“Yeah, sure. I just seen this s**t too many times. White people always talking about how race relations are so great in New Orleans because they can hold a conversation with black folks in the Wal-Mart. Black man gets railroaded into prison, they just shake their heads and blame the public schools and the welfare system.”
Everybody nodded, because they knew it was true. “Yeah, you right,” said G-man.
“So who killed the lady anyway?” said Marquis.
“Nobody knows,” Rickey told him. “Whoever it was, their DNA wasn’t in the database. They found out one thing, though—it probably wasn’t even a black guy.”
A depressed hush fell over the kitchen, and for a few minutes everyone went about his work with only the most minimal talk.
“Well, don’t everybody act like the guest of honor at a funeral,”
