Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 57

She cringed. “Oh, honey. When you put it that way, it does sound the same, doesn’t it? But what else can you do?”
My heart ached so bad I could hardly breathe. The only thing I knew to do was go with my gut, and it told me to keep Bruce Wayne as far away from this situation as possible.
But I wondered how much I was going to lose to take down J.R. What would be the ultimate price for my lies and deceptions? Would the outcome be worth the risk?
It was far too late to ponder that now.
I sucked in a deep breath and stood. “We have work to do, so let’s get to it.”
After we put away the groceries, we stepped out into the crisp cool morning. It was Muffy’s perfect kind of day, so she protested vehemently when I made her stay inside. But I worried that the noise from gunshots would spook her enough that she’d run off.
In addition to picking up food for us to eat, Neely Kate had bought some cheap canned vegetables to use for targets. We carried them out behind the house, and she set four of them up on the wooden fence posts lining the pasture on the right side of the barn. In days past, I was certain it used to contain Dora’s horses, but now the field was overgrown and full of weeds.
Neely Kate paced us about fifty feet back, then explained that my gun was a semi-automatic and hers was a revolver. Mine held more ammunition than hers, but she said it didn’t matter to her.
“It’s important to be comfortable with your weapon. This was my grandfather’s gun, and I learned to shoot with it. I’m a pretty accurate shot, so I make each one count. But you definitely need the practice.”
She showed me how to line up the gun with the target, then gave me tips on how to try to make my shots more accurate, since Mick Gentry’s men weren’t going to stand still and let me get them lined up before I fired on them.
“You killed Daniel Crocker with a pretty accurate shot. How’d you do it?”
“He was lunging at me. He was close, and I pulled the trigger in self-defense.”
Her lips pressed together as she gave it some thought. “If it makes you feel any better, if you end up shooting anyone, it will probably be up close. Jed and I will take care of anyone who threatens you from a distance.”
The gun shook in my hands. “How can you say that so casually?”
“What do you want me to do? Whine and cry about it? I put myself in this position, and I know what I’m doing.”
“But how? How do you know what you’re doin’? You would have killed that man last night if I hadn’t forced a vision.”
“There are things about me you don’t know.”
“Obviously.”
She stared at me for a moment. “I lived a hard life. Before and after I went to live with my granny. I’ve seen things. I’ve done things. I’ve had things happen to me.” She lifted her chin. “We’ll just leave it at that.”
She had hinted that life with her mother had been awful, but I’d never known how awful it had been. I reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Neely Kate.”
Determination filled her eyes. “My cousins taught me how to defend myself. I can bring a grown man to his knees and then shoot his acorns off without even aiming.” She took a step away. “But you need practice. So let’s get to it.”
Turning into a no-nonsense drill sergeant, she taught me how to load the chambers of both of the guns. Then, without any warning at all, she lifted her gun and shot the can of green beans clean off the fence post. She turned to me with a grin. “Your turn.”
I moved to the next fence post and lifted my gun, aiming for a can of corn. I fired off several shots, but the can was still in pristine condition. Well, as pristine as a can of corn could be.
“Hmm …” she murmured, glancing from me to the post. “Maybe you should move closer. Especially since we’ve already established that if you shoot someone, you’ll be within a short distance.”
“I don’t want to shoot anyone at all.”
“And I don’t want to take Granny to Bingo next Tuesday night, but we all have our crosses to bear. So be that as it may, you need to be prepared in case you do.”
I let her drag me closer. “After I get J.R. to confess, I’m going to leave my short foray into a life of crime behind.”
“That’s probably for the best, but we still gotta survive this adventure. So shoot that can of corn.”
“I’d rather shoot the lima beans. I hate lima beans.”
“Fine,” she huffed, moving us over to the post that held the hated vegetable. “Now show me how much you hate these suckers.”
She moved back behind me, and I lifted my gun, standing about twenty feet from the target. I fired five shots before I nicked the side of the can.
“Okay …” she drawled. “So you need a little work …”
I put my hand on my hip. “You think?”
She laughed and picked up another can from the bag she’d set in the middle of the backyard. She set the sauerkraut on the empty fence post where the green beans had been, then started stomping toward me. “Come on. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
I stood behind her as she lifted her gun and shot all four cans off their posts—one right after the other, all in a matter of seconds.
“Oh, my word,” I murmured in amazement. “Why did you never tell me you were like Annie Oakley?”
“Because I don’t want Ronnie to know.”