The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) (3 page)

BOOK: The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series)
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CHAPTER FIVE

 

The lightning flash followed by a boom that made the house shudder jerked Penelope from a sound sleep. The pitch dark surrounding her remained unbroken by the comforting red glow from her clock radio.
Darn, the electricity’s out.

Throwing back the covers, she reached for her robe.
I better go check on Daddy. Don’t want him wandering around the house and falling over something.
She fished a flashlight from the drawer of her nightstand and walked out into the corridor.

“Jake’s okay.” Sam’s bulk blocked her way on the stairs. “He said he has a flashlight.”

“I was on my way to see about him, but I guess you beat me to it. What time is it?”

“A little after two.” He took her arm and walked her back to her room. “Want me to come in and hold your hand until it stops storming?”

“Like that’s all you’d do.”

“A little grope in the dark might be fun.”

“Not for me.”

Sam sighed. “You sure know how to ruin a man’s fun.” He took the flashlight out of her hand
and pointed it toward the loveseat by the window overlooking the porte-cochere. Abijah opened one eye, daring them to disturb him.

“Where did you disappear to after dinner?” Penelope asked, scooping Abijah into her lap and not resisting the arm that snuggled her close. “I waited up for you until almost eleven. I thought this was an unofficial visit.”

“It is. I just went exploring, that’s all.”

Penelope sat up straight. “You devil! You blessed broke into that building, didn’t you?”

“Guilty. Do you want to hear about it?”

“No. Well, maybe.” She settled into the circle of his arm again.

“After you told me what Mrs. Hargrove said this afternoon, I couldn’t resist taking a look.”

“I wish Parnell Garrett had caught you.”

Sam shook with laughter. “My sweet Nell, Officer Parnell Garrett met me out back and went in with me. He’s been dying to see it.”

“I don’t believe Parnell Garrett broke into a building. He wouldn’t take a stick of gum that didn’t belong to him.”

“No, I broke in, so he said of course he’d have to shadow me to make sure I didn’t steal anything.”

“Like what? A chamber pot?”

“It was wonderful,” Sam went on, ignoring her sarcasm. “Four rooms, period furnishings, bureau drawers and wardrobes still full of stuff.” He put his lips against her neck and blew softly. “And the bones of a lot of dead critters lying around.”

Penelope squealed. “Darn you, Sam!”

“No human bones.”

“That’s a relief anyway.”

“We looked around, then let ourselves out the same way we got in and went our separate ways.”

“I wonder if Brice Dolan found anything at the archives today.”

“I hope so. What a story that would make!”

“Mary Lynn’s seriously upset.”

“I think from past experience, considering the way your local editor handled what happened at Pembroke Point and the old school, the paper won’t print anything sensational.”

“A you-know-what in Amaryllis
is
sensational.”

“It’s history, Nell. Every town had one. Or two. Besides, nobody cares what the mayor’s great-grandfather did for a living.”

“I wish I knew if Daniel Dolan hung for Malachi Sanborn’s murder.”

“Actually, I mentioned that to Parnell tonight, and I think it piqued his interest. And I just happened to mention the old police records in the basement, which he admitted he knew about.”

“Parnell’s granddaddy was a Baptist preacher. He’d turn over in his grave if he knew Parnell was digging around for information about stuff like that.”

“I just planted some seeds tonight,” Sam said. “We’ll wait and see if they sprout.” He found Penelope’s lips and kissed her long and hard. “There’s room for two in that bed over there.”

“Don’t start with me, Sam.”

He stood up. “Then I’ll go back to my lonely room and cry into my pillow.”

“Maybe you ought to pray for forgiveness instead.”

“Forgiveness for what? I haven’t done anything.”

“Having impure thoughts.”

“Nell, I have intentions, not thoughts.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

He handed her the flashlight. “’Night, Nell.”

****

Penelope smelled coffee when she hit the bottom stair the next morning. “When did the electricity come back on?” she asked Jake as he poured two mugs and set them on the kitchen table.

“I didn’t stay awake to wait on it. Just glad it’s back this morning.”

“Me, too. Sam not down yet?”

“He was on his way out the back door when I made it into the kitchen. Said to tell you he’d see you around.”

Penelope’s heart sank to her stomach. “I thought he was going to be here another day at least.”

“He said he’d be back.”

“He always comes back.” She leaned her head in her hands. “Oh, Daddy, I wish he’d just stay gone.”

“Why, Nellie? He’s a good man. I like him. And he’s crazy about you.”

That’s the problem. I can’t live like he does.”

“Has he asked you to?”

“No.”

“Then just let things ride, honeychild. They’ll work out in the end.”

“I’m a little old for you to still call me that, don’t you think?”

“But that’s who you are, Nellie, my sweet honeychild. No matter how old you get, I’ll still want to take care of you.”

Penelope reached for her father’s lean, wrinkled hand. “You do, Daddy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He nodded. “Okay. Been thinking about what Mary Lynn told you yesterday.”

“Did Sam mention
he broke into the building last night? Even conned Parnell Garrett into going upstairs with him?”

Jake guffawed. “I figured he’d get in there sooner or later. What did they find?”

“Period furniture and stuff belonging to the girls who worked there.”

“I’ll be dogged. I’d like to see that before you ship me to the old folks home.”

“Daddy!”

He winked. “Anyway, I’ll look forward to whatever Hal Greene writes in the
Bugle
.”

“I hope he considers Harry’s feelings.”

“Harry’s too sensitive. We’ve all got skeletons in our closets.”

“Do we? The Kelleys?”

“I used to hear about a great-uncle who rode with the James Gang, but if everybody who claimed to ride with them really had, they’d have been an army instead of a gang. I do know your mother’s family had a pirate or two in its ancestry.”

“Really?”

“She said so.”

“I never knew that.”

“People should write down old family stories even if they’re only half true.”

“Maybe so, but if Hal writes about Harry’s family, there’s going to be you-know-what to pay.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “What’s for breakfast, honeychild?”

CHAPTER SIX

 

If Brice Dolan dug up any information at the archives, and if he shared anything with Hal Greene, the town of Amaryllis remained unenlightened. In the week before the Dog Days of Summer, everybody stayed too busy to care about the secrets of an empty building on the square; and in the week afterwards, they were too busy cleaning up and recuperating.

The B&B’s last guests, having stayed for a family reunion, didn’t leave until mid-week. Penelope was glad to see them go and thankful they’d been undemanding and hadn’t left a mess on the third floor. Mary Lynn, arriving to help clean, made the same observation, adding, “I’m glad there’s nothing coming up in September.”

“When is Harry thinking about setting up Founders Day?”

“Well, since Jeremiah Bowden arrived in this area in May, he might stick it in there. That would still give us three months before next year’s Dog Days of Summer.”

“W
orks for me.”

“But the community center will be ready to open by Christmas, so he thinks we should have a pageant in the auditorium. Get the school kids involved.”

“When are we going to get started on the museum upstairs?”

“When we get enough to display. Right now all we have is Edgar Ragsdale’s photographic stuff. Millie Dancer volunteered to go to the newspaper and have more prints made of his pictures to go in the display. She said she’d even pay to have them framed.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“But nobody in town wants to turn loose of any family heirlooms.”

“You can’t blame them.”

“I guess not.”

“You could always get Brice Dolan to donate all the stuff from the…”

Mary Lynn turned on Penelope. “Don’t even think it.”

Penelope snickered. “Or maybe he’ll fix things up and offer tours once he gets his antique store opened.”

“Whose side are you on anyway?”

“There’s no side to this, Mary Lynn.”

“Harry’s so worried about what Hal Greene’s going to write in the paper.”

“He hasn’t written anything yet.”

“Oh, but he will. You can just bet he will.”

“History, Mary Lynn. Past and forgotten.”

“It won’t be forgotten if he spreads it all over the newspaper.”

“How many people read the
Bugle
anyway? It’s not like it has national circulation. It probably doesn’t even leave the county.”

“You never know.”

Penelope stopped mopping the bathroom. “Was that the doorbell?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I’d better go see.” Penelope leaned the mop against the door. “I’ll be right back.”

****

“Hello there, Penelope, remember me?”

“Sure, I remember you, Brice. What in the world are you doing here?”

“I brought someone to meet you. This is Wally Powers. We went to college together.”

Penelope unlatched the screen door. “Come on, in. Can I get you anything? Tea?”

Brice, tall and clean-cut, smiled and shook his head. The other man, slightly shorter with a beer belly and what Jake called ‘shifty eyes’, said, “I could use a drink.”

“Sorry, I don’t keep alcohol, but I’ve got tea or soda.”

“Tea then.”

“Just make yourselves at home there in the parlor. I’ll be right back.”

“Interesting old place,” Penelope heard Wally Powers say as she returned with a frosted glass of iced tea. “Old family home, Mrs. Pembroke?”

“Actually, it is.” She sat down across from Brice.

“Nice.”

“Thank you.” Penelope glanced at Brice. “What can I do for the two of you?”

Brice sat forward on the sofa. “I guess you heard I bought the old feed store.”

“Yes.”

“Wally’s a journalist. I ran into him the other day, and when I told him what I found upstairs, he thought it would make a good story, maybe even a screenplay.”

“I thought you promised Hal Greene the exclusive. Or so the grapevine says.”

“Well, I did, but Wally’s a professional writer. He’s worked in Hollywood and also for several large papers. Won some awards for his stuff, too.”

Penelope thought Wally looked smug.
“Hal’s not an amateur. He has a degree in journalism from UALR.” She said.

Brice nodded. “But
Wally’s got the name to make this fly.”

“Where’s it going?”

Wally laugh grated on Penelope’s ears like a finger on a chalkboard. “Farther than some two-bit hometown paper,” he said.

“Wally needs a place to stay while he does some research,” Brice said, anticipating the retort he saw forming on Penelope’s lips. “Dog Days of Summer is over, and you take a break in September, so I thought…”

“How long are you looking at?”

Brice glanced at Wally, who grunted, “As long as it takes.”

“Why here instead of a hotel on the interstate?”

“I want to get to know the town,” Wally
Powers said, condescension dripping from his full lips. “Talk to the locals. See what their families knew about the town in its early days. Give me a feel of the place I’m writing about.”

If I let this troll stay here, Mary Lynn will never speak to me again. Besides, Brice promised Hal the story, and he shouldn’t have brought someone else into it.

“I’d like to help you, Brice, but Daddy and I look forward to having the house to ourselves during the time between events here in Amaryllis. Sometimes we take a little trip, so there wouldn’t be anyone here to look after things.”

Brice stood up. “I understand, Penelope.”

Wally’s mouth pulled back in a semi-snarl. “I don’t. It’s money, Mrs. Pembroke.”

“I don’t do this for the money, Mr.
Powers,” Penelope said, affecting the icy tone she’d used with smart-aleck interns in the emergency room. “I can recommend a good hotel just about twelve miles up the interstate.”

“That’s what I told him,” Brice said. “But he wanted to stay in town if at all possible.”

“I’m sorry,” Penelope said.
Sorry like I’m sorry I don’t have a wart on the end of my nose.

Wally
Powers set the half-finished glass of tea on a table so hard it sloshed over. “Small-town, short-sighted, so-called loyalty.”

“Wally, that was uncalled for,” Brice said.

Penelope shook her head. “This is my home, Mr. Powers, the place where I grew up. Yes, I’m loyal to it.” She looked at Brice, but he dropped his eyes.

From the hall, Mary Lynn called, “Pen, I finished mopping. What’s taking you so long down here?” She paused in the door of the parlor. “Brice Dolan, you snake-in-the-grass, what do you think you’re doing here?”

****

Penelope opened two cans of soda and handed one to Mary Lynn. “Cool off.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I turned him down, Mary Lynn. What else
did you want me to do? Run him off with a pitchfork?”

“For starters.”

“I’ll admit I’m disappointed in Brice for going back on his agreement with Hal Greene.”

“That
Powers guy will get him more publicity for his new store than Hal, of course. I’ve seen his name somewhere.”

“If he comes around acting like a big-shot, looking down his nose at Amaryllis folks, nobody’s going to give him the time of day.”

“That’s true.” Mary Lynn sipped her cold drink.

“I still don’t understand what the big deal is about Harry’s great-grandfather owning a saloon.”

“And that place upstairs.”

“Even that. It happened everywhere.”

“I know that, and so does Harry, but—I don’t know why Brice wants to make something out of this.”

“I guess he knows. Look, you and Harry just need to stay out of it. Let Brice do what he wants to do. He’s going to anyway.”

“But that toad Wally Powers will embellish the facts and embarrass us all.”

“Not if we don’t let ourselves be embarrassed.”

“Stay above it, you mean?”

“Right. We ought to fast-track the community center and give Hal something else to write about. Something positive.”

Mary Lynn considered that. “I guess the museum can start out small with just one exhibit.”

“Edgar Ragsdale took hundreds of pictures. They’ll fill every inch of wall space in that front classroom. We’ll worry about the others later.”

Mary Lynn narrowed her eyes. “You’re right. We’ll beat them at their own game. The people of Amaryllis are going to be a lot prouder of a community center than a wh—a you-know-what.”

“You can say the word, Mary Lynn, or maybe not. It all sounds nasty, I guess.”

“Whatever. I’m going straight down to the
Bugle
and talk to Hal. Maybe he can help us build some momentum to get people to donate things for the museum. And we could go to Little Rock tomorrow and hit up a couple of craft stores to donate some frames for Ragsdale’s pictures. Millie shouldn’t have to buy all of them herself.”

“Tomorrow’s Thursday, Shana’s half-day off. Let’s take her with us and have lunch.”

“I’ll stop by the library after I talk to Hal.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Mary Lynn rinsed her empty soda can and deposited it in the recycle bin on the service porch. “We’ll beat that weasel at his own game.”

“Brice or Wally?”

“Both of them.” Mary Lynn let the screen slam behind her as she left.

BOOK: The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series)
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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