Chapter Eighteen
Everett
After a quick tri
p to the hospital to check on Jane, I returned to meet Ben again.
"Is everything sorted out?" Ben asked as I hung up the call with Vivienne since I missed her at the hospital.
"Yeah. Come on, let's get over to the Stevens' place and see what we can find out."
"Yeah. I hope this kid is gonna cough up the info we need," Ben expressed with a frown as he started to drive. "He's a bad egg, this one. This is his last chance, actually – we'll expel him for this. It should have been done a long time ago, actually. He's a real delinquent. Got a list of offenses about a mile long, starting all the way from when he was in third grade."
"Sounds like a real piece of work."
"He is. And his parents, they aren't exactly model citizens either, to be honest."
"So you don't think they're going to be very helpful, huh?"
"It's not likely, Ev, not likely at all. But like I said, his place is closer, so we may as well give it a shot, even though I'm not clinging to any kinda hope that they'll help."
"We'll see, Ben, we'll see."
Ten minutes later, we pulled up outside the Stevens’ residence. It was in a fairly rough neighborhood, and the house itself looked pretty shabby. A rusty car without wheels was propped up on bricks in the driveway, and various broken items were strewn across the lawn, with the only neat object in the place being a Harley Davidson bike parked in the garage, and even that had plenty of rust and dents on it. We got out of the car and walked up to the house. The paint was peeling, and the door was cracked and grubby, and dozens of beer cans littered the porch, along with several ashtrays full of cigarette butts.
"I see what you mean about the kid's parents," I muttered.
"Yeah. The apple has not fallen far from the tree," replied Ben. "Well, come on, let's do this."
I knocked on the door, and we stood waiting for someone to answer. There was no reply, so after a couple of seconds, I knocked again, a little louder this time.
"Hold your damn horses!" a gruff voice shouted from inside. "I'm coming, damn it!"
After a few moments, someone flung open the door, and a tall, heavyset man stood glaring at us, holding a beer can in his hand. His dark hair was long and greasy, and his thick, flabby arms were covered with tattoos. He wore the leather vest and leather pants of a biker and sported a thick beard.
"Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want?" he growled.
"I'm sure you recognize me, Mr. Stevens," Ben said. "You've been to my office enough times."
"Oh yeah, you're that teacher guy at Will's school. And what about this jock next to you?"
"This 'jock' is the new principal at JFK High," Ben informed.
"Hi, Mr. Stevens; I'm Everett James," I said, extending a hand to him.
He stared at my hand for a while but refused to shake it, so I lowered it, anger rising in me at this man's rude reaction. Still, I knew that I had to be professional, so I did my best to remain civil.
"We need to ask you about your son," said Ben.
"Uh, yeah, why the hell else would you be here? Well go on, spit it out; I don't have all day. What's that stupid little turd done now?"
"He was involved in a shooting that happened on the school premises," I added.
That seemed to shock some life into the bovine-like ogre, and his eyes widened with surprise. His attitude remained defiant, though.
"What?! You're sayin' my boy shot someone?! Like hell he did! I know he does some stupid things sometimes, but he ain't no killer!"
"No, no, he didn't shoot anyone. But he was buying drugs from the shooter, and we need to talk to him to find out who this person is."