Page 120 of Tito

He reached for the letter and handed it to me. “Read it.”

I unfolded the letter and did as he asked.

Detective Ted Gottschalk,

The typed confession described below is made without coercion, and the confessor is of sound and solid mind as of this writing.

Furthermore, this confession is given with the agreement that the prosecution of the confessor will include a lifetime of incarceration. As part of the typed agreement, the death penalty will not be sought for punishment of this—or any other—instant offense brought against the confessor.

I, Brock Cashton Flannigan, did, on or about the early morning hours of July 18, knowingly and willfully kill two armed police officers while active in the commission of a crime.

Although there were other parties present, they were unaware of my whereabouts and further unaware of my actions, including, but not limited to, the murder of the aforementioned officers.

To clarify, I acted alone.

My eyes welled with tears, preventing me from continuing. I had read no more than the first quarter of what was typed. I lowered the confession and looked up. “Cash, you can’t—”

He snatched the letter from my grasp. “Already did.” He folded it and tossed it to the other side of the table. “In the future, you fuckers won’t be able to say anything about me but good shit.”

“God damn it, Cash…” There was so much I wanted to say before Ted got back, but I couldn’t get the words to come out.

I cleared my throat.

Cash wiped the tears from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Just make sure to take care of Kim, my mom, and the baby, will ya?”

Overcome with emotion, I could barely speak. “Cash…you can’t…this is on all…it’s on all of us.”

He coughed out a tearful laugh. “Hell.” He clenched his fist and held it between us. “From what I recall, you weren’t even there, little man.”

I glanced at his fist and shook my head. “No.”

“Pound it, ‘midge,” he demanded in a broken voice.

“No.”

He raised his fist. “Pound it, before I catch another case for pounding your ass right here.”

Out of my peripheral, I saw Ted come through the door Carrying a plastic case. I glanced at Cash’s clenched fist.

“I love you, Brother,” he whispered.

I pounded my knuckles against his. “I love you, too.”