in. She closed the door and led them into an old fashioned parlor with a sofa and side chairs covered with flowered slipcovers. The throw rug on the floor by the door was threadbare in spots, but the rest of the hardwood floor was covered with a faded faux Persian rug. The floorboards creaked as they entered the room. Pictures of brightly colored floral arrangements hung on all four walls. She gestured to the two chairs and sofa at the far end of the room. “Have a seat, please.”
They chose seats opposite each other so they could play off of each other as needed.
“Is Mister Bennett at home?” Mark asked.
“John’s at the library. He called on his cell phone about twenty minutes ago, so he should be here any minute. What’s this about?”
Wendy said, “If it’s all the same with you, Mrs. Bennett, we would prefer to wait until your husband gets here.”
“That’s not a problem. He’ll be right along. If there is one thing about John, he’s very punctual. He knows that I worry about him. Can’t help it, we’ve been married for over forty-seven years. Can I get you folks something to drink while we’re waiting?”
“Perhaps a glass of water,” Mark said.
“Make that water for me too,” Wendy piped in.
Mark was certain that Brice’s mother knew why they were there. Their presence at her door must have been reminiscent of that day a while back when two marines showed up to tell her that her son Peter died in the service of his country. He could already see the deep sorrow in her eyes. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key in the front door.
“Whose car is that by the curb, Mandy?” a voice came from that direction.”
“Please come into the parlor, John. We have guests.”
John was a tall burly man stooped by forty years of route service for the US Post Office; retired now for over three years.
“These are Special Agents Matthews and Farrell. They’re with the FBI.”
“I’m sure you won’t mind if I ask to see your ID’s, would you? You can’t be too careful these days.”
They showed him their shields and ID’s. He looked at them slowly. “Well they seem okay. Our son Brice works for you fellas and his badge and ID look like yours. Do you know my son? He works in downtown Cleveland.”
“Yes, Sir, we do,” Wendy said. “In fact, that’s why we’re here. There’s been an accident. I regret having to tell you that Brice died last Friday. We didn’t find out until earlier today.” She stopped to let it sink in, then added, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
John Bennett was visibly shaken by the news, but Mark could see that he was right about Amanda Bennett knowing the minute she opened the door that she had lost her second son. Her reaction now was correspondingly muted.
John asked, “How did it happen?”
Mark fielded that one. “It was an accident in an elevator at a warehouse where he was conducting an investigation. He was undercover at the time. He was there alone when it happened. That’s why he wasn’t found until early this morning.” He hesitated for a few seconds, and added, “He died in the line of duty, Sir. We will miss him.”
“Someone from the Bureau will be contacting you about the arrangements,” Wendy offered. There was an awkward pause, followed by, “We should probably leave now. I’m sure you both prefer to be alone at a time like this.”
“Yes, of course,” Amanda said. “It was very kind of you to come down here to tell us in person.”
John stood there expressionless for a few minutes. Then he blurted out, “That’s the second son we’ve lost, you know. It’s just not right. Why us? I spent three years in the service of my country. My son Peter died in Afghanistan. This is too much for one family to bear.”
Amanda turned to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please, John, let’s not burden these nice folks any more than we need to. They’re just doing their jobs.”
“Of course, you’re right, Mandy,”