Some decades ago.
“What the hell kind of freak are you?”
“You’re no kind of woman at all!”
“Get out of this town!”
Dane Jordan straightened its skirt, thumbed its nose at the crowd, and left in no particular hurry. As long as it was leaving, they probably wouldn’t throw things. The trick was to leave so that they all saw it leaving – and didn’t think about the fact that its house was in this direction.
Dane had left more towns than it could count anymore. This was one of the cleanest departures so far, knock on wood. Then again, Dane had a lot of practice.
There was a car waiting in the driveway. A lean woman sat on the hood of the car. “I heard the trouble.”
Dane shrugged. Play it cool. Always play it cool. “Shit happens.”
“Not around the Ellehemaei.”
Now that was a word Dane hadn’t heard in a while. “I’m listening.”
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