Ben, Not Bill

“When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

The doors opened to a dimly-lit hallway. A baby cried somewhere down the hall. In the other direction a stereo blared. To Sean’s surprise no one sat in the hall. He knocked on the third door from the elevator.

No answer.

Sean jiggled the knob, but the door remained locked. “No one’s home,” He looked at the threadbare, puke-green carpeting. “I wonder why.”

He jammed his card in to the door so it wouldn’t be missed and strode back to the elevator.

“Let’s go see Carolyn Holmes.”

“Yeah, the sketch artist should have been and gone by now.”

***

“Holy shit,” Jen said. She ignored Sean’s startled look in her direction as if he’d never heard a woman curse. Her hands shook rattling the paper. “Do you see what I see?”