Fiddlestix is once again among the Shine Clan and following her instincts. What she feels right now is that there’s more trouble on the horizon and it’s because of her.
Karl had made a similar remark. It made her sound like some sort of fortuneteller. However, she had to admit the men had a point. Thinking back on the last sixteen years, most of which had been spent in the military, she realized she could not remember a time when her intuition had failed her. Uncanny, some might call it. Deacon was speaking again, she focused on him as she served herself absently from the line.
“I spoke to Metzger. He agrees with me, he’s authorizing a platoon to come right away. He seems to have full confidence in Garwood.”
“He shouldn’t, she wants his job.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Everything about her. She wants to be in charge. The fact she has to answer to anyone really pisses her off. She’s a sneaking lowlife and I don’t trust her.”
“Do you want me to pursue the Varin matter?” He asked, suddenly changing the subject. “I have spoken to the other leaders, giving them a heads up, but I have not conveyed her husband’s message.”
“Honest opinion? No. I think the boys and I should head back to Daytona and tell him I delivered the message. I already told him I couldn’t guarantee cooperation from either of you.” “You want to get back so you can assess his intentions?”
“Yeah. If he’s after her, I’ll kill him myself.”
“Hannah, remind me of something.”
“What’s that, Deacon?”
“Never to piss you off. You’re scarey as hell.”
“Don’t worry. You’d have to do something serious for me even to think about hurting you.” She was only half kidding.
A whoop of laughter escaped him, setting his whole body laughing. His mirth was contagious, and by the time they got done with lunch they were both laughing.
© Dellani Oakes 2011