“You just look them in the eye, smile sweetly, and keep your smart mouth shut.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Gotta run.”
Penelope sat down again. “Well.”
“Poor Shana. They’ll eat her alive.”
“Maybe not. If they want to see their grandchild, they’d better make nice.”
Mary Lynn reached for her zebra-striped bag. “I’m going to check on Harry. He sure didn’t want to go to that Town Council meeting this morning.”
“Here, take him a kolache.” Penelope slipped one into a plastic baggie. “It’ll sweeten him up.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Mary Lynn, just chill out. Harry’s no more a suspect than you or me.”
Mary Lynn raised her eyebrows. “Maybe you’re not, but I’ve got motive.”
Penelope laughed. “You? Well, did you do it?”
Mary Lynn rolled her eyes and stalked out the back door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“It’s all over town,” Jake said, arriving home from a day-long session with the Toney twins. “Wally Powers was either shot or stabbed or strangled or beaten to death. Take your pick.”
“Well, now we know how, so what about who?”
Jake grinned. “If you took a poll in town, the butler did it.”
“I take it nobody cares.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but everybody agrees he got what was coming to him for trying to stir up trouble in Amaryllis.”
“That’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” But I thought the same thing. After everything that’s happened, maybe we’re all turning into icicles.
“The one thing I do know for sure is it happened at the feed store. There’s police tape around it, and I saw Brad going in and out a couple of times.”
“What about Brice and that lady photographer?”
“Haven’t seen him, but the little gal was everywhere, taking pictures, getting names and having releases signed. Says she’s going to do a photo spread for some magazine.”
“She didn’t take your picture, I hope.”
“No, she was finished before she got around to me. But I did talk to her.”
“Really? About what?”
“I guess somebody told her I was Brad’s grandpa. She wanted to know what I thought about everything.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I just told her I took the fifth—lived here all my life, wanted to stay on. ‘Course, what I really think is the whole thing is a tempest in a teapot as your mother used to say. Can’t imagine what Harry’s so stirred up about.”
“I’ve been thinking that. I never heard of Malachi Sanborn until Mary Lynn mentioned the name.”
Jake gazed out the window above the kitchen sink and then turned around, squinting. “The Sanborns were his mamma’s family. I remember his grandfather. He was born here, but when he died, Harry’s mamma and daddy took him up north for burial. I remember everybody talking about it.”
“That’s odd. Not people talking but taking him out of Amaryllis.”
“He married a woman from somewhere up there. Maybe she was buried there. I don’t remember ever seeing her.”
“Well, then, it would make sense for him to want to be buried by his wife.”
“Sure, it makes sense, but I remember everybody talking about it, which makes me wonder now just why it didn’t make sense to them.”
“Wait a minute, Daddy, I thought Malachi Sanborn’s wife sold the saloon and got the you-know-what out of Dodge.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hal wrote in the Bugle.”
“But Harry’s grandfather came back and raised a family here?”
“I guess so.”
“Now that’s downright spooky.”
“Why?”
“His mother leaves town, shakes the dust from her feet, so to speak, but one of her sons comes back and spends his life here.”
“Maybe Harry knows.”
Penelope chewed her lip. “Maybe what Harry knows is why he doesn’t want the story out.”
“I don’t know, Nellie. Let’s get a beer and a Reuben at the Sit-n-Swill tonight. Mike and Millie are bound to have picked up some scuttlebutt.”
****
“He’s been here all afternoon,” Millie said, nodding in the direction of Hal Greene, who sat nursing a beer at a back table.
“How much has he had to drink?” Penelope whispered.
“Not that much. Mike asked him if he wanted something to eat, but he said no. That was about four o’clock. I guess he’s a prime suspect in this latest situation.”
“Situation. That’s putting it nicely.” Penelope watched Jake take a bottle of beer from Mike and head to Hal’s table.
“Penelope, Mike and I thought we were moving to a nice, quiet, slow-moving town, in spite of what happened at Pembroke Point before we got here. But now I don’t know. Bones under the boiler at the old school, a body in the basement, a haunted fireplace here, and who knows what else.”
“You don’t believe the fireplace was really haunted,” Penelope said.
“I didn’t think so, but it’s like the town is jinxed all of a sudden.”
Penelope watched Jake lean forward across the table as Hal’s lips moved, though not enough for her to read them. “I don’t think it’s jinxed, Millie.”
“I hope not. We like it here. Did you and Jake come for a Reuben?”
“I thought so, but Daddy seems to have forgotten all about that. I wonder what Hal’s saying?”
“More than he’s said to Mike or me all afternoon.”
“I’ll settle for some sweet tea and a bowl of those special chips from Dallas.”
“Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get them.” Millie bustled off.
Penelope took the table by the wall where the evaporative cooler had once groaned its life away. Now an electric unit filled the room with a silent chill. Millie came back with two teas and a large bowl of chips with salsa and sat down across from Penelope. “We’re never very busy on Thursdays.”
“You make up for it on weekends though.”
“Absolutely.”
“Bikers coming back?”
“A few once in a while, but none of the hardcore type, at least not often.”
“What type is that?”
Millie laughed. “The tattooed, pierced kind who scare everybody half to death.”
“They didn’t bother Roger Sitton when he had this place.”
“They don’t bother Mike and me either, but some of the people who never came here until we took over are put off when two or three of them roar up.”
“Do they cause any trouble?”
“Drink their beers and leave.”
“What did you do with that pool table Roger had in the back room?”
“It’s still there. A couple of older men come in to play once or twice a week. But we don’t advertise it. We don’t want to get anything started we can’t live with.”
“Trouble with a capital T,” Penelope said.
“Something like that. Somebody came by the other day and wanted to put some slot machines back there, too, and Mike told them when hell froze over.”
“Are those even legal? I mean, I know they have some games down in Hot Springs, but I thought that was a special deal.”
“It’s called gaming, and it doesn’t matter whether it’s legal or not—we don’t want any part of it .”
Across the room, Hal Greene rose so abruptly his chair turned over, threw down a bill on the table, and walked out. Jake joined Penelope and Millie. “Says he didn’t do it,” he said.
“Everybody heard Wally Powers threaten him.”
Jake nodded. “Uh-huh. And guess who found the body upstairs in Miss Madeline’s room?”
Penelope’s mouth dropped open. “Not Hal.”
Jake nodded. “Bingo.”
Millie’s eyes widened. “Poor guy. Watching those old clothes and other stuff brought up out of the firep
lace over there was bad enough, but at least we didn’t find a body—and a fresh one at that!”
“He’s pretty shaken up.”
“Surely the police don’t suspect him—do they?” Penelope asked.
“Nah, at least not right now, but somebody else does. When he opened up this morning, he found a letter somebody slid under the door. It said he’d better watch his step.”
“This is worse than a soap opera,” Millie said.
“It gets a lot worse,” Jake said. “He gave the letter to the police, but not before he took a good look. It was on city stationery—from the office of Mayor Harry Hargrove.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
By Monday, the police tape had disappeared from around the feed store, and Brice Dolan stood on the sidewalk supervising two men as they emptied a large truck parked on the street in front. Penelope watched from a distance as the ramp lifted off the ground and became the door. As soon as the truck pulled away, she crossed the street and went inside.
“Hello, Brice. Opening soon?”
He lifted an antique mantle clock from a box and inspected it. “This weekend, I hope.”
“I see. Be sure to let everyone know.”
“How? Hal Greene refused to run the ad I took him the other day.”
“I didn’t know that. Well, put up signs in other store windows around town.”
“Tried that, too. Got turned down the first three places I went, so I quit.”
“You own the Daisy Café.”
His laugh sounded bitter. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry about all this, Brice, but you did sort of turn your back on your roots when you brought in Wally Powers.”
“He was a friend. A fraternity brother at the University.”
“So he approached you, is that it?”
Brice set the clock aside and plunged his arm back into the box. “Yeah.”
“He made a lot of people mad. There’s a better way to get information than suggesting their ancestors worked in a—uh…you know.”
“I know. I tried to tell him that.”
“And then you did do Hal Greene a dirty turn, promising him the story and not carrying through.”
“What is this, Penelope, Sunday School hour?”
“Nothing like that. I just came by to tell you I’m sorry about what happened and wish you well.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it, Brice. This town has had enough trouble.”
“And I suppose I’ve just added to it.”
“I didn’t mean—I better go.” Penelope had her hand on the door when a voice, dripping with southern honey, drifted in from the back. “Where do these go, darlin’?”
Jill Jerome wafted through the door and froze when she saw Penelope. Brice’s face took on the color of the crimson velvet cloth on which he was displaying the antique clocks. “Oh, hello there.” The honey droplets turned to icicles.
“Hello,” Penelope said. “I was just leaving.”
“Not on my account, I hope.” A tawny mane of hair set off small, exquisitely made-up features of a face that looked younger than it had any right to look.
“I just dropped in to wish Brice luck with his opening.”
“Thanks, Penelope. See you around.”
“Penelope? The lady with the B&B?”
“Guilty.”
“And your son is Detective Brad Pembroke.”
“That’s right.”
“He’s such a gentleman.” The dripping honey thawed and became a gush. “He was so thoughtful after that terrible thing that happened to poor Wally.”
“It’s his job,” Penelope said. “I’ve got to go. Nice meeting you.”
“We weren’t introduced. I’m Jill Jerome. I came to take pictures for Wally and stayed to help Brice put his shop in order. We were all college buddies.”
“That’s nice.” You sure as heck weren’t a fraternity buddy. Maybe a shack-up, but—Penelope cut off her thoughts. “Bye now.” She tried not to sprint through the door.
****
At the library, she almost collided with Miss Maude Pendleton in a navy blue dress buttoned at the neck and wrists despite the August heat. I think she wore that same dress every day she taught school. And that knot of hair on top of her head makes her look ten feet tall even if she’s shorter than I am. “Good morning, Miss Maude.”
“Penelope Kelley. I hope your choice of reading matter is better than it was in high school.”
“I try to remember what you taught me, Miss Maude.”
The woman shifted her book bag from one bony arm to the other. “Your son remembered his manners when he came to speak with me on Friday about that disgraceful matter at the feed store. Fulghum’s Feed Store.”
The disgraceful matter is a murder, but whatever floats your boat. “I’m glad to hear it, Miss Maude.”
“He heard Mr. Powers had paid a call on me. A brief call.”
“I see.” I can just see you beating him with that old skeleton umbrella, too. Penelope bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing at the mental picture.
“I asked him—your son, not Mr. Powers—if he believed I was involved in the matter. He assured me he did not.”
“Of course not, Miss Maude.”
“As I explained to him, Mr. Powers quite forgot himself and inquired into my background, something a gentleman should never do.”
“I doubt he was a gentleman.”
“He was not. He refused to leave on request, so I had to employ another method to persuade him to go.”
That blessed bony umbrella. You’re magnificent, Miss Maude! “That’s understandable.”
“I explained all that to Bradley. He quite understood.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“I’ll be on my way now. My niece is waiting for me in the car.”
“It was nice seeing you, Miss Maude.”
The woman inclined her head, a queen acknowledging her loyal subject, and moved on, back straight, head erect.
I hope I age as well as Miss Maude Pendleton. Penelope covered her mouth to stifle her laughter as she thought again of the umbrella and the luckless Wally Powers. Inside, Shana waved from the non-fiction section where she stood shelving books.
“I’m really curious—what does Miss Maude Pendleton check out to read?”
“Not hot and spicy, that’s for sure.” Shana giggled. “But she does like mysteries. I try to steer her to something safe.”
“Safe for her or for you?”
“For both of us. I saw you go into the feed store. What’s up?”
“I’m not sure. Did you know Jill Jerome is still around? She’s helping Brice put the shop in order. And she called him ‘darlin’.”
“Really?”
“He didn’t introduce us, but she said they went to college together.”
“Studied for exams together, too, I’m sure.” Shana winked.
“She didn’t elaborate.”
“So what’s the latest on the murder?”
“How should I know? I’m not in the loop. Bradley’s a good cop—keeps his mouth shut.”
“As he should. I heard somebody knocked the guy in the head.” Shana glanced up as if expecting to be enlightened.
“Then it had to be a man, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. Do you think the Bugle will have any details on Wednesday?”
Penelope shrugged. “If Hal has them, he’ll print them.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see then.” Shana pushed the empty cart ahead of her and skirted the circulation desk. “Isn’t it about time for the Gray Ghost to turn up again?”
“He doesn’t have a schedule.”
“You’re drooping. It’s time for him to come.”
“Don’t you blessed start on me. I get it from Daddy all the time.”
Shana widened her eyes, all innocence. “I’m not suggesting anything.”
“Stuff it, Shana. I think a hot and spicy is exactly what I need right
now. Well, maybe just warm and spicy.”
“You know where they live in here.” Shana handed Penelope a plastic bag. “Fill ‘er up.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Responding to the door chime after lunch the next day, Penelope hoped it wasn’t an overnight guest. Though all the rooms were clean and ready, and she had all the staples for the pre-planned menus, the latest turn of events in Amaryllis had soured her on out-of-towners for the time being. She opened the door and found herself face to face with Jill Jerome.
“May I come in?” the woman asked, the honey beginning to drip again.
Penelope unlatched the screen and pushed it open. “Sure. Can I get you a glass of tea?”
“No, thanks, I just have a minute.” Jill looked around. “This house would make a great setting for a photo shoot.”
“Thank you—I think.”
“Let me guess—early 1880s?”
“Late. It was one of the first permanent structures in Amaryllis after Jeremiah Bowden laid out the town.”
“Did your family build it?”
“My grandfather bought it from the first owners. Daddy grew up here, and so did I.”
“I met your father. Nice old fellow.”
Penelope swallowed her outrage. Jake was seventy-five, but he was far from an ‘old fellow’. She showed Jill into the parlor and sat down on the loveseat under the bay window. “You wanted to talk to me?” she prompted.
Jill strode to the fireplace and ran her hand over the carved walnut mantle. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “Yes, actually, I just wanted to tell you that you didn’t see what you thought you saw yesterday.”
“What did I think I saw?”
The warm honey turned cool. “Brice and me. I just stayed around to help out an old friend.”
“I took you at your word.”
“I wasn’t sure.” She ran her hand over the polished wood again. “I was so upset over what happened to Wally that I didn’t want to go back home right away. I worked for him from time to time, so his death was quite a shock.”
A shock maybe but not a life-changing event. “Where’s home?”
“St. Louis originally, but I live in Dallas now.”
“I’ve been there a couple of times. It’s an interesting place.”
“I have a studio there, but I travel on assignment a great deal.”
The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) Page 5