Read Online Burn by Sean Doolittle - Free Book Online Page B

tell you I was sorry. It needed to be said. I said it.”
    At first, he'd thought Larry's nod was for him. But then he felt the muzzles lift from his scalp. All around the warehouse, Larry's crew erupted with loud hoots and gibes.
    Torch watched his old pal Larry take off his long leather coat and drop it in a pile by his boot.
    A hand shoved Torch forward. He tripped on his own feet but managed to untangle himself before he went down. Somebody howled; somebody else echoed. Soon the warehouse thrummed with the sound of fists pounding on shipping crates all around the fire can.
    Torch tuned out the noise. He concentrated on not falling down. When he finally recovered his balance, he couldn't help but note the Louisville Slugger on which Larry now leaned.
    “Well, hey, ” Eyebrow Larry said, kicking up the ball bat with a boot heel and giving it a twirl. “We got history. I appreciate the fact you came forward.”
    As if to prove it, Larry reached around behind him and found a pair of pliers in the back pocket of his jeans.
    For the sake of history, Andrew assumed, he'd pulled most of the nails out of the slugging end of the bat first.

    “Lawrence.”
    In the darkness of the living room, low golden lamplight illuminated half of the last face in the world Andrew expected to find waiting for him at the end of this long, outrageous day.
    The eyebrow half got the light; the other half remained in shadow. The unmistakable grin overlapped both hemispheres.
    “Gee, Torch. Try not to sound so happy to see me.”
    “You should have called first.”
    “Yeah, funny thing. You don't seem to be listed.”
    Andrew's left hand began to ache; he realized he'd instinctively made a fist around his keyring, arranging the keys so that they poked out between his knuckles. He relaxed his grip. But not completely.
    “How long have you been in town?”
    Black leather creaked as Larry shifted. “Few days.”
    Andrew said nothing to that. The coat Larry wore looked new and expensive. Andrew could still smell the leather from where he stood. He kept standing there.
    Larry glanced toward the pulled window shades to his right. “What's that street above the highway? Palm trees all up and down both sides? Runs next to a little park with a footpath through it, has a railing so you don't fall off the cliff?”
    “Ocean Avenue.”
    “Ocean. I guess that makes sense.” Larry scratched his nose. “You might want to have a peek out the window. Couple plainclothes types up there with binocs. I think they might be watching you.”
    Andrew had already spotted the men Larry meant. One white, one black, both in jeans and short-sleeved weekender shirts. It wasn't the weekend. He'd bought a sandwich and a paperback novel and watched them from a distant park bench for most of the afternoon and evening. After they'd ridden out the sunset without vacating their position, Andrew had finally given up and vacated his.
    So the cops were staking out the beach house. He didn't see much to be done about it. Except maybe wave, if he saw them again tomorrow.
    “I went ahead and let myself in around the other side, ” Larry said. “Don't think they saw me from up there, but you never know.”
    “I take it the alarm system didn't give you much trouble.”
    Larry smirked. “You trying to hurt my feelings?”
    “How'd you find the place?”
    “That Laney Borland, ” Larry said, shaking his head. “I guess the little shit hasn't done so bad for himself out here in La La Land. Two addresses on the property rolls, and each of 'em almost a million tax value apiece. Go figure.”
    “I'm still trying to figure out what you're doing here.”
    Eyebrow Larry Tomiczek drummed his thumbs on the wide wooden arms of the chair.
    “You know, ” he said, “I came three thousand miles to see you, and you still haven't even said hello.”
    “What do you want, Larry?”
    Larry smiled. “That all depends what you got to drink around here.”

    On his way west, Andrew had heard