Not knowing how long she might have to wait, she nibbled at her sandwich.
Soon she heard voices approaching the restaurant. She snaked her hand toward the purse, opened it and clutched the gun.
Alice entered first, her hair a disciplined halo of red-gold, her eyes vivid green. She was quarreling with Bass, who cheerfully ignored her, his penetrating eyes staring greedily at the bottles behind the bar.
Small, precocious-seeming Kippie followed, her dark hair ruffled by the wind. She stared lovingly up into Lester's eyes.
When the door had closed behind them, Amanda stood and raised the gun. They hadn't noticed her, they'd been too anxious to mount the bar stools. Ducks in a shooting gallery, she thought.
Alice was sitting nearer her, combing her hair with her fingers. Holding the gun out before her with both hands, Amanda aimed it at Alice's hair. She pulled the trigger.
At the sound, they all tried to duck, except Alice, who folded quietly to the floor. Amanda aimed again, and this time Lester crumpled.
Ducks in a shooting gallery, she thought. See if you can make that big drake, Bass, fall off his stool.
Bass fell. Kippie screamed, banishing her dimples, and fell beside him.
Antola had disappeared. It didn't matter. She returned the gun to her purse. She hadn't decided what to do next. Suddenly feeling hungry, she sat down to finish her sandwich.