69
Dammit. He ought to know by now not to underestimate the Tulley women. Where the hell had the girl gotten a gun? Danny flinched as she shook it to fling the rag free. The dirty cloth draped across her forearm as it fell.
Danny jerked backward, banging his head painfully against the truck’s frame as he cleared the opening. He slammed the door after himself and dropped low, squatting by the driver’s door and edging toward the engine.
“The last thing you want to do is fire that gun in the truck,” he called out, pausing by the front wheel. She had pulled the gun quickly, but desperation did not equal expertise. “Good way to lose your hearing. Not to mention shooting yourself, with a ricochet or a bullet fragment. You never know what’ll happen once you pull that trigger.”
He wouldn’t be
