Road to Heaven
Chapter Ten
When Joe awoke, he found himself in an upright position. his wrists were in shackles attached to the ceiling of another basement. 'This is getting ridiculous,' he thought as he looked down and saw his ankles, each attached to metal rings on the wall via more shackles. He groaned in self-disgust as he remembered how easily he had let his guard down and been captured.
He waited, silently, listening for a sound from his captors. Hearing nothing, he felt it safe to yell for help. He opened his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEELLLLP!!!"
The basement door opened and the three men eho had taken him prisoner came down the stairs at an unhurried pace. "Good morning," said the man from the car. "I'm afraid I gave you a little bit higher dose yesterday than I had intended. I was beginning to wonder if you would awaken at all."
"What do you want?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes flashing angrily.
"I want my money," Benton said, stepping in front of Joe and glaring at him. "You and Wallace took it from Testerman and I want it back."
"I don't know where it is," Joe told him truthfully. "Why don't you ask your buddies?" Joe sneered. "They killed Kenny. They probably took your money and hid it."
Benton backhanded Joe across the face. "I saw you get into the van with Wallace," he said, his voice even. "You and he hid it somewhere. Where is it?"
"I told you, I don't know," Joe repeated.
An evil glint came into Benton's eyes as he looked at Joe. "I can see we're going to have to do this the hard way," he said, removing his belt and handing it to the lond bearded man. "Kurt, position please," he requested.
Kurt took the belt and walked behind Joe. "I'm going to ask you a question," Benton said. "If you don't give me the correct answer, Kurt will let you know."
"I don't know anything," Joe told him again, trying desperately to get the man to believe him.
"I don't believe I asked the first question, but," he paused, giving Joe a nasty grin, "wrong answer." The belt came down with force across Joe's back. He let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Almost immediately there was an explosion from outside.
Kurt and the other man ran up the stairs and outside to see what was going on. Benton stayed in the basement with Joe. "A slight reprieve," he said in disdain, bending down and picking up the belt Kurt had dropped. "Perhaps a bit harder?" he asked, holding the belt so the buckle hung limp at the bottom. He moved behind Joe. "Where is it?" he asked again.
"I don't know," Joe replied, reading himself for the pain. Benton brought his arm back and then threw it forward with force. Joe screamed as the buckle made an imprint through his shirt.
"Where is it?" Benton demanded again.
"Put it down and move away," came a voice from the stairs. Joe's heart leapt with joy as he recognized the voice. He looked over at the stairs and saw his brother coming down them, a revolver in his hand.
"You won't shoot me," Benton smirked, looking at Frank. "I'm not armed."
"Hit my brother again and you'll see," Frank replied, his voice even, his brown eyes, hard as steel. "Release him."
"You won't leave here alive," Benton snarled, taking a key and stooping by Joe's ankle. "Neither of you."
"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it," Frank told him coldly. "Hurry," he snapped. Benton finished unlocking the shackles which held Joe. Joe fell to the floor on his knees. "Are you going to be okay?" Frank asked in concern.
Joe nodded and slowly got up, wincing in pain everytime he felt the fabric from his shirt touch the welts on his back. "Your turn," Joe told his former captor. He put the shackles on Benton and laid the key in the floor. He then took a bandana Frank handed him and gagged him.
"Let's get out of here," Frank said, lowering the gun and going over to Joe. "The deversion I created outside won't keep those two busy forever."
Frank and Joe made their way up the stairs and out of the basement. As they left the house Joe saw the diversion Frank had created. He had set the Toyota's engine on fire and Kurt and Andrews, Joe had recoginzed from his mug shot, almost had it under control.
Joe grinned approvingly at Frank as they made their way to the motorcycle. Frank stopped to remove the bullets from the gun before placing it in a comaprtment under the seat.
"Where did you get the gun?" Joe inquired.
"It was on the kitchen table with a couple of others," Frank replied grimly. "I'll drop this one off at the police station after I get you home." He climbed on his motorcycle and Joe got on behnd him, gritting his teeth. As tender as his back was, this was going to hurt.
When they arrived home, Frank helped Joe inside. Laura was awake and came running into the foyer when she heard them enter. "Joe!" she screamed, seeing the pale look on his face and Frank supporting him. "What happened?"
"I'm okay," Joe quickly assured her with a wan smile. "Just very, very sore."
"Benton beat him with a belt buckle," Frank explained tersely.
Laura's eyes widened in horror as she reached out to give her youngest son a gentle hug. "Upstairs and in bed," she ordered. "I'll get some linament."
"Oh Mom," Joe protested. "That stuff stinks."
"No buts, young man," she stated firmly, her hands placed on her hips as she glared at him, her lips set in a hard line.
Frank grinned. He couldn't help it. Joe weighed twice as much as their mother and was a full five inches taller but Joe swallowed his protest and meekly allowed Frank to help him up the stairs.
Frank filled Joe in on their father's part in the case then he explained why he had been at Crawford Lane. "What did they want?" Frank asked.
"They never found the money Kenny took," Joe replied as Frank helped him off with his shirt. "They thought I had it because they saw Kenny and me get into the van together after Testerman was shot."
"Wait a minute," Frank said as something occurred to him. "It sounds like Testerman stole the money from Benton."
"Yeah, so?" Joe demanded.
"So, how would Benton know to be following Testerman? If he had seen him take the money, it looks like he would have killed Testerman on the spot."
"So Benton had to have some business in town," Joe said, catching on. "With someone on Baker's Street," he added, naming the street he and Kenny had exited the alley on. "Let's check it out."
"Not today," Frank said, then told him what their dad had said about staying around the house.
Joe opened his mouth to argue but clamped it shut when his mother walked into the room. While Laura doctored Joe's back, Frank went downstairs and fixed breakfast. He brought Joe up a tray with toast, juice and cereal. After Joe had finished, his mother insisted he take a nap. "You too, Frank," she ordered.
"I've got to run to the police station first," he said, following her downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Why?" asked Fenton, standing in the kitchen and looking up as they entered. He had heard them talking as they neared.
Frank told his father about his stakeout, Joe's capture and his rescue. He ended with the information about the revolver. "Go ahead and get some sleep," Fenton ordered Frank when he had finished. "You and Joe have work to do tonight," he added mysteriously. "I'll take the revolver to the station."
"What kind of work?" Frank asked, sitting down at the table and pouring some flakes into a bowl.
"I'll fill you in this afternoon," Fenton promised. "I';ve got to make sure everything's set-up and then I'll tell you boys everything. In the meantime," he continued, "get some rest and stay close to the house until I return."
With these words, Fenton kissed his wife goodbye and left. "One of these days, I'm going to break both of his legs so he'll have to stay home for a while," Laura said in exasperation as she watched him leave. Frank grinned and ate his cereal, wisely saying nothing.
It was late afternoon when Frank awoke. He got out of bed and stretched then walked over to lift the shade from his window. He could see Joe and Roger Greer, their next door neighbor, shooting hoops. He went to take a shower. When he had finished and dressed, he headed sownstairs and met Joe who had just come in, gleaming with sweat.
"That thunderstorm this morning didn't help the humidity any," Joe informed his brother. "Dad called," he added, heading upstairs. "He said to stay home and he's be in for dinner and let us in on what was going down tonight." With that said, Joe took the rest of the steps two at a time and disappeared from view.
Frank went into the living room and turned on the news. By the time Joe came back down, the weatherman was forcasting a severe storm watch for the night, complete with heavy rain and high winds.
"He's nuts!" Joe proclaimed, picking up the remote and turning the television off. "It's hot and beautiful, and did I say hot?" he asked witht he lift of an eyebrow.
Frank smiled and shook his head . "There's a hurricane off the coast," he told Joe. "Haven't you been watching the news the past few days?"
"Nah," Joe said with a shake of his head. "It's too nice outside to deal with depressing stuff."
"What about Kenny?" Frank inquired.
"Doesn't count," Joe said, shaking a finger at Frank. "you know we know more than the cops about this case and the cops know more than the media." He looked at his watch. "Dinner isn't for another two hours," Joe said. "Let's head to the arcade."
"Dad said to stay put," Frank reminded his brother.
"We'll be back in time," Joe coaxed.
"No, we're staying here and that's final," he insisted. "How about a game of Monopoly?" he suggested, seeing Joe's mutinous expression.
"No," Joe replied, mimicing Frank's tone. "I'm going to the arcade. I'll be back in one and a half hours, tops," he promised as he turned to leave.
"Mom!" Frank shouted. He knew their mother could make him stay.
Joe sniggered. "She went to see Sarah Davis," he told Frank. "She'll be back in time for dinner. She's bringing take-out." he added, leaving.
Frank leaned back on the sofa in disgust. He didn't care what his dad said. He had never been as annoying as Joe had become.
Joe returned home in less than an hour. He had decided to check out the residents of Baker's Street, but one of the residents had seen him first. Coming up behind Joe, the man slipped a gun into the small of his back. "Be a good boy and you might live to see the sunset," came a whisper in his ear.
Joe was ordered into a green Subaru and told to drive. The thug, a short, thick set man with blue eyes and black hair whom Joe recogonized immediately from one of the mugh shots Con had shown him as Delvin Matthews, gave Joe directions which led to his own house.
He ordered Joe out of the car and into the kitchen. "Joe, is that you?" Frank asked, hearing the door and coming into the kitchen. Frank stopped in the doorway as he saw Matthews standing behind Joe.
"Now that the gang's all here," Matthews said, "let's get down to business. You," he said, looking into Frank's eyes, "go get the money your brother and Kenny took from Testerman." Frank opened his mouth to argue but Matthews took a hold of Joe's shoulder and held him tight, raising the gun to the base of Joe's head. "Now or he dies."
"We don't have the money," Joe told the man, swallowing nervously.
Matthews squeezed Joe's shoulder hard, making him wince in pain. "I won't say it again," he ordered Frank.
Chapter Ten
When Joe awoke, he found himself in an upright position. his wrists were in shackles attached to the ceiling of another basement. 'This is getting ridiculous,' he thought as he looked down and saw his ankles, each attached to metal rings on the wall via more shackles. He groaned in self-disgust as he remembered how easily he had let his guard down and been captured.
He waited, silently, listening for a sound from his captors. Hearing nothing, he felt it safe to yell for help. He opened his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEELLLLP!!!"
The basement door opened and the three men eho had taken him prisoner came down the stairs at an unhurried pace. "Good morning," said the man from the car. "I'm afraid I gave you a little bit higher dose yesterday than I had intended. I was beginning to wonder if you would awaken at all."
"What do you want?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes flashing angrily.
"I want my money," Benton said, stepping in front of Joe and glaring at him. "You and Wallace took it from Testerman and I want it back."
"I don't know where it is," Joe told him truthfully. "Why don't you ask your buddies?" Joe sneered. "They killed Kenny. They probably took your money and hid it."
Benton backhanded Joe across the face. "I saw you get into the van with Wallace," he said, his voice even. "You and he hid it somewhere. Where is it?"
"I told you, I don't know," Joe repeated.
An evil glint came into Benton's eyes as he looked at Joe. "I can see we're going to have to do this the hard way," he said, removing his belt and handing it to the lond bearded man. "Kurt, position please," he requested.
Kurt took the belt and walked behind Joe. "I'm going to ask you a question," Benton said. "If you don't give me the correct answer, Kurt will let you know."
"I don't know anything," Joe told him again, trying desperately to get the man to believe him.
"I don't believe I asked the first question, but," he paused, giving Joe a nasty grin, "wrong answer." The belt came down with force across Joe's back. He let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Almost immediately there was an explosion from outside.
Kurt and the other man ran up the stairs and outside to see what was going on. Benton stayed in the basement with Joe. "A slight reprieve," he said in disdain, bending down and picking up the belt Kurt had dropped. "Perhaps a bit harder?" he asked, holding the belt so the buckle hung limp at the bottom. He moved behind Joe. "Where is it?" he asked again.
"I don't know," Joe replied, reading himself for the pain. Benton brought his arm back and then threw it forward with force. Joe screamed as the buckle made an imprint through his shirt.
"Where is it?" Benton demanded again.
"Put it down and move away," came a voice from the stairs. Joe's heart leapt with joy as he recognized the voice. He looked over at the stairs and saw his brother coming down them, a revolver in his hand.
"You won't shoot me," Benton smirked, looking at Frank. "I'm not armed."
"Hit my brother again and you'll see," Frank replied, his voice even, his brown eyes, hard as steel. "Release him."
"You won't leave here alive," Benton snarled, taking a key and stooping by Joe's ankle. "Neither of you."
"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it," Frank told him coldly. "Hurry," he snapped. Benton finished unlocking the shackles which held Joe. Joe fell to the floor on his knees. "Are you going to be okay?" Frank asked in concern.
Joe nodded and slowly got up, wincing in pain everytime he felt the fabric from his shirt touch the welts on his back. "Your turn," Joe told his former captor. He put the shackles on Benton and laid the key in the floor. He then took a bandana Frank handed him and gagged him.
"Let's get out of here," Frank said, lowering the gun and going over to Joe. "The deversion I created outside won't keep those two busy forever."
Frank and Joe made their way up the stairs and out of the basement. As they left the house Joe saw the diversion Frank had created. He had set the Toyota's engine on fire and Kurt and Andrews, Joe had recoginzed from his mug shot, almost had it under control.
Joe grinned approvingly at Frank as they made their way to the motorcycle. Frank stopped to remove the bullets from the gun before placing it in a comaprtment under the seat.
"Where did you get the gun?" Joe inquired.
"It was on the kitchen table with a couple of others," Frank replied grimly. "I'll drop this one off at the police station after I get you home." He climbed on his motorcycle and Joe got on behnd him, gritting his teeth. As tender as his back was, this was going to hurt.
When they arrived home, Frank helped Joe inside. Laura was awake and came running into the foyer when she heard them enter. "Joe!" she screamed, seeing the pale look on his face and Frank supporting him. "What happened?"
"I'm okay," Joe quickly assured her with a wan smile. "Just very, very sore."
"Benton beat him with a belt buckle," Frank explained tersely.
Laura's eyes widened in horror as she reached out to give her youngest son a gentle hug. "Upstairs and in bed," she ordered. "I'll get some linament."
"Oh Mom," Joe protested. "That stuff stinks."
"No buts, young man," she stated firmly, her hands placed on her hips as she glared at him, her lips set in a hard line.
Frank grinned. He couldn't help it. Joe weighed twice as much as their mother and was a full five inches taller but Joe swallowed his protest and meekly allowed Frank to help him up the stairs.
Frank filled Joe in on their father's part in the case then he explained why he had been at Crawford Lane. "What did they want?" Frank asked.
"They never found the money Kenny took," Joe replied as Frank helped him off with his shirt. "They thought I had it because they saw Kenny and me get into the van together after Testerman was shot."
"Wait a minute," Frank said as something occurred to him. "It sounds like Testerman stole the money from Benton."
"Yeah, so?" Joe demanded.
"So, how would Benton know to be following Testerman? If he had seen him take the money, it looks like he would have killed Testerman on the spot."
"So Benton had to have some business in town," Joe said, catching on. "With someone on Baker's Street," he added, naming the street he and Kenny had exited the alley on. "Let's check it out."
"Not today," Frank said, then told him what their dad had said about staying around the house.
Joe opened his mouth to argue but clamped it shut when his mother walked into the room. While Laura doctored Joe's back, Frank went downstairs and fixed breakfast. He brought Joe up a tray with toast, juice and cereal. After Joe had finished, his mother insisted he take a nap. "You too, Frank," she ordered.
"I've got to run to the police station first," he said, following her downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Why?" asked Fenton, standing in the kitchen and looking up as they entered. He had heard them talking as they neared.
Frank told his father about his stakeout, Joe's capture and his rescue. He ended with the information about the revolver. "Go ahead and get some sleep," Fenton ordered Frank when he had finished. "You and Joe have work to do tonight," he added mysteriously. "I'll take the revolver to the station."
"What kind of work?" Frank asked, sitting down at the table and pouring some flakes into a bowl.
"I'll fill you in this afternoon," Fenton promised. "I';ve got to make sure everything's set-up and then I'll tell you boys everything. In the meantime," he continued, "get some rest and stay close to the house until I return."
With these words, Fenton kissed his wife goodbye and left. "One of these days, I'm going to break both of his legs so he'll have to stay home for a while," Laura said in exasperation as she watched him leave. Frank grinned and ate his cereal, wisely saying nothing.
It was late afternoon when Frank awoke. He got out of bed and stretched then walked over to lift the shade from his window. He could see Joe and Roger Greer, their next door neighbor, shooting hoops. He went to take a shower. When he had finished and dressed, he headed sownstairs and met Joe who had just come in, gleaming with sweat.
"That thunderstorm this morning didn't help the humidity any," Joe informed his brother. "Dad called," he added, heading upstairs. "He said to stay home and he's be in for dinner and let us in on what was going down tonight." With that said, Joe took the rest of the steps two at a time and disappeared from view.
Frank went into the living room and turned on the news. By the time Joe came back down, the weatherman was forcasting a severe storm watch for the night, complete with heavy rain and high winds.
"He's nuts!" Joe proclaimed, picking up the remote and turning the television off. "It's hot and beautiful, and did I say hot?" he asked witht he lift of an eyebrow.
Frank smiled and shook his head . "There's a hurricane off the coast," he told Joe. "Haven't you been watching the news the past few days?"
"Nah," Joe said with a shake of his head. "It's too nice outside to deal with depressing stuff."
"What about Kenny?" Frank inquired.
"Doesn't count," Joe said, shaking a finger at Frank. "you know we know more than the cops about this case and the cops know more than the media." He looked at his watch. "Dinner isn't for another two hours," Joe said. "Let's head to the arcade."
"Dad said to stay put," Frank reminded his brother.
"We'll be back in time," Joe coaxed.
"No, we're staying here and that's final," he insisted. "How about a game of Monopoly?" he suggested, seeing Joe's mutinous expression.
"No," Joe replied, mimicing Frank's tone. "I'm going to the arcade. I'll be back in one and a half hours, tops," he promised as he turned to leave.
"Mom!" Frank shouted. He knew their mother could make him stay.
Joe sniggered. "She went to see Sarah Davis," he told Frank. "She'll be back in time for dinner. She's bringing take-out." he added, leaving.
Frank leaned back on the sofa in disgust. He didn't care what his dad said. He had never been as annoying as Joe had become.
Joe returned home in less than an hour. He had decided to check out the residents of Baker's Street, but one of the residents had seen him first. Coming up behind Joe, the man slipped a gun into the small of his back. "Be a good boy and you might live to see the sunset," came a whisper in his ear.
Joe was ordered into a green Subaru and told to drive. The thug, a short, thick set man with blue eyes and black hair whom Joe recogonized immediately from one of the mugh shots Con had shown him as Delvin Matthews, gave Joe directions which led to his own house.
He ordered Joe out of the car and into the kitchen. "Joe, is that you?" Frank asked, hearing the door and coming into the kitchen. Frank stopped in the doorway as he saw Matthews standing behind Joe.
"Now that the gang's all here," Matthews said, "let's get down to business. You," he said, looking into Frank's eyes, "go get the money your brother and Kenny took from Testerman." Frank opened his mouth to argue but Matthews took a hold of Joe's shoulder and held him tight, raising the gun to the base of Joe's head. "Now or he dies."
"We don't have the money," Joe told the man, swallowing nervously.
Matthews squeezed Joe's shoulder hard, making him wince in pain. "I won't say it again," he ordered Frank.