Page 75 of Searching for Hope

Barrett clears his throat. “Remember we already checked Mr Keating out when—”

“I fucking remember, Barrett,” Jericho growls. “But the information we received from Gorman is more recent. Things could have changed. He’s probably been searching for her just like we have. It looks like he found her first.”

“I just don’t think it’s wise to go barging in there without—”

The car hasn’t even fully stopped when Jericho opens the door and leaps out of the car. He takes a few steps before whipping around to face Barrett and me.

“Stay,” he barks.

Of course, neither of us do. As soon as the car is parked, we clamber out, following Jericho to the front entrance of the house. There’s something familiar about it. Like I’ve been here before, but I can’t remember when. Or why. There’s a gate that leads into the property, an intercom off to one side, but Jericho merely threads his fingers through the wire of the gate and pulls himself over the top in one graceful movement.

“Fuck,” Barrett mutters, pulling a pair of leather gloves out of his pocket and shoving them on. “We can’t let him go in there alone.”

“Do you really think that she could be here?”

Barrett toys with the lock of the gate. “It’s unlikely. I’ve been keeping an eye on Mr Keating’s movements and he only just returned home. He’s been out of the country for months.”

Jericho has reached the front door and pounds on it with his fists.

“Keating!” he yells, stepping back to look up to the top level of the house. “Keating!” He paces back and forth. “Keating, you better fucking open the door right now before I—”

The door opens just as Barrett manages to spring the lock and we hurriedly race up the small path.

“Get off my property before I call the police.”

A person who I assume is Aaron Keating stands at the opening of the door, a rifle in his hand. He doesn’t point it, merely holds it, the strap slung over his shoulder.

“Where is she?” Jericho demands.

“Look, I don’t know who you are but I’m certain you don’t belong here so if I were you, I’d leave now before I call the police.”

“Call them,” Jericho taunts. “I’ll tell them to search the house for her.”

Aaron Keating’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening around the butt of the rifle. “Do I know you?”

“I think we all need to calm down,” Barrett says, attempting to step in between the two men, but Jericho sidesteps around him, encroaching on Keating. In one smooth motion, he rips the rifle away, tosses it to the floor and shoves Keating against the wall, fingers wrapped around his throat.

“Where is Hope?”

Keating’s eyes narrow further. He makes no attempt to fight Jericho off, no attempt to wiggle free. “Now I know who you are,” he hisses.

“Of course you fucking do,” Jericho snaps. “Now tell me where she is!”

“I have no clue, you unhinged piece of—” His voice is cut off by Jericho’s elbow slamming into his jaw. I wince at the force of it.

“Where is she?” Spit flies as he yells. “Where is she?” His elbow smacks against Keating’s jaw again and again.

He’s lost it. He’s out of control. Keating is on the floor now, Jericho holding his head off the ground by clutching his shirt in his fist. He yells incoherently, punching Keating time and time again until Barrett pulls him off, locking him in a bear hug. Jericho struggles, fighting against the restriction of Barrett’s arms, but Barrett holds him firm.

Keating drags himself up until he’s propped against the wall. “You’re going to pay for this.” He spits and a globule of red-stained saliva lands at Jericho’s feet. “I don’t have her,” he snarls. “I swear to God. I wish I did, but I don’t. That bitch ruined my life. She’s dead.”

“You’re lying!” Jericho hisses back, wrestling out of Barrett’s grip.

“Dad?” A shadowy figure appears down the darkened hallway.

I recognize the voice and my heart drops. Suddenly the similarities between Keating and a friend of mine become obvious. The smirk. The exaggerated expressions. The line of their jaws, the set of their noses, the shape of their brows.

Keating’s eyes dart down the hallway. “Go back to bed, Dominic. Everything’s fine.”

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