“How dare you show your face here, Grady Judd. After all those lies you told
me? I should call the law on your sorry ass.”
“I−uh, hey there, sugar.” As was his habit, he kept his tone personable
despite the annoyance that scratched at his attitude. “I don’t see any need to
call the law. If I recall, I said I’d be seeing you and, well, here I am. So how
you been, sweetie?”
The young woman screamed. Literally screamed and then shouted. “I hate
you! Get out! I mean it, get the hell out!”
“Can I pay for my gas first?” This wasn’t the first time Grady had been yelled
at by a woman, so he wasn’t all that rattled by it, although it did grate at him
that he hadn’t sensed the slap coming. Or recognized the woman behind the
counter. Hell, he still couldn’t bring her name to mind. Candy, Clarise?
Cathy, Chloe? Damn.
“What in Sam Hill’s going on out here?” A rotund man with a severe comb-
over stomped out of the back office. “Kacey! Girl, I could hear you
caterwauling all the way in—Grady Judd? Well, cut me off and call me
shorty. How the hell are you?”
Grady smiled at Roscoe Cole and extended his hand. “Hey there, Roscoe.
Good to see you, buddy. How’s Mrs. Edna and the kids?”
“Edna’s same as always. Round as a melon and twice as sweet and the kids
are good. Robbie got that job with the trucking company and drives the long
hauls. His wife and two young’uns are renting that little house we bought
over behind the Baptist church. Edna likes havin’ em close. Our youngest,
Edwina, moved to Houston. She’s working as one of them flight attendants
and having a high old time flying all over.”
“Well, I’m glad your family’s all doing well, Roscoe. And I apologize about the
fracas. I’ll just pay for my gas and slide on out of your way.”