The Big Finish by James W. Hall

the badass swung his free arm and cursed until he was all used up. On the way out of the bar Sugarman unlocked his cuffs, never saying a word to the bigoted asshole, and he and Thorn walked the college girl to her car, and with his blue lights flashing, Sugar saw her safely back to the motel where she was staying a mile down the road and then he drove home to his wife.
    That was Sugar, the rules he played by. The man Thorn was dismissing.
    Sugarman turned on Cruz.
    “Where’s Tina being held?”
    “Tina’s fine,” Cruz said. “Don’t worry about her.”
    Sugar rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth as if to smooth away the hurt that was showing there.
    “Where is she?” Sugar’s voice was tightly controlled, eyes hot.
    “Tina was questioned by my associates, she’s agreed to cooperate with their investigation, now she’s headed back home to Key Largo.”
    “Driven there by Homeland Security agents,” Sugar said.
    “That’s right.”
    “I tried calling her, but there’s no answer.”
    “Try again, she’s probably home by now.”
    Sugar dug his phone out of his front pocket. He went to the corner of the room, made the call, must’ve gotten her voicemail. He left a message that he would talk to her tomorrow, speaking in a soft voice, consoling, but with an edge of urgency.
    When he was done, Sugar said, “How you getting to Carolina without a car? Hitchhike?”
    “We’ll manage,” Cruz said.
    Sugar faced Thorn, peering into his eyes, trying to determine if this was legit or being done under duress. One last chance.
    “Come outside,” Thorn said.
    “Wait a minute,” Cruz said. “What’re you doing?”
    “I’m having a private conversation with my friend.”
    She gave him a warning look. Thorn put his arm around Sugar’s shoulder and steered him to the door and led him out into the dark parking lot.
    “All right, old buddy. What the hell is going on?”
    “Do you trust that woman?” Thorn said.
    “Does a bear shit in the Vatican?”
    “Yeah, well, neither do I.”
    “Okay, so let’s get our luggage and go.”
    “I can’t do that. I need to stick with her. For Flynn’s sake.”
    “And me?”
    “And you need to go find Tina.”
    “Tina wouldn’t mess with guns or any of this bullshit. I know her better than that.”
    “So go track her down, make sure she’s okay. I’m staying with Cruz. I’ll call your cell tomorrow. It’s going to be all right.”
    “Is it?”
    Sugar searched Thorn’s eyes, saw his resolve, and responded with a grim smile. They’d danced these steps before. The push/pull of a prickly loner and his bighearted buddy. How many rebuffs had there been? How many more could their friendship endure?
    “You might as well get started,” Thorn said.
    Sugar blew out a breath and took a half step back.
    “That’s what you want? You don’t want to sleep on it?”
    “Good luck with your job interview.”
    “Yeah,” Sugar said. “I’ll knock ’em dead.”
    They went back into the motel room. Sugar got his bag, didn’t look at Cruz, didn’t bother with Thorn either. He carried his bag out to the car, pitched it in the backseat. Through the open drapes Thorn watched him back out of the slot and drive off into the darkness. Standing there Thorn felt as hollowed out and useless as a sloughed-off cicada skin clinging to a branch.
    “Good work,” Cruz said.
    “That was all bullshit, the Homeland Security stuff, Tina agreeing to cooperate. What’s really going on?”
    “When we get to Pine Haven, it’ll all be clear.”
    “And those shotguns?”
    “There’s a high likelihood we’ll be needing them.”
    Thorn moved past her and walked into her room. He went to the bed, where the duffel was laying beside her suitcase. He unzipped it and hauled out one of the AA-12 shotguns and turned to her, holding its serious weight in both hands.
    “Okay,” he said. “Show me how to work the goddamn thing.”

NINE
    THORN LAY ON THE MOTEL bed in the dark, staring at