Another Hour to Kill by Anita Higman

Author:Anita Higman [Higman, Anita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications
Published: 2015-03-04T22:00:00+00:00

16 – My Oratorical Disaster

Flabbergasted, a word my Granny always used, was a totally inadequate word to describe my internal landscape. But flabbergasted was all I could come up with. What should I say to this woman who was clearly disturbed? I had no idea. I mean, this woman was a murderer. Or more precisely put, the heart that beat within Eunice was murderous. Now I really felt uneasy. “I’m sorry B.J. was so cruel to you, but killing him wouldn’t have been the answer,” I said without really thinking.

Eunice rocked her head back and forth. “And so, you think you got all the answers?”

“No, I don’t.” I crossed my arms, wondering what made this woman think she could be such a freewheeling vigilante. I knew I should let the matter go and make a fast track out the front door, but another part of me had to understand what made her tick. Maybe even change her mind. “There are reasons that the law supports the commandment thou shall not kill. Otherwise, we’d all be too afraid to leave our houses in the morning. I mean, what if we all had certain times of the day we could legally gun down somebody in the streets? We’d always be terrified that somebody could take potshots at us on the frozen food aisle.”

I was on some kind of a roll and couldn’t stop myself. “Think of the ramifications. Husbands would be calling their wives and saying, ‘Sorry, darling, I’ll be a little late for supper. I’ve got another hour to kill.’” I didn’t know where in the world my oratorical disaster had come from, but when I came up for air, I sincerely hoped Eunice wasn’t hiding a .38 Special in that carpetbagger-sized purse of hers.

Eunice tightened her purpley lips, and just when I thought she might throw a few expletives my way, she instead threw her head back and howled with laughter. “Gotta love it. You are one loose canon. Just as crazy as me. I like you.” She slapped me on the shoulder. “We’ll have to meet for coffee again sometime.”

My body sagged under her adulation, but I was glad to make some headway.

Eunice coughed again—this time a deep smoker’s cough. “Come to think of it, I can think of a gal who might like to gun me down and leave me in a pool of blood. She just might enjoy it too.”

Oh dear, I’m not sure that lovely thought fell into the headway category. Max, where are you! I’d never missed him so much. But there was one matter I was anxious to talk about. I decided to ask my question in the most blasé voice I could muster. “By the way, Eunice, do you think B.J.’s death was. . .murder?”

“Well, I wasn’t the only one who’d grown to hate him. He’d managed to build up quite a smorgasbord of folks who came to know him as the scoundrel he was.” She twiddled with her napkin, twisting it into bits.

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