The Big Finish by James W. Hall

Author:James W. Hall
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781250005014
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Published: 2014-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

THE HAPPY BISCUIT CAFÉ WAS a modest white storefront with a picture window that stretched from the front door to its far wall. A smiling caricature on its sign showed a biscuit with flaky layers shaped into a pair of smiling lips surrounding a neat row of teeth. A weird and unappetizing logo.

He wasn’t hungry, but decided to make it his first stop. He’d save the pool halls and bars in case things got desperate. Over the years Thorn had found that diners and luncheonettes had far more reliable local intelligence than bars and pool halls, where, in addition to an inebriated and hence less trustworthy clientele, an outsider could easily ask one question too many and find himself departing the premises headfirst.

He parked Eddie’s immaculate Taurus across the street from the diner and tried calling Sugar’s cell phone. Again the call failed. Only one signal bar was flickering. Either Tina had chosen a cut-rate phone plan that didn’t have coverage beyond South Florida or else Thorn had chanced upon yet another dead zone.

The only customer in the Happy Biscuit, Thorn chose what he considered the premier spot, a backless counter stool of fake red leather in the exact center of the counter. He tried it out, swiveling to his left then his right. It squeaked harshly, which drew the attention of the blond waitress who was cleaning the coffee machine. She looked up at the clock over the coffee station. Three fifteen.

“A little early for dinner,” she said, coming over with a menu.

Her tag read MILLIE, a name more suited to her grandmother’s generation. She was in her midthirties with a tired smile. No rings on her fingers, a barrette in her hair that was hand-painted by a kid. EMMA spelled out in awkward yellow letters.

Millie was a pretty woman, maybe a decade past her innocent years, with the battle-weary look of a single mom who’d survived the worst that men could do. She’d heard all their small-town lies. Experienced every disillusionment and betrayal. Weathered the slow erosion of her reputation when one ex after another spread poisonous libels about her. At least that’s how it worked for certain women Thorn knew in Key Largo.

“What’s the worst thing on the menu?” Thorn said.

She wiped the counter in front of him, keeping her eyes down.

“Well, there’s a line I haven’t heard before.”

“I like to start at the bottom, work my way up.”

“And what’s that accomplish?”

“If I’m expecting the worst, I’m rarely disappointed.”

“Lucky you.”

“I’m looking for somebody,” he said.

“Now that,” she said, and met his eyes, “I’ve heard more than once.”

Thorn smiled.

“He’s a young man, a much better-looking, less battered, and far more idealistic version of me.”

She gave him a closer look, and whatever she saw made her flinch and clutch her rag and take a half step back from the counter.

“The pulled pork sandwich,” she said. “It’s dry and tasteless.”

“I thought this was hog country.”

“They’re dry and tasteless hogs.”

“That’s the worst you can do? Pulled pork sandwich.”

“It’s stringy and tough.”

“Okay then,” Thorn said.

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