The tires of Melody Kincaid’s black and gold Jeep Grand Cherokee jolted against the curb in front of Bunning Hardware, making the steering wheel shimmy in her hands. Melody clicked the stick into PARK and took her foot from the brake before shutting off the engine, then leaned over the console to gaze into the rearview mirror.
She patted her fire-engine coiffure, batted her artificially lengthened lashes, smacked her lips to even out the layered gloss. Her reflection smiled back wickedly. Mac Bunning couldn’t resist this package.