A Federal Offense by Larry L. Lynch

             “Sorry,” the guard turned to call after her.  “I’m no lover of the coloreds, causing all the riots.  Kennedy should have been more careful who he hired.  He might have lived to be president.”             “You think he’ll die?” Angie asked, grabbing the guard on the elbow with a grip she thought would get his attention.             “Looked like it, him lying there on the floor, one eye closed and the other catawampus.”             “Tell me what you saw,” Angie said.  “I really missed the whole thing, stuck back in the crowd.”             Angie offered the man a ride back to the Ambassador to pick up his car. He might be a good witness. He was in his twenties, big, maybe 235 pounds.  Under the street lights she had decided he had a boxer’s beefy jaw and a face getting puffy from too much booze. Nose was a little crooked. It wasn’t clear exactly what he’d seen or his exact role in the shooting’s aftermath. He gave her some details of the scene in the pantry he cou