John Brown’s Body

The boys looked at the map and argued between themselves a couple of minutes. Terry fidgeted and Blackbeard sat motionless, fingers pressed together on the table, eyes on the boys as they talked.

They turned the map around. “This block, here.” The older one pointed. “The one with the bright red shutters.”

It was dark when Blackbeard and Terry got to the neighborhood, cruising slowly with the windows down to catch the cool Florida night air.

“That’s got to be it,” said Terry.

Blackbeard pulled the car to a stop in front of the townhouse with the red shutters.

“So now we just go in, ask them if they killed anybody lately?” said Terry, checking his gun.





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