Page 62 of Elusive Promise

A man sat behind a counter, tapping on a computer keyboard, while he spoke into the phone resting between his head and shoulder. He appeared to be in his forties and wore a T-shirt with an inspirational quote about finding salvation.

Jared waited until he finished with the call. Then he said, "I hope you can help me. I'm looking for my younger brother." He pulled out his phone. He'd been carrying around a photo of Ben for the past few weeks, and he showed it to the clerk. "His name is Ben, but I'm not sure what he's calling himself today. He's bipolar and suffers from depression. He asked me for help and told me to come down here. My family is really worried about him. I hope he's here."

The older man took a look at the picture. "Yeah, he's here. Came in this morning. Looked like he was coming off a big high, shaking and muttering to himself."

"He sometimes loses track of reality. He doesn't remember where he is or how he got there. Sometimes, he doesn't even remember my name. It breaks my heart."

"Yeah, I know how that goes. My dad is the same way. He's in the gym. I told him he could stay twenty-four hours, then we have to fill out paperwork. Empty your pockets before you walk through the metal detector."

He put his wallet and car keys in a small container and then walked through the detector. The man passed him his belongings, and he moved into the gym.

The large room was filled with cots placed about four feet apart. It was a sea of humanity and the stench was fairly overwhelming. There were probably thirty people in the room. He suspected all the beds would be full come nighttime.

Some of the men were sleeping, a couple of groups were playing cards on the floor between their cots, and a few were reading.

His gaze swept the room until he saw a solitary figure sitting cross-legged on a bed by the wall. He had earbuds on and was looking at his phone, as most kids his age did.

Ben had dark hair like his mother and wore jeans, and a hoodie sweatshirt with Everly stamped across it. Jared felt a wave of relief that Elizabeth had not warned Ben that they were coming.

Fortunately, there was no one particularly close to Ben, which would make conversation easier.

He sat down on the cot next to him and leaned forward. "Ben."

The kid's head jerked, and he pulled the headphones out of his ears, looking suddenly terrified.

"Don't move," he ordered, sensing that Ben was about to run. "Your mother sent me to get you."

"No, she didn't," Ben replied, but he looked a bit uncertain.

"She did. She said you need money and a place to stay. I'm going to provide both."

"Who are you?"

"That's not important. She also told me that you're involved in Jasmine's kidnapping."

Ben's eyes widened. "I can't believe she said that. She's lying. I didn't have anything to do with it. Jasmine was—is—my friend."

He wondered if the stumble meant Ben knew more than anyone else about Jasmine's current condition.

"Your mother is scared. You need to come with me."

Ben vehemently shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know who you are."

"My name is Jared. We're going to get up and walk out the door. And then we'll go next door and order you some food."

Ben looked confused by his words. "What?"

"An old friend of yours will meet us there. She also wants to help you. Her name is Parisa Maxwell. She was with your mom when your mother called you. So was I."

"Parisa won't help me. She'll hate me for what I did."

"Being involved in Jasmine's kidnapping is hateful behavior, but there is a way out for you, Ben. You can help us get Jasmine back. That will counter whatever you did." A hopeful gleam entered Ben's eyes, and Jared played off it. "You know Parisa is well connected. Her stepfather is friends with the president. She can use her power for your benefit, but you have to help us find Jasmine."

"I didn't know they were going to take Jasmine, I swear."

He wanted to ask who Ben was talking about—if Sara and Isaac were involved. He wanted to ask Ben where he was when the Paris bomb went off, when April died. The questions were right there on the tip of his tongue. But he'd made Parisa a promise—Jasmine first; everything else had to wait.

"Let's go," he said, getting to his feet.

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