The Way Home by Shannon Flagg Page A

they were trying to keep this all as civil as possible. Or at least they had been, Deacon's patience seemed to be running out and Houdini couldn't blame him.
    “I'm going to ask you one more time for the name of your partner.” Deacon leaned down so he was face to face with Ethan. “Answer me.” He stepped back. Ethan said nothing, his lips pressed firmly together. “This asshole really isn't going to talk,” Deacon turned to Houdini. “Fuck this, go and get his wife. Get Kim. We'll see what she has to say.”
    “Leave her out of this!” Ethan cried out.
    “Talk.” Deacon countered. The man fell silent again. “That's what I thought, go and get her, Houdini.”
    “On it, Pres.” Houdini got to his feet, gave Ethan Clark a pitying look. He wasn't looking forward to grabbing Kim Clark, but it was going to be easy enough. She worked from home, some sort of web-based thing. He slid his phone from his pocket, dialed Susan's number and listened to it ring straight to voice mail. “Hey, it's me. We're going to be a while. Do me a favor and stick close to the warehouse, would you? I've got a fucked up feeling. I love you.”
    Rita Clark answered the door when he rang the bell, smiled at him. “Hi, can I help you?” She was a pretty woman with light brown hair. She always seemed to be smiling. “Oh, Houdini? Right?”
    “Right,” he replied. “Ethan told me to meet him here. I think he must have got stuck in traffic.”
    “Only he could get stuck in traffic in Center City. Some things never change. Come on in, Houdini. Make yourself comfortable, can I get you a drink or something?”
    “No, I'm good. Thanks.” He stepped inside.
    “Don't be silly, it's no trouble and I just made a pot of coffee. I need another cup anyway. It looked like it was going to rain earlier, I'm glad it hasn't with all of the rebuilding.”
    Houdini took stock of the house as he followed Rita into the kitchen where she headed to the counter. He knew something was off, the way that her hand trembled when she reached into a drawer. He'd expected a knife; the gun was a little more of a surprise, but nothing he couldn't handle. Houdini stepped forward before she could pull the trigger, knocked her hand back, and the round went into the ceiling.
    “What the fuck was that?” He demanded.
    “Ethan would never tell you to come here, ever.” She struggled against the hold he had on her. “What the fuck do you want?”
    “Answers. Your husband doesn't want to give them, so you're going to.” He hit her wrist into the cabinet hard enough to make her release the gun. “Got to work on your speed, Sweetheart. Now, are you going to come with me the easy way or the hard way?”
    “What do you think?”
    Houdini thought that she was going to choose to be a pain in his ass. He was starting to wish he'd stopped by the warehouse, picked up some of the shots Susan said would put down a raging bull. “What if I ask you nicely to just come with me? That make a difference?” He doubted it would; that doubt confirmed when she spit in his face. With some regret, he brought his head forward, knocking her loopy with the impact.
    It was easy enough then to spin her around, bind her hands with zip ties. He took a dish towel off of the counter, used that as a gag. He left her feet undone; there wasn't going to be much room for her to move around in the cargo area of the SUV anyway. He pocketed the gun that she pulled, did a quick search of the first floor and came up with two more.
    Once she was secured in the back of the SUV and he was on the road, Houdini took his phone out again. Susan hadn't returned his call, not even a text. He dialed again, heard the mechanical greeting of her voice mail once more. “What's more interesting than calling me back, Babe?” He chuckled. “Are you waxing like you said you might? Anyway, call me back.”
    Rita Clark had come around by the time he reached the Old Man's house. She kicked and fussed, but when Deacon came