A Crying Shame (65 page)

That's Gray!” Tammy corrected.

Jon, now out on the porch where Linda had shoved him, picked up a small suitcase and looked at Linda.
Oh, I don't care!” she told him.
Why don't I just put a sign out on the porch: Rooms For Rent.”

This wasn't my idea,” Jon reminded her.

Do you object to my staying out here?” Tammy asked innocently.
It really was the governor's idea.” Her eyes widened as they took in the pistol belted at Linda's side.
Why . . . you're armed!”

Linda smiled shrewdly.
Yes, and so will you be if you decide to stay out here. Right, Jon?”

Absolutely. If you want to stay alive, that is.”

But,”—Linda's smile widened—
being from the city I'm sure you are unfamiliar with firearms.”

Crap!” Tammy spat the word.
Lady, I was raised on a farm outside Winnsboro. I've waded in more cowshit and shot more cottonmouths than you've eaten caviar.”

Jon slipped into the house and got quickly out of the way, anticipating the verbal barrage that he was sure was coming.

Linda arched an eyebrow expressively.
Really! Winnsboro? How quaint. I'm certain you must have learned a great deal, watching the farm animals and so forth.”