Chapter Eighteen
Beatrice retrieved the poker, clasping it firmly in one hand and the milk jug in the other as she ran to the car among the debris. Edith was frozen, staring in horror. Noo-noo stopped barking and trotted over toward the vehicle.
And suddenly, Miss Sissy appeared, looking fiercely determined and brandishing a pair of stainless-steel quilting shears, her hair completely out of its customary bun and flying around her shoulders as she whipped it from side to side, gauging where her enemies might leap out at her.
“Miss Sissy,” gasped Beatrice weakly.
The old woman gave Beatrice a quick once-over as if evaluating her for injuries, then bobbed her head as if satisfied. She patted Noo-noo, glanced quickly over her, too. Then she leveled her narrowed eyes at Edith.
Beatrice co
