Someone had destroyed his home. The TV lay on its back, the screen shattered, a faint whiff of burnt electronics in the air. Theo’s piles of books had been dismantled; books lay everywhere, some of them with pages ripped out, many with spines cracked and bindings torn. Wads of batting spilled out of the couch where someone had slashed the cushions. Lana’s toy train had been smashed. The red light flashed weakly in the plastic wreckage.
He moved slowly into the kitchen, trying not to rely on the cane too much, trying to keep his steps quiet. The damage was bad here too: the back door was open, and the table Ian had refinished lay at an angle, two of the legs having been kicked off. One of the chairs formed a broken heap at the base of the wall. Another was on its side. He could see two more out on the back lawn, where someone must have pitched them off the deck. The faucet had been broken, and water fountained up; the only good luck Theo could see was that the water was falling into the sink and going down the drain.
A step behind him made him turn, and he saw the big guy with the shaved head and the Celtic cross on his arm. He had a splint across his nose, two black eyes, and a look like he planned on returning the favor. Theo slid into the kitchen and heard movement on the deck. When he glanced over, he saw the blond girl with the swastika on her cheek. She was wearing an eyepatch today, and she had her arm in a sling, with several fingers splinted. In her off hand, she carried another pistol.
“Jerome, right?” Theo said to the big guy. To the girl he said, “And who are you?”
“Sit the fuck down,” Jerome said.
“You broke all my chairs,” Theo said, running his thumb along the edge of a key, the metal greasy under his touch. He resisted the urge to look upstairs at the bedroom, where he’d stashed the gun he’d taken from the blond girl the last time they’d run into each other. “And if you come any closer, I’m going to gut you, you big dumb shit. Understand?”
“And Mae will shoot your brains out.”
“Mae better not take one more fucking step inside my house,” Theo said, glancing at the blond woman. “Or I’ll take out her other eye. What are you two dumbasses doing here?”
“Where’s Robert?” the woman—Mae—asked.
“Come a little closer,” Theo said. “I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
“Mae’ll shoot you,” Jerome said, but he’d stopped in the middle of the front room. “She’ll shoot your fucking face off.”
“She’ll have to hit me first,” Theo said. “Did you two rehearse your Three Stooges routine? Last time was pretty good. I liked the part where she got stuck in the door. Classic Curly.”
“Put the cane down, faggot,” Mae said. “And drop the keys. I don’t have to be a good shot to hit you from right here.”
“Who’s Robert?”
“He’s—” Jerome began.
“Shut up, Jerome,” Mae shouted. “Jesus Christ.”
“See, I figure this is drugs,” Theo said. “You two look like you’ve had your brains fried at some point, and you’re clearly of the homophobic, racist, white nationalist shit-eating breed. So I figure this is drugs, and it has to do with the Ozark Volunteers. What I want to know is who’s Robert. Why are you looking for him? Why the fuck are you bothering me?”
“Last time I’m going to ask you,” Mae said. “Put the cane down. Drop the keys. We’re going to have a nice, long talk.”
Eyeing the distance between himself and Jerome, Theo judged his odds. Getting away from the gun was his best chance, but fighting Jerome wasn’t going to be easy. Theo had had the advantage of surprise last time, and the guy looked like he could take a punch. Theo drew in a few deep breaths, preparing to launch himself into the front room.
Sirens blatted. Jerome shot a look over his shoulder, called, “Cop,” to Mae, and then swung his gaze between Theo and Mae.
“Come on, dumbass,” Mae said, disappearing outside.
Jerome sprinted past Theo, and a moment later, both of them had disappeared into the tree line.
“Theo?” Cart called from the front door. “Holy fuck. What happened? Theo? Are you ok? Theo?”
“Yeah.” Theo limped into the opening to the front room. “Hey, Cart. I’m fine.”
“Shit, man.” Cart rubbed his buzzed head. He was in uniform, and behind him, the patrol car’s lights spun while the siren wailed. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t know. I got home and found the place like this.”
“Did you call the cops?”
“No. I just got back.”
“Jesus, I could tell something was wrong, which is why I ran the siren. But this is insane.” Cart fixed a look on Theo. “I thought I saw somebody in here.”
Theo thought of what Auggie had told him: He said if I went to the police, he’d kill me. Then he shrugged. “Just me.”
A long moment passed before Cart said, “Did you check upstairs?”
“Not yet.”
“Come on. Get out of the house.”
So Theo followed Cart outside, and at the cruiser, Cart called in his location and then turned off the lights and siren. Drawing his service weapon, he waved Theo back toward the street and went into the house again. He was gone for maybe five minutes. Theo stood in the September sun; the heat had broken, and the day was cool and crisp and clear. The Rudock kids had gathered on the other side of the street to watch the action.
When Cart returned, he was holstering his gun. “House is clear. I checked upstairs and the basement. Back door is ok, but you’re going to have to get somebody out here to fix the front door.”
“Fuck,” Theo said.
“Let’s take a look and see what’s missing.”
The problem, of course, was that nothing was missing. Theo took advantage of the search to make sure the pistol he’d taken from Mae on their first
