Page 242 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I catch a flash of metal—binoculars maybe?
“Weren’t you two headed to the rodeo today?” Jade folds her arms over her front.
Her damp bra soaks through the material, outlining everything. Yeah, I look. I’m only human, and it does all kinds of things to me.
“We were.” Faye’s outfit is practically humming today
Quite literally.
Her pale yellow tea dress swarms with embroidered bees. And the flurry of wire bobbing bees on her Kentucky Derby hat dances with her every motion. “We also wanted to check out the city.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And you both just happened to be strolling behind the feed store? In the middle of the industrial zone? And ended up at the same animal shelter as us?”
Wilma smiles too fast—if you can call whatever her mouth is doing a smile. “Such good air back here. Very rustic.”
She glances at Faye, who’s suddenly very interested in adjusting the strap of her big bag, which looks unusually stuffed.
“Were you two spying on us?” Jade steps closer like she’s about to make a citizen’s arrest.
“Spying?” Something clicks in Wilma’s bag. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”
I gesture toward the bulging tote. “You got binoculars in there?”
“No,” she huffs.
“A set of walkie-talkies?”
“Absolutely not.”
“A hidden microphone in that big brooch of yours?”
Faye gasps, all guilty.
I cross my arms. “I’m one thought away from thinking they’ve attached air tags to us.”
“I agree.”
Wilma clears her throat loudly. “We’re just out stretching our legs. Doc says it’s good for the joints. Decided antique hunting was a fun way to spend our morning.”
I’m pretty sure their idea of fun is driving everyone else bonkers.
“Wow.” Jade shakes her head. “Y’all don’t have anything better to do than follow us around?”
“Those are cute shirts.” Wilma is a master of changing topics. “How did you end up in them?”
Jade and I share a look.
“You watched the entire play yard date, didn’t you?” Jade’s accusation is well warranted.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wilma looks away, like the guilty bird she is.
“But, are those the shirts that were tinkled on?” Faye reaches for the bag in Jade’s hand, not caring that she’s just blown their cover.
Sneaky lil’ old spinsters.
Jade shifts the bag behind her back. “This is not for you.”
Faye slaps her arms against her sides, and two panels unfurl like wings. “You might as well let us wash them.”
