| |
“If you weren’t so suspicious Marty, we’d be able to keep a babysitter for a while. Gotta hang up, the handyman just arrived. No, I found him on the Internet. He’ll be fine.”
Ten minutes later, Fred, who knew little about fixing things, ripped flashing from the inside of a bedroom window then smeared a red substance over his arm.
“Mrs. Timmons, I got cut bad.” He displayed his “bloody” arm. “You’ve got a dangerous liability here. Do I call my attorney? Or are you going to pay up?”
Probably not, she thought. I think I’ll check the nanny cam.