“Mr. Calhoun?” I asked as I climbed out of the Jeep and approached the house.
“I ain’t buying nothing from you,” he said. “Don’t vote and I already found Jesus.”
I grinned. “Lucky for me, I’m not here for any of that. Ida Belle and Gertie told me you have a target practice area on your farm.”
“Ida Belle and Gertie, huh? Didn’t know those two old broads was still alive and kicking.”
“They’re alive and kicking quite well.”
“Good. They’re intelligent women. Not many like them around. Most are silly and a mass of nerves. What about you, girl?”
“Me? I’m neither silly nor nervous. I just like guns and wanted to get in some practice.”
He gave me a once-over. “Got good muscle tone. A little too skinny for my taste, but you look fit enough to handle a gun.” He pointed at a barn about a hundred yards from the house. “The practice area is behind the barn. Got some boards with nails for you to put cans on. Did you bring some with you?”
“Yes. Ida Belle told me to. I have a whole garbage bag.”
“Hmmpppfff. Wasn’t kidding about wanting to practice, was you? Hand me twenty bucks and you’re welcome to shoot them cans as long as you got daylight.”
I pulled out a twenty and handed it to him. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy yourself. If you decide you need a rest, I got a bottle of moonshine…best batch I made so far. It’s been a long time since I had a pretty young thing out this way. Got some money to leave and no kids. You think about that.”
He turned around and headed back inside. I stared after him for a minute, not sure if that had been a proposition or a proposal.
I climbed back in the Jeep and drove out behind the barn. It took a couple minutes to set up a row of cans, and then I unloaded my guns on a makeshift table. I looked down at the collection and smiled. Marge had certainly known her weapons, and loved collecting them. And this was just the pistols. I hadn’t dared pull out the barely-legal and not-even-legal parts of her collection. I didn’t want people to know what she’d hidden behind that secret panel in her bedroom closet. I pulled on safety glasses got down to business.
I loaded the nine-millimeter I usually carried and let off sixty rounds, pausing only to change out the empty magazine with a loaded one. Then I switched things up a bit and did a couple rounds with a revolver. The 1911 kept calling to me, so I pulled .45 rounds out of my bag and got to shooting. The 1911 was one of my favorite weapons, and this one was an excellent pistol. The trigger was smooth as butter and with hardly any recoil, it wasn’t any more difficult than firing the nine-millimeter. By the time I was done, only shards of aluminum remained, the tiny pieces wrapped around the nails that held them in place.
I loaded another magazine in the nine-millimeter and leveled the pistol at one of the nails. A second later, I squeezed and the bullet cut the nail in half. I smiled and lowered the gun. I better stop at one. It wouldn’t do to tear up Mr. Calhoun’s shooting area. I put the pistol down on the table and pulled off the glasses.
“Impressive.” Carter’s voice sounded behind me.
I whipped around, startled that I hadn’t heard him walk up and already bracing myself for whatever accusation was likely forthcoming.
“I figured you were really good,” he continued, “but that nail…that’s fifty yards at least. I wonder can you handle farther.”
“Yes. The distance depends on carry, of course.”
He nodded.
“Are you here to arrest me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Am I supposed to be?”
“Well, it’s become a common occurrence. Maybe not arresting me, but questioning me about my movements to make sure I’m not some notorious criminal hiding out in Sinful and single-handedly destroying the town.”
He looked over at the table. “Did you get that stash from Harrison?”
“No. It belonged to Marge.”
“I searched her house after she died to make sure there were no weapons. The house was going to sit empty for a while and it’s never a good idea to have guns lying around unattended.”
“You missed a spot.”
“But you found it, and didn’t tell me.”
“It’s not your inheritance. I’ll let Sandy-Sue know where to find them when she eventually gets here to handle this for real.”
“I don’t suppose that’s all of it,” he said, looking a bit pained.
“Not even close,” I said while simultaneously admonishing myself for enjoying his discomfort as much as I did. “Anything else you can pin on me besides borrowing weapons?”
“I don’t know. Do you know any nuns?”
“Not the last time I checked,” I said, holding in a smile.
“Bummer.”
“So if you’re not here to harass me, then what are you here for?”
He pointed to a duffel bag sitting on a stack of wood that I hadn’t noticed before. “I came to shoot. I didn’t know you’d be here. Didn’t even know you knew about this place.”