Chapter Five
Puddin’s house was a crooked little place plopped on a large lot that made the house look even smaller than it was. The yard was a riot of weeds and knee-high grass and the home was ringed by dead bushes. Considering that Dusty was a yardman by trade, it recalled the old saying, “the shoemaker’s children go barefoot.”
Puddin leaned forward in the car to peer at the driveway. “He’s home,” she said with a shrug.
“Excellent,” said Myrtle as Miles parked the car.
Wanda pushed open the car door on her side, but shook her head when Myrtle gestured for her to come along. “I’ll sit here. Got some visions comin’ through.”
Puddin looked alarmed and hurried away from the car as if the incoming visions might explode like bombs around her. Belatedly remembering her manners, she mumble
