Someone Else

Chapter 34 (Ben)

"Where is he?" Key whispered menacingly to Revere, his head on a swivel, expecting a sneak attack to come barreling down the stairs.

Ben stood by the door listening for movement in the house—a quiet escape out a back window or a creak from someone hiding in the crawl space—but he could only hear the faint crying of a child drifting through the walls and empty spaces.

"What...who?" Revere responded, blindsided by the assault that had now spilled in his home.

"Your brother." Key snarled, while pressing the tip of his gun deeper into Revere's forehead.

"Jeff? He's...aaah...he's not here." Revere fought to keep his voice quiet, his eyes darting back to the stairway every few seconds.

"Then why's his girlfriend's car out front?"

Revere closed his eyes and muttered a quick prayer. When he opened them, he had calmed down considerably. "I don't know what Jeff got himself messed up in, but he's not here. He did stop by a half hour ago to borrow my car, but he's gone now."

Key remained suspicious. He raised the gun into the air to crack it down on Revere's head. A show of force always expedited the truth. Ben quickly chimed in to stop the blow. "So, where'd he go?"

Revere's gaze broke from Key's harsh squint to find Ben. "You look just like him."

"So I've heard," Ben replied, becoming more irritated with the comparison each time he heard it. "Where'd your brother run off to?"

Talking with a familiar face appeared to relax Revere."I wish I knew, but he wouldn't tell me."

"If you're lying, this will go very badly for you."

"I'm telling you. He's not here!" Revere said, his voice rising before he caught himself and lowered the volume to a whisper. "Check the garage. My minivan's gone." He began to point, but Key clicked his tongue in a manner that caused Jeff's brother to freeze.

The cries of the child intensified, reminding everyone the stakes of this nighttime rendezvous. "Look. We know you have nothing to do with this," Ben spoke in a hushed voice, "but your brother stole a lot of money from us and we need your help to find him."

As he finished speaking, he heard footsteps padding down the hallway at the top of the stairs. Revere heard them, too, because he turned sharply toward the stairway with a panicked expression.

"Who that?" The enforcer whispered, amplifying the pressure of the gun to Revere's head.

"It's my wife," Revere stuttered. "Going to comfort our little girl."

"Go check it out," Key ordered Ben.

"No!" Revere hissed. "She doesn't know anything!"

Ben stalled. He had no desire to round up some lady and her kids.

"Jeff and a woman came here and borrowed our minivan—it's a blue Toyota Sienna," Revere blurted out. "He didn't tell me where he was going...but he...he gave me some cash—about nine hundred bucks!" He spoke with excitement, as though he had found an answer that would please the intruders. "I can go get it for you."

Key ignored the offer and turned to Ben. "I said, go see who's upstairs."

"No!" Revere said desperately. "Have you checked Jeff's house? He lives up in Park City on Rangel Road. It's easy to find. It's a dead end street and he lives in the last house on the left." He yammered on without shame, hoping to find something that would make them go away.

Ben knew it would be suicide to go back to Park City to hunt for Jeff. The old man at 7-11 would be discovered by now and cops will be crawling all over town. It wouldn't take long for the police to link the murder at the convenience store to the disturbance at his house, especially when two black men were involved. Every black guy in Utah—all seven of them—would be a suspect.