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"Let's get to the part that upset you," I reminded her. |
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Brenda sighed. "Well, there we are. It's damp, and the place is really grungy. I'm poking around looking for some sign of those two thumb, three finger prints we've heard about when all of a sudden it really starts to rain. Percy baby throws down the tailgate and crawls up under the shelter of the cap. Within minutes it's pouring, and I crawl up there with him. All of a sudden, Percy, the fat little druggist, is Percy, the fat little sex maniac. He's clawing, biting, breathing heavy, tearing at my clothes. The little bastard tried to rape me. So I coldcocked him, a fistful of Brenda Cashman knuckles right to his fat chops. I never hit a man that hard before. He went down like a sack of rocks." There was the look of universal woman triumphant in her snapping eyes. |
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"Let me guess the rest. You crawled out in the rain, back in the cab of the truck, drove him back to town and left him in front of his store with no apology, right?" |
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"Wrong. I couldn't find the damn keys. Finally I got desperate, walked out and left him there." |
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"You walked all the way back into town?" |
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Brenda nodded. "That's how I got soaked to the bone." |
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Outside of the fact that Percy had come unglued and tried to put the make on |
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