"You did! I didn't!"
"I'm not going to argue with you about this, Holly."
Holly turned to where Daisy lay. "Daisy, bite Ham."
Daisy got up, went over to where Ham sat at the table and took his ankle in her mouth.
"Harder," Holly said.
"Ow!" Ham yelled.
"Now, Daisy, tear off his leg and hit him over the head with it."
"No, no, Daisy!" Ham cried, prying her jaws from his ankle. "Don't hurt your grandfather!"
"Is that how you think of yourself? As Daisy's grandfather?"
"Well, she's the closet thing to a grandchild I've had so far."
"Daisy," Holly said, "if he starts asking about your sex life, kill him."
Somewhere in the house a small chime rang.
"What's that?" Ham asked.
"It's a car coming down the road," Holly said. She looked at the umbrella stand by the door and confirmed that the barrel of Jackson's shotgun still protruded from it.
"You worried?" Ham asked.
"I guess what we saw this morning spooked me a little," she said. She got up. "I'll see who it is."
She walked toward the front door with some trepidation.
17
Holly checked the peephole first, but all she could see was the rear end of a black car parked outside. She couldn't see anybody at the door. She hooked the beefy chain on and cracked the door.
"Expecting enemies?" a man's voice asked.
"Harry?"
"One and the same."
Holly opened the door and flung her arms around the man. "Come on in the house. Ham's here."
She led Harry into the living room. "Ham, it's Harry Crisp, remember?"
Ham stood up. "Sure, you're the Fed who worked with Holly on that Palmetto Gardens thing."
"One and the same," Harry replied, shaking Ham's hand.
"Harry has risen in the world since then," Holly said. "He's now the agent in charge of the Miami FBI office."
"Mostly thanks to you and
Holly, Ham," Harry said, dragging up a chair.
"Can I get you something to drink?"