A short ways down the street John steered Misty’s car into the driveway and they all got out. They all stood inside the door staring in disbelief at the destruction before them.
“Who in the world would do such a thing?” Judy asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Who’d you make mad?” John asked innocently.
“Everyone in the world, looks like,” Misty said nearly in tears.
“It had to be Danny Floyd!” Billy stated matter of factly. “He hates John with a purple passion!”
“I never done anything to him,” John said innocently. “Not to make him do this to your mother’s home. He knows I don’t live here. Not me and Judy, anyway.”
“He don’t care,” Billy said. “He knows you’re staying here. That’s reason enough for him. He ain’t real stable, you know.”
“I’m calling the police,” Misty said, beginning to sob.
“That’ll do a lot of good, knowing the Austin police,” Judy said, then began to cry with her mother.
John gathered her into his arms and held her tight, comforting her. “Well, I guess the insurance will pay for everything, right?”
“Maybe,” Judy sobbed. “But what about the emotional damage. This is Momma’s home, John! This is where we were raised after Daddy was killed! How can we ever repair, or replace the pictures and the things he bought us?”
“I don’t know, Judy,” John replied, patting her back gently and smoothing her hair. “I don’t know.”