No Home for Killers

PRAISE FOR E.A AYMAR “Aymar is at the top of his game in this bold, high-stakes thriller where no character is safe. It’s excellently written, thought-provoking, intense and gripping with enough shocking twists and turns to keep you fully immersed until its stunning end. Don’t miss this one!” —Lisa Regan,USA Today Bestselling Author “This is a bold, relentless, breathtaking thriller from start to finish. E.A. Aymar writes about complex, damaged characters with incredible grace, anchoring the heart of this book in family conflict and trauma. Taut and twisty, with intense pacing and perfect plotting, No Home for Killers is a remarkable read. I absolutely loved it.” —Hilary Davidson, bestselling author of Her Last Breath “Tough, haunting, full of surprises and vivid characters, No Home for Killers is hardboiled and thoughtful, riven with pain and spiked with humor, and never less than a pedal-to-the-floor thriller. A gripping read.” —Meg Gardiner, Edgar Award winning author of the UNSUB series “I had so much fun reading No Home for Killers. It’s an action-packed thriller filled with characters you root for and bad guys you love seeing go down. I couldn’t stop turning the pages. One of the best books I’ve read this year!” —Matthew Farrell, bestselling author of We Have Your Daughter “E.A. Aymar’s No Home for Killers is a breathtakingly paced thriller; a character-driven journey of rage and justice that will leave you pondering the subtleties between good and evil, and right and wrong. Violent yet sensitive, Aymar’s command of the noir thriller is on full display here, in what is absolutely his best book yet.” —Jennifer Hillier, USA Today bestselling author of Things We Do in the Dark and Little Secrets “Aymar skillfully blurs the line between justice and vengeance in a gripping tale of crime and its consequences. His masterfully drawn characters are at times both relatable and brutal as the tension builds through each shocking turn until the final twist that will haunt you long after the book is closed.” —Isabella Maldonado, Wall Street Journal bestselling author of The Cipher “This book is a delight from start to finish - by turns funny, poignant, and action-packed. Twists and turns to keep us guessing the whole way. E.A. Aymar is a master storyteller, delivering fascinating characters in a realistic setting. Make a home on your shelves for this one!” —Eliza Nellums, author of The Bone Cay and All That’s Bright and Gone “With No Home for Killers, E.A. Aymar firmly establishes a home on the bookshelf next to fellow DC thriller authors George Pelecanos, David Swinson, and James Grady. The Pena sisters will stay with you long after you have closed the book, unless, like me, you reopen it to start right back at the beginning. Aymar is the goods.” —Eryk Pruitt, author of Something Bad Wrong and What We Reckon OTHER BOOKS BY E.A. AYMAR The Unrepentant They’re Gone (written as E.A. Barres) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2023 by Ed Aymar All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781662504563 (paperback) ISBN-13: 9781662504556 (digital) Cover design by Faceout Studio, Jeff Miller Cover image: © The Good Brigade / Getty Images; © Tim Robinson / ArcAngel; © caesart / Shutterstock; © Cafe Racer / Shutterstock For Nancy and Noah, always. CONTENTS PART ONE PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE PART TWO CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR PART THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT PART FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CHAPTER FORTY-THREE CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE CHAPTER FORTY-SIX CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT CHAPTER FORTY-NINE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR PART ONE When the Smoke Clears Where will you be? Where will you stand? When the smoke clears? What will people see, Held in your hand, When the smoke clears? Will you be on your knees Or in a police van When the smoke clears? Will we be free In this land When the smoke clears? Excerpted lyrics from “When the Smoke Clears” Written and recorded by Markus Peña Blues for You Records PROLOGUE “Your brother’s dead.” Everything in Melinda Peña’s world disappeared for a moment. The light, chilly rain. The courier delivering dinner to the townhouse across the street in their McLean, Virginia, neighborhood. The tightness from her arms crossed over her chest. All she realized were those three stark words from the woman at her door and the painful, fist-like memories of her brother. “You mean Markus?” Melinda’s voice was strange to her ears, as if it belonged to someone else. Someone whispering. “Yeah.” The stranger’s disregard reminded Melinda of her own estrangement from Markus. The world slowly returned. Melinda recrossed her arms, straightened her posture. Fought back the sudden press of tears and forced out a casual “Okay.” The woman looked a few years younger than Melinda, probably somewhere in her late twenties, wearing torn jeans and a gray hoodie, with a vape pen in her right hand, her left shoved in the hoodie pouch. Strands of wet blonde hair were stuck to her forehead like sloppily drawn Ss. She squinted up at the sky. “Can I come in?” Melinda didn’t move. “How’d you know