"Steve Perry - Just Ask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

Sam sipped at his coffee again. "Yeah, well, it may be odd, but it isn't
funny."

"Well. I've got to go. You gonna paint it again?"

"Damned right I am."

"Might put on some clothes. Otherwise you might give old Mrs. Jackson across
the
street another heart attack."

When he finished the front, late in the afternoon, Sam went inside to wash up.
It was warm out, a nice spring day, and the paint was already drying in
places.
It had been an uneventful afternoon, except for the usual run of the Beaverton
Fire Rescue truck to old Mrs. Jackson's house for her monthly case of the
vapors. Old Mrs. Jackson was eighty-eight. He expected she would outlive
everybody in the subdivision, her "heart attacks" notwithstanding. He'd seen
those young delivery men going into her house and not coming out for hours at
a
time. He had his suspicions that she had something going with one of the fire
department medics, too. Maybe he should get stock in J&J's KY factory -- the
old
lady must buy the stuff by the barrel.

"How is it going?" Carly asked. She was fixing supper: mashed potatoes, pork
chops, broccoli. The smell was exquisite. Carly might just be the best cook on
the planet.

"Just fine. Where are the sleeping bags?"

"In the hall closet. Why?"

"Because I am going to camp out front tonight and watch for whoever thinks
he's
so hilariously funny. And I'm taking the shotgun with me."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Oregon law says you can shoot anybody who sneaks over and paints your house
in
the middle of the night."

The eyebrow went higher.

"Well, if it doesn't, it should."

"Why don't you just forget it and enjoy the rest of your week off? I like the
old color just fine. And it isn't in bad shape."