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Authors: Lillian Duncan
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this one. Even so, I’m guessing you’re one of the good guys. Or Theresa wouldn’t love you so much.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. ” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie.
Dylan watched as Mrs. Miller stared hard at Billy Clyde’s. This was certainly a case of looks being deceiving. Dylan had thought she was a kindly grandmother type, but there was more to this woman-she was one tough cookie.
Speaking of cookies, he grabbed another.
She harrumphed and looked back at Billy Clyde. “Where’s Theresa?” Billy Clyde opened his mouth but before he could utter a word, she continued. “And don’t bother making up some ridiculous story. I know Theresa well enough to know she wouldn’t let you go running around with a bullet wound in your arm. And you are obviously looking for someone and by the panicked look on your face, I’d say it was your wife. What happened to her? What’s going on?”
Smart woman.
Rather than answer, Billy Clyde stood and paced around the kitchen. Finally, he turned back to her. “Look, I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to put you in any danger either. What I need you to do is pack a bag and go visit one your children or grandchildren. Can you do that for me?”
The two were locked in a battle of the wills as they stared at each other. Dylan was glad he wasn’t part of it.
She sighed. “Fine, but only because I’m an old woman these days. A few years ago, I’d have insisted on helping.” She smiled. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”
Billy Clyde walked over and hugged her. “Stay safe.”
They waited as she packed a bag.
“Quite the woman.” Dylan said after taking another sip of tea.
“That’s for sure, Monroe.” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie and inhaled it in one bite. “I don’t think she has anything to do with this.”
“How do you explain the phone call coming from here?”
Mrs. Miller walked back into the kitchen, carrying a flowered satchel. “I’ve been thinking about that and I have a theory. I saw a repairman out on the telephone pole yesterday. Didn’t think anything of it at the time but now I’m wondering of that had something to do with it.”
Billy Clyde nodded. “Probably.”
“He scooted up. I remember thinking that was strange. They usually use a cherry picker on their truck, but he was climbing the pole.”
“Speaking of trucks, did you see one?” Dylan asked.
She thought for a moment. “Can’t say that I did, but it could have been parked around the corner.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Miller and please don’t—”
“Not to worry, I won’t say a thing to anybody. Do you think it’s safe for me to go to my daughter’s? If not, I’ll go to a hotel. I won’t put them in danger.”
“We’ll make sure that it is. We’ll follow along until we’re sure no one is following you.”
They walked outside to her garage. It wouldn’t be long before it was completely dark and they’d accomplished nothing that day. But he wouldn’t have missed seeing the gray-haired lady walking back into her kitchen with a shotgun for anything.
They walked her to her detached garage, Billy Clyde on one side and Dylan on the other . His mind flashed back to the bomb he’d found under his own truck last year. Dylan went down on all fours and checked out the undercarriage, looking for a GPS tracker or anything else that didn’t belong.
He stood back up and dusted off his clothes. “All clear.”
Billy Clyde opened her door for her. “Don’t drive directly to wherever you’re going. We’ll follow behind to make sure no one’s following you. I’ll flick my lights at you when I think it’s safe for you to go on your way.”
She reached up and hugged Billy Clyde. “You be safe. And I’l l be praying for Theresa and you boys. And keep that wound clean.”
Dylan smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”
He shut her car door and they walked out to their own vehicle. Dylan took the driving position once
“Yes, ma’am, I am. ” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie.
Dylan watched as Mrs. Miller stared hard at Billy Clyde’s. This was certainly a case of looks being deceiving. Dylan had thought she was a kindly grandmother type, but there was more to this woman-she was one tough cookie.
Speaking of cookies, he grabbed another.
She harrumphed and looked back at Billy Clyde. “Where’s Theresa?” Billy Clyde opened his mouth but before he could utter a word, she continued. “And don’t bother making up some ridiculous story. I know Theresa well enough to know she wouldn’t let you go running around with a bullet wound in your arm. And you are obviously looking for someone and by the panicked look on your face, I’d say it was your wife. What happened to her? What’s going on?”
Smart woman.
Rather than answer, Billy Clyde stood and paced around the kitchen. Finally, he turned back to her. “Look, I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to put you in any danger either. What I need you to do is pack a bag and go visit one your children or grandchildren. Can you do that for me?”
The two were locked in a battle of the wills as they stared at each other. Dylan was glad he wasn’t part of it.
She sighed. “Fine, but only because I’m an old woman these days. A few years ago, I’d have insisted on helping.” She smiled. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”
Billy Clyde walked over and hugged her. “Stay safe.”
They waited as she packed a bag.
“Quite the woman.” Dylan said after taking another sip of tea.
“That’s for sure, Monroe.” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie and inhaled it in one bite. “I don’t think she has anything to do with this.”
“How do you explain the phone call coming from here?”
Mrs. Miller walked back into the kitchen, carrying a flowered satchel. “I’ve been thinking about that and I have a theory. I saw a repairman out on the telephone pole yesterday. Didn’t think anything of it at the time but now I’m wondering of that had something to do with it.”
Billy Clyde nodded. “Probably.”
“He scooted up. I remember thinking that was strange. They usually use a cherry picker on their truck, but he was climbing the pole.”
“Speaking of trucks, did you see one?” Dylan asked.
She thought for a moment. “Can’t say that I did, but it could have been parked around the corner.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Miller and please don’t—”
“Not to worry, I won’t say a thing to anybody. Do you think it’s safe for me to go to my daughter’s? If not, I’ll go to a hotel. I won’t put them in danger.”
“We’ll make sure that it is. We’ll follow along until we’re sure no one is following you.”
They walked outside to her garage. It wouldn’t be long before it was completely dark and they’d accomplished nothing that day. But he wouldn’t have missed seeing the gray-haired lady walking back into her kitchen with a shotgun for anything.
They walked her to her detached garage, Billy Clyde on one side and Dylan on the other . His mind flashed back to the bomb he’d found under his own truck last year. Dylan went down on all fours and checked out the undercarriage, looking for a GPS tracker or anything else that didn’t belong.
He stood back up and dusted off his clothes. “All clear.”
Billy Clyde opened her door for her. “Don’t drive directly to wherever you’re going. We’ll follow behind to make sure no one’s following you. I’ll flick my lights at you when I think it’s safe for you to go on your way.”
She reached up and hugged Billy Clyde. “You be safe. And I’l l be praying for Theresa and you boys. And keep that wound clean.”
Dylan smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”
He shut her car door and they walked out to their own vehicle. Dylan took the driving position once
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