about Home Sweet Home. I wanted HomeMaker to chip in some money for it. A charitable donation, to help those who had lost jobs.”
“And what did Karl say?”
“What do you think? That the company was having enough financial troubles on its own, which was why they’re leaving town in the first place. HomeMaker couldn’t afford to be sponsoring anything else.”
“Of course.” No charity for the people he was sending tumbling toward poverty. “Did he give Thomas money?”
Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. On the one hand I could see him doing it, since he’s an old family friend.” He spat the word. “But he could just as easily have told him to forget it, and take his lumps like a man.”
“It would’ve been a lot of money, right? Which Karl could probably afford.”
“I guess.”
“That still doesn’t answer why Todd was at his office that day. And why he was so angry. Todd said it was personal. There was no reason he would know anything about Thomas. Unless Karl told him.”
“On the other hand, maybe Karl gave Thomas some money and Todd was there to try to talk him out of it. He would know Karl’s money dealings better than anybody, although I’m not sure why it would’ve made him so mad. Unless Karl was using HomeMaker money.” He waved his script at her. “Either way, the visit to Karl’s office would have nothing to do with Ellen.”
“Except that she ate at Home Sweet Home.”
“What?”
“That’s what we were talking about. Your visit, and that Karl wouldn’t give you any money for your charity. And Ellen ate there.”
“Served there.”
“Okay.”
He sighed. “All right. She ate there, too. Along with her kids.”
Casey wanted to take his hand. To comfort him.
“Do it.”
She jerked away from him and glared at Death.
“Come on,” Death said. “Hold his hand. It would be so cute.”
Casey shoved her hands into her pockets.
“Aww,” Death said. “You are so boring. Oh!” Death glanced behind them and raised a fist. “Yes! Things are about to get a lot more interesting.” Death was gone.
Casey stopped, allowing Eric to get several steps ahead before he turned. “What is it?”
She held up a hand, watching under the streetlight they’d passed seconds before.
Two men came around the corner. Two men she’d seen before, talking to Thomas. Taffy and Bone.
They saw her. And they saw Eric.
Casey’s brain shifted gears. Her breathing deepened, and her muscles relaxed, even as her nerves tingled. She stepped in front of Eric. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
They stopped ten feet away. Taffy, as she’d noticed before, had a wrestler’s physique. Huge and thick under a loosely fitting jacket and black dress pants. He smiled. “I think you might just be able to, little lady.”
“And how would that be?”
He glanced at Bone, who hadn’t even a hint of a smile on his feral-looking face. “If you could just tell us who sent you to this tiny little town. The cops? Our…friends across town in Kentucky?”
“No one sent me. And I’ve never been to Kentucky.”
He continued smiling, nodding as if she’d said something clever. “That’s what Mr. Black told us you’d say.”
“Thomas?” Eric’s voice had gone tight, and high.
Casey waved at him to shut up, not turning from the men. “It’s the truth.”
“I see. I guess your definition of truth is different from ours.”
“I guess so.”
He was talkative. Very large, and very talkative. Casey figured he was already deciding how quickly he would take her down if she didn’t comply. His overconfidence was obvious in his swagger, and in the look in his eye.
Casey breathed in through her nose. To her left sat a car. A Pontiac, blocking the way. To her right sat a row of homes, a few large trees, windows with lights shining, TVs flickering. Behind her, Eric, who didn’t have a clue what was about to happen.
The man on the left, Bone, the one who had almost discovered her behind the theater’s curtains, he was the scary one. About a hundred pounds shy of his partner, his body was lean and wiry, his face all cheekbone and jaw. His eyes, expressionless above a nose that had been broken and badly reset, watched Casey, while the rest of him remained still. His arms hung loose at his sides, hands open, his feet spread shoulder-width. He had no jacket, and no gun that Casey could see. That didn’t mean he didn’t have something else.
“I’d like to talk with you a little longer,” Taffy said. “Just so’s we can get straight exactly what the truth is.”
“That would be good,” Casey said. “To get at the truth.”
Taffy stepped forward, his hand out, as if to shake.
“Eric,” Casey said under her breath. “Run away.”
“What?”
“Run!”
She would’ve run, too, and with the element of surprise could’ve outdistanced the two thugs in seconds, but she couldn’t leave Eric. Not with these two.
Casey slid her hand into Taffy’s, but instead of shaking it she torqued his thumb, jamming the pressure point, bringing him to his knees. As he dropped she jerked up her knee, crushing his nose. He fell forward, unconscious, and Casey grabbed the back of his shirt, and his chin, spinning him down and forward, between her and Bone.
Now Bone was smiling.
“You—” Eric said.
Casey turned and shoved him away. “Run!”
This time he listened.
Casey heard Bone coming, but didn’t have time to turn before his fist slammed into her kidney. She fell to the ground, gasping, clutching her side, and rolled to the left as his foot came down where her back had been.
She flipped to her feet, her brain fuzzy, vision blurred, back pulsing with pain.
A dog barked and Bone glanced to the side, waiting, but the dog went quiet. Bone turned back, and as Casey brought her hands up, he stepped in to hit her with a roundhouse punch. She jerked away so that he missed her jaw, but his fist caught her lip, smashing it against her teeth. She tasted blood.
He smiled again.
Casey sat back on her right leg and kicked his inner thigh. He stumbled to the left, and she turned to run. With a yell he lunged, grabbing her hair and jerking her backward. She reached up, trapping his hand with both of hers, and spun inside, double-twisting until his arm was behind him in a lock and his head was lowered. She rocked him forward, smashing his head against the Pontiac.
Spitting blood and faint from the kidney pain, Casey knew she couldn’t run away. At least not very far. She glanced into the Pontiac.
There were keys on the seat.
Dropping the man to the sidewalk, she stumbled around the back of the car and wrenched open the driver’s door, flinging herself inside. She grabbed the keys and poked one into the ignition. Not the right one. She pulled at the ring, but it was stuck.
The passenger door opened, and Bone lunged across the seat. She brought up her foot and kicked him in the face, his nose spraying blood as he shot backward.
“Come on, come on,” she pleaded, jiggling the keys.
Abandoning the keys, Casey scrambled to get out of the car, but Bone was up again, shaking his head, rounding the hood. He kicked the door, catching her right forearm and sending it back with a snap. She clutched the arm to her stomach as the door repelled against Bone. He kicked the door again, but she hopped backward, out of the way.
