Jeremiah peered through the peephole now, watching as the fat twit preened what little hair he had on his head. Jeremiah reached for his gun, and then hesitated. The last thing he needed was for them, or, more importantly, the courts, to think he was a raving gun-wielding lunatic whenever someone came to the door. He’d had a bad experience of that with the Bible bashers. But at least everyone secretly knew the Bible bashers had
