until the information that you give us is verified." Peter said.

"What do you mean?" Andrew demanded. "I'm giving you information!"

"And it needs to be verified." Peter repeated. "Did you think that we would make a deal with you based on your say so?"

That was exactly what Andrew thought would happen.

"It's the weekend so you'll be a guest of the city until Monday." Peter said. "And even though it's against procedure; I'm going to let your father see you."

"No... tell him to go home." Andrew said.

"Why? Are you too afraid to face the man that you were going to let go to prison for you?" Peter asked.

"Tell him that I'm fine and that he needs to go home and take care of mom." Andrew replied not responding to the jibe.

Peter didn't move for several seconds.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked. "This will probably be the last time you see him other than in court."

Something about those words struck Andrew.

"You're right... let him in."

******

A million thoughts went through Harlan's mind as he waited to see Andrew. The biggest of them was what he could have done differently. He refused to believe that his son was born a killer... he would have known.

He realized that he did know and he had turned a blind eye. Just as he had turned a blind eye to the hatred that he felt coming from his son. He also disagreed with Peter on another point. Part of this was his fault and nothing would convince him otherwise.

Suddenly, Harlan remembered Eleanor. He politely asked to use the phone and called her. She was frantic with worry for both him and Andrew. It broke his heart to tell her that there was nothing that he could do to help their son.

"No honey, he isn't coming home...I don't know... sweetheart I'm going to talk to him and then I'll be home. I'll explain everything soon... yes a pot of coffee would be nice."

Harlan hung up his throat tight. The offer of coffee seemed absurd given what was happening, but he understood. Whenever Eleanor was stressed or frightened, she did something domestic to help calm her nerves. He had no doubt that there would be another apple pie if not two waiting for him when he got home.

He tried to think of how to tell her that their son, their only child was a murderer and that he had been planning to murder someone else. Harlan tried to understand how it could have happened. It had to have been more than Andrew hearing him talk badly about other races. Then he remembered the empty look in Andrew's eyes even while he was smiling.

"Harlan? You can come in." Peter said from the doorway.

Harlan went to the door, walked into the room and headed for the chair.

"Don't sit down." Andrew said softly.

Harlan readjusted his crutches and waited.

"I don't want you coming back here to see me. I don't want mom to see me here either..."

"Andy..."

"No listen to me." Andrew said. "It's going to be bad enough as it is when this hits the papers. People are going to blame you for what I did and it isn't your fault. I know that you tried to take the blame for me... and I was going to let you. If there was any way to let you go to prison for me; I'd do it and wouldn't look back.

Now go home to mom and tell her that I'm sorry. One more thing; don't come to the trial. Stay home. You don't need to go through that."

"Explain this to me." Harlan said softly. "Help me understand why you killed that boy."

"I don't know that I can." Andrew replied. "He challenged me and he lost."

"This was about a challenge?" Harlan asked.

Andrew didn't answer Harlan but looked at him.

"I don't understand. What challenge?" Harlan asked.

"Andrew was the leader of a racist group at school." Peter explained. "From what I can piece together, Milton Vaughn was a member of that group. He questioned Andrew's authority because he wasn't dealing with a certain group of people decisively enough to suit him."

Harlan looked at Andrew as if he had never seen him before.

"Andy...is this true? You led a group like that?"

There was no point in lying so Andrew told the truth.

"Yes it's true and yes I was going to kill that damned Jap! He had no right to be in that class! He has no right to be taking the place of a white American citizen. He has no fucking right to live in a house that's nicer than ours! Him and his damned people bombed this country and what happens? They get rewarded! As far as I'm concerned they're below the coloreds! I'd rather see a colored person sitting next to me in class than a Jap! At least they didn't bomb us and they didn't ask to come here.

While I'm being honest; I was scared when I shot Milton. I didn't want to it, but I had no choice. Afterwards I was still scared; but I liked it."

"Andrew." Peter said softly, "Are you aware that you just confessed to murder?"

"I know what I did!" Andrew snapped. "But I didn't tell you the name of the real leader of the group did I? I'll wait until my lawyer gets here before I divulge that little piece of information. Now get him out of here and if he comes back I don't want to see him."

Harlan stood frozen. The term shell-shocked came to mind when he tried to put a name to what he was feeling. He had listened to his son confess to murder and then admit that he liked it. He didn't move when he felt hand on his shoulder urging him toward the door. He looked at Andrew with eyes filled with tears and walked out.

Andrew watched his father walk out on his crutches with a mixture of emotions. There was sadness because he had hurt them so badly. No matter what he had done, he loved his parents. He also experienced relief. His secret was out. He no longer had to pretend to be other than what he was. He also couldn't deny that he was afraid. He didn't want to die and if throwing Michael Hathaway to the wolves prevented that; then he'd do it.

The door opened again and Detective Briscoe walked in and sat down.

"Was it worth it?" Briscoe asked. "You had your whole life ahead of you..."

"I really don't care to hear how I could have been a productive member of society. I'm going to prison so just spare me the speech." Andrew said his voice icy.

Briscoe looked at Andrew assessing him.

"That's a pretty good front that you're putting up." He said. "Keep it up; you're going to need it."

He pushed a paper and pencil over to Andrew.

"Write out everything that you told the agent and don't try to change it. Several of us heard your confession and I doubt that your father will lie for you again."