Chapter 4
“That’s right,” she said. “Wiley. Like the coyote. A cartoon. Must be a proud Southern name. Your parents must have thought very hard to come up with such a marvelous name. And somehow it suits you. And it seems Jackie forgot to tell us he was dating a member of Duck Dynasty. Should we go deer hunting? Would you be more comfortable if we were clutching rifles and bullets and shooting and killing things? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of firearms back at the trailer, or whatever shack it is that you live in. I do so hope you have indoor plumbing. Please tell me you do. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to squat in the woods.”
“Excuse me,” I said, frowning heavily.
“It’s the vodka talking,” Mr. Ledbetter offered.
“I’m just kidding,” she said, smiling broadly. “Do try to keep up, Willis!”
“It’s Wiley,” I said.
“Oh, yes,” she said. She waved a hand in front of her nose. “I can’t get that smell out of my nostrils.”
“What smell?” I asked.