Ira came in to show her his bruised neck. “And you know what kind of sympathy I get around here? None. People say they wish they’d done it. Some friends I have. Rejoicing that I’m almost choked to death by some psychopath.”“Ira, you’re exaggerating.”“My own friends telling me that’s the way I’ll die, with someone’s hands around my throat.”Dani tried not to laugh because, of course, she didn’t believe a word. “Not if I’m around with my trusty rock.”“Or Zeke with his gun. I think our friend spotted the guy lurking in the woods, and that’s why he ran off.”“Women never get credit for anything,” Dani said, propping her feet up on her art deco–style coffee table.Ira scoffed. “Your problem is you want credit for everything. Comes from being the only child of an only child. You don’t even have cousins. The rest of us learned what it’s like to be shoved out of a tree house by a brother or sister, but not Dani Pembroke. She expects people to behave.
