Marty nodded. “Saw that was pretty bad. He get out?”
“Yes, sir,” Mitch said. “He’s on his way here. Should be here in a couple days.”
“Good. You young’uns listen to this here woman, you hear me? She’s gonna be all right—and you will, too—but you gotta be smart about things.”
“Mr. Price—”
“Call me Marty. My…” he looked at Cami. “My friends call me Marty.”
Amber nodded. “Marty. Was that you shooting earlier?”
“Yep. Killed a couple coyotes that got too big for their britches.”
Mitch looked around. “Is someone yelling?”
Cami listened. “That sounds like…”
“Is that the Spalding woman?” Marty growled. He spat at his feet. “I’m going inside.” Turning back, he pointed at Cami. “You’d be smart to stay clear of that woman. She’s nothing but trouble.”
“Cami!” Harriet yelled, running across the yard in a flapping pink velour bathrobe and hair curlers. The fur trimmed flip flops on her feet looked like wet cats by the time she reached them, breathless.
“Dadgummit,” Marty complained, holding his ground as Harriet stormed up.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, then coughed, covering her chest, then noticed Mitch and Amber. “Oh. Hello.” Harriet stood straighter, tightening the robe around her, and coughed again.
“Harriet, this is Amber, my daughter, and Mitchell—a family friend. His father is meeting us here—he was in Charleston and had to evacuate.”
“That’s terrible,” Harriet said, covering her mouth as if the mere mention of Charleston was foul smelling. She turned to Cami, as if Amber and Mitch didn’t exist, not missing a beat. “What was all the shooting? Are you okay?”
“I—” Marty started.
“There was a rabid coyote!” Amber blurted.
Cami couldn’t help but notice the freshly painted nails on Harriet’s manicured fingers. “Yes, it was coming at me while I was tending the garden…Marty saved my life by shooting it.”
Marty’s face darkened in embarrassment, but he didn’t argue.
“Good heavens!” Harriet looked around, the hair curlers bobbing with the movement. “Are they gone?”
“Oh, they’re gone,” Marty said, smirking.
“What is this world coming to, when rabid animals are free to roam decent neighborhoods like ours? I’m going to give the local wildlife office a call just as soon as I get home. This cannot stand! We have children in this neighborhood!”
“No,” Mitch said, his voice dripping sarcasm.
“It’s true!” Harriet blurted, missing the barb completely.
“You should have seen it, foam dripping from his jaws, snarling…it was awful,” Amber said eagerly. She raised her hands like claws and pretended to scratch at Harriet. Cami gave her a look and Mitch turned away, his shoulders shaking.
“Rabies!” Harriet gasped. “This…” she said, stepping back from the group, curlers bobbing with every step. “This is all too much…Henry never came home last night…we missed our dinner reservations…”
Cami looked at Marty, who raised one eyebrow.
“I…rabies…my goodness,” she said, looking around as if a rabid coyote lurked behind every tree, ready to jump out and pounce on her.
“Harriet, your husband didn’t come home last night? Doesn’t he work in Charleston?”
“What? Yes,” Harriet said, still looking behind her. A dog barked in the distance and she squeaked in surprise. “I…I need to get home…I need…do be careful!” she said over her shoulder and broke into the most awkward sprint Cami had ever seen.
“What the Kentucky am I watching right now?” asked Marty, leaning forward on his cane.
Harriet ran across the yard, tripped, and slid on her stomach a good three yards, flinging one of her designer flip-flops out into the street. She clambered to her feet and ripped the remaining flip-flop off. Harriet staggered out to the road, crying, and scooped up it’s matching partner, then hobbled down her driveway, looking left and right the whole time.
Mitch doubled over in laughter. Even Cami found it hard not to laugh.
“I think she lost a curler…” Amber pointed out, deadpan. That sent Mitch into a fresh laughing fit.
“Don’t,” Marty said, with a warning look to them all. “That woman is trouble. Keep an eye on her.” From inside his house, Kirk barked. He bounced up and down behind a high window on the wall closest to them. “I need to be going now. Kirk wants his breakfast. Listen here—if it’ll ease your worry, I’ll put the word out on the ham nets about your husband.”
“You will? You can?” Cami blurted.
Marty nodded. “Easy as eatin’ pancakes. No promises, mind you, but the hams are working the bands, and someone might get word to him.”
Cami smiled. “Thank you, Marty. Thank you so much.”
Marty nodded. “Y’all take care.” He turned away to leave, performing a smart about face, then turned back. “Missy, when you get…decent…” his face flushed and he cleared his throat. “Come on back and I’ll give you the run down on them quail. And a radio.”
“A radio?” asked Cami.
“Decent?” asked Amber, looking at Cami. “Quail?”
“Missy? This just keeps getting better and better,” Mitch laughed.
Marty nodded at Cami, ignoring the other two. “We need to keep in touch. For emergencies, you hear? Got a couple short range walkie-talkies. Figured you may as well have one. Can’t use ‘em both, can I?”
“Well, that’s very kind—”
“Good. See you later, then.”
Cami watched him walk away, his cane thumping into the fallen leaves and pine needles that carpeted the ground under the trees. She turned back to see Amber and Mitch barely containing their laughter. “What?”
“Never heard anyone say you were indecent before, that’s all,” Amber said. “Missy.”
Cami plucked at the boxers she wore. Suddenly she felt exposed. “Enough—get back inside, you two. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. Your father’s coming home and we need to make sure this place is ready.”
“Ready for what?” asked Amber as they emerged from the trees into their own yard.
Cami stopped and took in the
