What Happened to the Bennetts(9)

Special Agent Kingston cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and Ethan, let me begin by saying we’re very sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you,” I said for us all. Ethan glued his gaze to the FBI agents, and I realized he had never seen a real one before, though I had, back when I took a job for the government, working on depositions at Guantánamo Bay. All of the federal agents I met were just like these two, steady and professional in demeanor.

“As I said, we’re sorry to disturb, but time is of the essence. We have been in contact with the Chester County detectives and the officers at the scene.”

“Okay,” I said, not sure where he was going. “So why is the FBI involved?”

“I’ll come back to that in a moment. First, we have identified your daughter’s murderer as one John Milo.”

My jaw clenched. Now I knew the name of the man who had ended my daughter’s life. It felt surreal, hearing it in a family room filled with Allison. Her most recent school photo dominated the mantel; we had sprung for the eight-by-ten. The coffee table was cluttered with bottles of Holo Taco nail polish, tubes of watermelon ChapStick, a black ponytail elastic, and a tub of peppermint Mentos gum, which she loved so much we called her gum pig. Her Adidas slides and a pair of worn red Toms were piled by the entertainment center. My daughter surrounded us, but was absent. It was a family room without the family.

“We have also identified his accomplice, the man killed at the scene. His name is George Veria, Jr. He goes by Junior.”

Ethan looked over. “Dad, you were right. Remember, you read his lips? You said his name was Junior.”

I had forgotten, my alleged superpower. I nodded at Ethan, but my thoughts flashed back to Coldstream Road. It struck me that Allison’s backpack, purse, and hockey stick were still in the car. Overnight, my daughter’s belongings had become her personal effects.

“Jason, we understand that Junior Veria was shot by John Milo, not by you.”

Even if I remained angry that anyone had questioned this, I was relieved to hear that the suspicion had ended. “Good.”

“Both men were members of the George Veria Organization, or GVO, a dangerous criminal network that distributes and sells OxyContin, fentanyl, and other opiates in central and southeastern Pennsylvania.”

“Oh no,” I said, aghast. Lucinda reached for my hand. Ethan hugged Moonie, a speck of dried blood on the dog’s front paw.

“First, let me give you some background. A carjacking usually occurs for one of three reasons. Number one, the car is stolen to flee the scene of a crime. Number two, the car is stolen because it’s a specific make, as part of an auto theft ring.” Special Agent Kingston counted off on slim, nimble fingers. “Number three, the victim is in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Lucinda interjected, “Was it because they wanted a Mercedes?”

“No. We have reason to believe that they needed your car to flee another crime. There was a double homicide last night, about an hour before your daughter’s. We believe it was committed by Milo and Junior. They needed to ditch their pickup, so they took your car.”

I tried to process the information. It was hard to think about what had happened before Allison was killed.

Dad, they have guns.

I asked, “Why take a car with a family in it? Isn’t that risky?”

“They had no choice. They take what comes.”

“Where was the double homicide? Who was killed?”

Special Agent Kingston paused. “Milo and Junior killed two men in Jennersville. Their names were Walter Jersey and Gary Reid. They were retail-level drug dealers in the same organization.”

“So they killed their own men? Why?” I flashed on Milo shooting Junior. “What is it with these guys? They turn on their own?”

“Infighting is not uncommon in a criminal organization. They jockey for power.”

“But why kill lower-level men? How does that help them move up?”

“We don’t know. There are a few likely scenarios.”

“Like what?”

Special Agent Kingston pursed his lips. “It’s possible that Milo falsely accuses the other two of skimming, then kills them to curry favor with the boss. The kingpin of the organization is Junior’s father, George Veria, Sr. They call him Big George. There’s nepotism even in crime families. Junior was being groomed for the top spot. So if Milo wanted the top spot, he’d have to kill Junior.”

It made a horrific sort of sense. “Do you think Milo planned to kill Junior at our carjacking?”

“No. We believe he exploited the opportunity presented by the dog attack.”

Ethan looked down at Moonie. I hugged my son closer.

“That brings me to why we’re here.” Special Agent Kingston leaned forward intently, his dark-eyed gaze bracketed by crow’s feet that looked earned. “Obviously, Milo can’t tell Big George that he himself killed Junior. We believe Milo will say you put up a fight, disarmed Junior, and shot him. In effect, Milo will frame you for Junior’s murder.”

Lucinda gasped. Ethan looked over. I felt my chest tighten. I hadn’t seen this coming, but it was a logical assumption. It was what the Chester County detectives had believed, too.

Special Agent Kingston frowned. “Big George was very close to his son. We believe the organization will target you and your family in retaliation. We believe you’re in danger, right now.”