Page 11 of Stuff My Turkey
"That's right," Earl said. "Got to preserve the old bloodlines. Too many factory operations these days pumping out those bland birds with no flavor. Genetic propagation, that's where the money is now. People will pay top dollar for a real turkey."
"Come on in," I said, gesturing toward the house. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?"
"Got any bourbon?" Earl asked with a wink.
"Of course."
As I led them inside, Dottie linked arms with Honey, drawing her closer with Southern hospitality.
"So, dear," she said, her voice honeyed with polished charm, "What is it that you do?"
"I'm a public defender in Austin," Honey replied.
Dottie's hand flew to her pearl necklace, clutching it like Honey had just announced she was starting a motorcycle gang. "A public defender? You mean you... defend criminals?"
"I represent individuals who are constitutionally entitled to legal counsel regardless of their financial circumstances," Honey corrected, straightening her spine. "Everyone deserves a fair trial under our judicial system."
Earl snorted as he accepted the bourbon I handed him. "Why bother with all that rigamarole? If they got arrested, they done it. Lock 'em all up and throw away the key, I say!"
I saw Honey take a deep breath before responding. "Well, Mr. Vickery, the judicial system—"
"Earl, please," he interrupted. "Mr. Vickery was my daddy."
"Earl," Honey amended, her mouth forming a smile while her eyes remained frosty. "The system works best when both sides are properly represented."
"I suppose," Earl conceded, not sounding convinced. "Though I don't know why a cute little thing like you would want to spend her days with a bunch of hooligans. That's about as useful as a pocketwatch on a pig."
Honey's nostrils flared slightly, but she held her tongue. I quickly steered the conversation toward safer ground.
"Dottie, Earl, can I show you around the ranch? The barn's been completely renovated since your last visit."
"Actually," Dottie said, glancing at her diamond-encrusted watch, "it's getting late. We've had a long drive. Perhaps in the morning?"
"Of course," I agreed.
"We'll just settle into the RV for the night," Earl said. "Got everything we need in there. Queen-sized bed, satellite TV, full kitchen."
"You don't want to stay in the guest room?" I asked.
Dottie laughed lightly. "Oh no, dear. We're quite comfortable in our rolling home. It's nicer than most hotels."
"Nicer than this here house," Earl added with a chuckle that he probably thought was good-natured.
I forced a smile. "Well, if you're sure. Join us for breakfast?"
"Perfect," Dottie confirmed. "We'll come by around eight."
After they retreated, Honey let out a long, slow breath.
"'Lock 'em all up, I say!'" she mimicked Earl's booming voice. "'Pretty little thing.' I swear I felt my law degree shrivel up and die."
"You did great," I assured her, genuinely impressed by her restraint. "I was sure you were going to read him the riot act when he said that thing about criminals."
"The night is young," she muttered.
We headed back through the foyer to the living room where Earl's half-drunk bourbon still sat on the coffee table. I picked it up and downed it in one gulp.
"So," Honey said, kicking off her uncomfortable boots. "About that investment. How much are we talking?"
