Free WHERE'S MY SON? by John C. Dalglish Page B

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    “How about Benny Carter? Do you remember him? An ex-con who lived west of San Antonio. He seemed to remember you.”
    Stan pretended not to hear, but no w he knew which kid this man was after. He looked around, trying to find a means of escape, some way to turn the tables in his favor. He didn’t see one.
     
    *******
     
    Michael stared at the large, redheaded man. This was the face behind it all, the one ultimately responsible for what had happened to his son, and to the Barton’s lives.
    Michael wa s convinced that whoever had his son knew he didn’t belong to them. The darkness in him swore they would pay, too. But for that to happen, he needed information, and he needed it from the man in front of him. “Stand up.”
    Stan slowly got to his feet as Michael moved around behind him , putting the gun in the big man’s back, shoving him forward.
    Stan stumbled in the cuffs and almost fell. Fighting to regain his balance, he swung around to face Michael. “Whoever you are, you’re going to regret this!”
    Michael bore into the man with an icy stare. He picked up the pole to a pool skimmer, and without saying a word, jabbed it into Stan’s massive chest. Stan teetered backwards, getting ever closer to the edge of the pool.
    Michael ’s anger boiled over. “Where's my son?”
    “I’m not telling you nothin’!”
    Michael smirked. “Oh, you will, or you’ll learn to swim with those cuffs on.”
    All the blood drained out of Stan’s face and Michael thought the man might pass out.
    “I …I don’t remember...”
    “Really ? Your sister seemed to remember.” The look on the big man's face told Michael he’d struck home.
    P anic filled the man’s swollen red eyes. “When did you talk to her? Where is she? Is she okay?”
    Michael's smile was mocking. “Well, let’s see. I saw her yesterday…she’s at home…and whether she’s okay or not probably depends on your point of view.”
    “You…”
    Michael jabbed Stan hard, forcing him back, almost tipping him over the edge. “You better start talking right now, and don’t waste what breath you have left calling me names.”
    “ Okay…okay...Duncan...the last name was Duncan.”
    Michael pressed the pole into the man’s chest. “More, I need more!”
    “Come on man, it was ten years ago. I can’t remember everything.”
    Michael exploded.
    “You’re telling ME it’s been ten years? I’ve suffered every day of every week of every month of every year since that afternoon,” Michael increased the pressure of the pole against the big man. “Now, you tell me more.”
    “ Alright...he sold homes…Wade…Wade Duncan and his wife Katie, I think.”
    Michael pushed harder. “Where did they live?”
    Stan was at the edge of the pool now , and in full-blown hysteria. “Here in town…south side, I think. I’m not sure.”
    Michael relaxed slightly, his smile returning. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
    All at once, Michael lunged forward, shoving the pole hard into Stan’s chest, tipping the big man backwards. Stan clawed at the pole as he started to fall toward the water. Everything went into slow motion.
    As Stan began an inevitable descent into the pool, his eyes grew wide with terror. Michael leered at him, continuing to push with the pole until there was no stopping the big man’s momentum. Michael stepped closer to watch him fall into the water.
    The sound of a huge splash was followed by thrashing , as Stan tried to turn himself over, while he quickly sank. It was too deep for him to stand, so when he reached the bottom, he bent his knees, and thrust himself up. His head cleared the water long enough to get a breath. Again, he sunk quickly.
    He repeated the process a second time, just barely getting his face far enough above water to catch a breath. He thrashed wildly, trying to stay at the top, but his weight was his curse. He went down for the last time.
    Within a short time, all motion on the water ’s surface