Gone in a Flash Read Online Free PDF Page A

front of him was a sea of lockers.
    ‘What?’ Mr Jones asked.
    ‘If you were in high school, assuming you ever went to one, and I’m assuming a lot here, where would you put your shit?’
    ‘I dunno,’ Mr Jones said. ‘One of these lockers?’
    ‘Yeah, dumbass, one of these lockers. But which one?’
    Mr Jones shrugged.
    ‘Shit,’ Mr Smith repeated. ‘Come on,’ he said in resignation, and led the way back to the rental.
    I almost choked on an almond I was laughing so hard at the antics of the Buchanans, when the phone rang.
    ‘Hello?’ I managed.
    ‘Hey, babe, what’s wrong?’ my husband asked.
    ‘Nothing. Just busy,’ I lied.
    ‘Doing what?’
    Well, there’s only so much I’ll lie about. Evasions, half-truths, a yes when a no is in order, or vice versa, but a total invention? Not so much. I sighed. ‘I’m reading. So sue me.’
    Willis laughed. ‘It’s OK. You’re allowed. Now that you’re the one bringing in the big bucks.’
    ‘And don’t you forget it, buster!’ I said.
    ‘Where are the girls?’
    ‘At an impromptu swimming party at the pool.’
    ‘Are they closing the pool tomorrow?’
    ‘I have no idea.’
    ‘You want to meet me in town for a sexy one-on-one dinner tonight?’
    ‘Ooo, baby,’ I said. ‘Meat and everything?’
    ‘I can even make it red.’
    ‘Let me check and see if the girls have their phones. I’ll call you back.’
    They did. At least the first one I called, Bess, had hers.
    ‘Your dad and I are meeting in town tonight for dinner. You three are on your own. I’ll leave pizza money on the kitchen table.’
    ‘OK, Mom. Y’all have fun!’
    I planned to.
    ‘That’s new,’ Mr Smith said, as they sat in the Taurus across the street from the Pugh home.
    ‘Huh? What’s new?’ Mr Jones asked.
    ‘Wake the hell up, asshole. We have a new vehicle in the mix,’ Mr Smith said.
    ‘Huh?’
    Mr Smith sighed. ‘The woman. Mrs Pugh. She’s driving one of those new Audis. The two-seater.’
    ‘Cool,’ Mr Jones said, watching it turn out of the driveway.
    ‘The truck’s gone, the minivan’s gone, now this. That means nobody’s home, dumbshit. We can go in,’ Mr Smith said.
    ‘Why?’ asked Mr Jones.
    Mr Smith rotated his neck, hearing and feeling the satisfying clicks. It came from gritting his teeth every time he had to communicate with Mr Jones. ‘Because maybe we can find out what locker number the bag is in,’ he said, enunciating each word, and saying it slowly. Hoping for a response other than Mr Brown’s usual ‘huh.’
    ‘Yeah, OK,’ Mr Jones said. ‘Both of us or just one?’
    ‘There are three girls,’ Mr Smith said. ‘We might have to split up.’
    ‘Right.’
    Mr Smith got out of the car and walked casually across the street. He knew exactly how to play this. If they acted like normal visitors, no one would bat an eyelid. Deliberately making a bit of a production, he rang the doorbell, looked at his watch, rang the doorbell again, and said, out loud, ‘I guess we’ll try the back door.’
    They were walking up the driveway toward the back of the house, when the door to the house with the neighboring driveway opened and a woman came out.
    ‘Hey,’ she said.
    She was a big woman, Latina, with a scowl on her face.
    Mr Smith turned to her and smiled. ‘Hey, yourself!’ he said cheerfully.
    ‘The Pughs aren’t home right now,’ the Latina said.
    ‘That’s OK, they said we could leave something for them in the backyard,’ Mr Smith said.
    ‘Really? What would that be?’
    The smile on Mr Smith’s face was getting tight. ‘That’s between the Pugh family and us, ma’am,’ he said.
    ‘I’ve seen your car parked across the street several times today, and last night,’ the woman said. ‘I find that suspicious.’
    ‘I’m afraid you’re being paranoid, ma’am,’ Mr Smith said.
    ‘No,’ she said, pulling a badge out of her pocket. ‘I’m just being a cop. Now who should I say stopped by?’
    Mr Jones sprinted off