The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Disappointed, she turned toward the house again. Then she saw the reporter coming up a dark path from the direction of the beach.

  “Jerry!” she called softly.

  “Hi, Penny!” he returned. “Ready to go?”

  “Oh, no! Everything is in a dreadful mess here. Lorinda’s mother is very sick. She made a will, and Lorinda started to put it in the safe. Then we were called out of the room by the housekeeper, and when we returned, the paper was gone!”

  “When did that happen, Penny?”

  “Just now.”

  “Then that fellow I chased must have been the thief!”

  “You saw someone take the will, Jerry?”

  “I was sitting in the car,” the reporter related. “A light was on in one of the downstairs rooms, but I was too sleepy to pay much attention. Suddenly though, I saw a man who apparently had been hiding in the shrubbery, rise up and climb through an open window.”

  “A man! Could you see who it was?”

  “No, it was too dark. I jumped out of the car, but before I could cross the yard, the fellow climbed out through the window again, and started off. I called to him. He covered his face and ran. I chased him, but the fellow ducked down a path and I lost him.”

  “He must have stolen the will, Jerry! But how did he know about it, and why would it be of any value to him? Everything is so mixed up!”

  “Maybe we ought to give the police a buzz.”

  Penny nodded. “I’ll see what Lorinda wants to do,” she replied. “Until now, the Rhetts have studiously avoided telling their troubles to the police—in fact, I am afraid Mrs. Rhett hasn’t told everything she knows about her husband’s disappearance.”

  “I’ll wait in the car,” Jerry said.

  Penny let herself into the house again and made her way through the dark living room to the library where a light burned.

  “Lorinda—” she began, only to stop short.

  For it was not Lorinda who stood with her back toward the door, awkwardly turning the dials of the wall safe. Instead, Celeste whirled around, plainly dismayed by the girl’s unexpected appearance in the doorway.

  “Celeste!” Penny said sharply. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” the woman muttered, her mouth sullen.

  “You were trying to get into that safe! Is it the will you want, or are you after the Zudi drum?”

  Penny’s words, shot blindly, struck the target. Celeste’s eyes flashed and she advanced a step toward the girl.

  “You go away from here! Never come back!” she ordered harshly.

  “Sorry, I’m not taking orders from you, Celeste. Why do you hate Lorinda and Mrs. Rhett? What is your little game?”

  Celeste glared at Penny. She drew in her breath and expelled it with a hissing sound through her yellow, crooked teeth. Her hand clutched at an object hidden beneath her uniform and worn around her neck on a dirty cord.

  With no warning, she broke into a jargon which Penny could not understand. But the meaning was clear enough even if the words were unintelligible. Celeste was calling down all manner of evil upon her head!

  “Go!” Celeste cried in English. “You come here again—harm befall you!”

  “Celeste, all your jungle hocus-pocus doesn’t impress me in the least. I’ll leave when I feel in the mood—not before. What were you after in the safe?”

  The woman’s eyes met Penny’s defiantly. She reached out as if to strike her, but at that moment footsteps padded on the stairway. Pushing past Penny, Celeste retreated to the kitchen.

  Lorinda came into the library, gazing about curiously. “Thought I heard voices,” she commented.

  “You did. Celeste was here. Guess what? I found her tampering with the wall safe.”

  “She may have been trying to learn if the Zudi drum was stolen,” Lorinda said absently. “I’m far more worried about the will. What became of it?”

  Penny repeated what Jerry had witnessed, adding:“Obviously the will was taken by the man who climbed through the window. Could it have been Antón?”

  “Antón? Why, I doubt that he even knew about the will, because Mother decided to change it at a moment’s notice. What reason would he have for taking it? Neither he nor Celeste figured in the terms of either document.”

  “It seemed to me Celeste was tremendously interested,”Penny said. “Oh, well, the loss shouldn’t be of serious consequence. Your mother can draw up another will.”

  “That’s exactly what she won’t do. I told her about the will being taken, Penny. She immediately decided it was another omen—a sign that she should leave everything the way it is.”

  “How foolish! Celeste must have put those notions in her head!”

  “I’m sure I don’t know. As for the will, I never did encourage her to change it, because not for a moment do I believe she is sick enough to die. I don’t want Mother’s money. I only want her to get well and strong and be happy again. Penny, you don’t think she is seriously ill?”

  “The doctor said nothing is the matter with her.”

  “Yet we both know something dreadful is wrong.”Lorinda’s finger tips nervously tapped the table edge. “Oh, Penny, I’m scared—terribly scared. I don’t explain it, but I just feel a sinister something in the air!”

  “You shouldn’t be here alone with Celeste and Antón. Why not override them and hire a nurse or companion for your mother?”

  “Maybe I will,” Lorinda agreed. “I’ll think it over until tomorrow.”

  “You’ll report the theft of the will to the police, of course?”

  “No,” Lorinda decided instantly. “They would only ask embarrassing questions.”

  “Why are you so reluctant to take anyone into your confidence?”

  “We’re in enough trouble now, Penny. Please, let’s not talk about it any more until tomorrow.”

  Decidedly puzzled by Lorinda’s attitude, Penny said goodbye and rejoined Jerry in the car. He had seen no more of the mysterious prowler and was convinced the man had fled the estate.

  “Let’s go,” he said, starting the car.

  As the automobile swung down the driveway, Penny peered intently at the roadside shrubbery. The bushes were crashing back and forth in the rising wind, but no one was visible anywhere near the estate. Chilled, she closed the car window.

  “Do you think that hurricane really is heading our way?” she asked her companion.

  “Didn’t see the government report tonight,” Jerry replied. “Probably at the last minute, the storm will veer off and we’ll escape. Riverview never was struck by a hurricane. Too far inland.”

  The car purred smoothly on, following the road which curled toward the beach. Penny became silent. As they turned a corner, Jerry reached out to give her hand a friendly squeeze.

  “Why so quiet, kitten?” he teased.

  “Just thinking, Jerry. There are so many things about the Rhett case I can’t understand.”

  “Why trouble your little brain?”

  “Because this isn’t just an ordinary story to me, Jerry. I like Lorinda, and I feel that unless something is done, her mother may die.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re becoming a superstitious little heathen!”

  “Certainly not! But from what the professor told us, it’s a mistake to underrate the power of suggestion. Mrs. Rhett is in real danger—”

  Penny broke off, listening intently.

  “What was that, Jerry?” she demanded.

  “Didn’t hear anything. Only the wind.”

  “No, I distinctly heard a sound like the throb of a drum!” Penny lowered the car window. “There it is again!”

  This time Jerry, too, heard the sound, far away and indistinct. “You’re right!” he exclaimed, slowing the car. “From down the beach!”

  Penny grasped his arm excitedly. “Stop the car!” she exclaimed. “If we can find the drummer, we may be able to solve part of the mystery!”

  CHAPTER 18

  THROUGH THE WINDOW

>   Jerry slammed on the foot brake and the car came to a jerky halt at the curb. Leaping out, they stood for a moment listening.

  “Don’t hear anything now!” the reporter muttered.

  “Let’s take a gander down the beach,” Penny proposed. “The sound seemed to come from that direction.”

  Hand in hand they cut across a vacant lot where dead weeds came waist high, then followed a sloping path to the beach. The long stretch of sand was deserted.

  “We must have imagined those drums,” Jerry said, pausing. “Or maybe it was the Legion fife and drum corps having a night practice.”

  “It was the beat of a jungle drum.” Penny turned to gaze toward the Rhett mansion on the wooded hillside. All the windows, save one in an upstairs bedroom, now were dark.

  By the light of a three-quarters moon which was rising over the pines, she could see the wooden steps that led from the estate down to the beach. On either side extended tiers of twisted limestone rock. It occurred to Penny that somewhere among the crannies, a cave might be tucked away. She spoke of it to Jerry.

  “Maybe,” he agreed, “but I never heard of one around here.”

  A gust of wind caught Penny’s felt hat, carrying it cartwheeling down the beach. She and Jerry raced in pursuit, colliding as they pounced on it together. They laughed, and as the reporter pulled the hat over Penny’s flying hair, he kissed her quickly on the cheek.

  Then before she could reprimand him, he exclaimed:“Wow! That wind really is getting strong! Let’s get back to the car before we blow away!”

  Penny liked Jerry and she liked the kiss. Best of all, she appreciated his consideration in never forcing serious attentions upon her. With a gay “I’ll race you!” she ran ahead of him to the road.

  Jerry took Penny directly home. Mrs. Weems had gone to bed while Mr. Parker had not returned from downtown.

  “Will you come in and have a cup of chocolate?”Penny invited the reporter.

  “Not tonight, thanks,” he declined. “See you tomorrow at the office.”

  Penny went into the house, and after fixing herself a snack from the refrigerator, switched on the radio to catch the weather report. The news commentator, on a national hookup, warned that the hurricane continued to sweep toward the Atlantic coast, and that inland cities also were endangered.

  “It really sounds serious,” she thought, turning off the radio.

  As she went upstairs, Mrs. Weems called to her in a sleepy voice, so Penny stepped into the housekeeper’s bedroom for a moment.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” Mrs. Weems said. “Is there any news about the approaching storm?”

  “Nothing definite. The latest radio report said it’s still heading this way.”

  “When will it strike?”

  “Late tomorrow unless it veers off. It may be quite serious,” Penny said.

  Mrs. Weems sighed and settled beneath the covers again. “If it isn’t one thing it’s another! First thing in the morning we must get the awning down, and have all the shutters taken off.”

  “If the center of the hurricane should hit here, everything will go,” Penny said cheerfully. “So why worry about shutters?”

  “The storm may be a severe one, but I don’t believe it will strike with hurricane force,” Mrs. Weems insisted. “In any case, the shutters are coming down, and I’ll need your help! So don’t try to skip out in the morning!”

  Penny went to her own room, but before she could undress, she heard her father’s car on the driveway. He came into the house, locked the doors for the night, then climbed the stairs.

  “Hello, Dad!” she called through the half open door of her bedroom. “Any news?”

  “There will be by morning,” he answered grimly. “The Star is coming out with front page headlines warning the city to prepare for the worst!”

  Penny stepped quickly out into the hall.

  “Then Riverview is in the path of the hurricane! Is there danger that the city will be destroyed?”

  “Damage to property is almost certain to be extensive. I’ve just come from a meeting with the mayor and City Council. While there’s an outside chance the city may be spared, it’s folly not to prepare for the full brunt of the storm. The mayor has issued a proclamation declaring an emergency and advising everyone to keep off the streets after noon tomorrow. Most businesses will close.”

  “Then the Star will shut down too?”

  “No. At such a time, folks depend more than ever upon their newspaper for accurate information. We’ll publish as long as we have a plant and our trucks can keep delivering.”

  Mr. Parker’s information brought home to Penny the true seriousness of the situation. However, as she peered out of her bedroom window a few minutes later, the clear sky and bright stars belied an approaching storm.

  Undressed, Penny sat for a time propped up in bed with pillows, trying to read a book. The words held little meaning. Losing interest, she snapped off the light, and snuggled down.

  But she could not sleep. The dark house was filled with many strange sounds. The stairway creaked, the shutters rattled, and in the bathroom, water dripped regularly from a faucet.

  Thoughts raced rampant through Penny’s mind. She squirmed and tossed and became increasingly aware of the rising wind.

  Suddenly she was startled by a loud crash in the yard below. Leaping out of bed, she darted to the window. A large rotten tree limb had been ripped from the backyard maple and now lay across the driveway.

  “Dad will have to move it before he can get the car out of the garage in the morning,” she thought. “Some fun!”

  Creeping back beneath the covers, she tried again to sleep. Instead, she found herself thinking over everything that had occurred at the Rhett mansion. Already the banker’s disappearance was fading out of the newspapers, and with a hurricane in the offing, the story would be entirely forgotten.

  “The police haven’t shown much interest,” she reflected. “Unless definite clues are obtained soon, Mr. Rhett may never be traced. The case will die.”

  Penny thought of the mysterious thatched roof cottage and the whispering voices.

  “Those walls must have a secret panel,” she reasoned. “I believe I might find it if I had an opportunity to make a thorough investigation!”

  A flapping shutter reminded Penny once more of the storm. Then came the discouraging thought that even if only the tail-end of the hurricane struck Riverview, the flimsy thatched cottage undoubtedly would be carried away and destroyed.

  “Unless I get out there tomorrow, I’ll probably lose my chance!” she told herself. “Oh, dear, how will I make it when I have a thousand other things I’m supposed to do?”

  Dancing tree limbs cast weird shadows on the rough plaster wall. Penny closed her eyes, but even then sleep would not come.

  Suddenly the window pane crashed, and glass clattered onto the floor. Startled, Penny sat up and groped for the night table lamp. Her first thought was that a tree branch had hurtled against the pane, breaking it.

  But as the light went on, she saw that only a small hole had been broken in the glass. On the floor, scarcely two feet from the bed, lay a small object wrapped in black cloth.

  Penny rolled out of bed and gingerly picked it up. Carefully and with a feeling of revulsion, she untied the packet.

  Inside were two black feathers, the wing of a bird, herbs which Penny could not identify, a bit of bone, and a small amount of damp earth.

  There was no warning message, nothing to identify the one who had thrown the packet, yet Penny instantly knew its significance and from whence it had come.

  “Either Antón or Celeste hurled it because I’ve cramped their style!” she thought. “Well, their little hex won’t work! I’ll use this evil charm to fashion their own undoing!”

  CHAPTER 19

  RISING WIND

  The sound of crashing glass brought both Mrs. Weems and Mr. Parker to the bedroom. They found Penny standing at the window, the light off, peering do
wn into the yard.

  “What’s coming off here?” Mr. Parker demanded, his voice cross because he had been aroused from sound slumber. “Did something blow against the window?”

  “This was thrown,” Penny revealed, holding up the packet. “Dad, can you see anyone hiding in the shrubbery?”

  Mr. Parker moved to the window, gazing intently about the yard.

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  “Whoever it was, he’s probably gone now.”Penny carefully drew the blinds before snapping on the overhead light. She handed the packet to her father.

  “What’s this, Penny?”

  “It was thrown through the window. I suspect it’s intended as a bad luck omen, and to frighten me. Evidently my work on the Rhett case is not appreciated.”

  “A jungle charm!” exclaimed Mrs. Weems, horrified. “Oh, Penny, I knew no good would come of your having anything to do with that queer family! Here, give that horrid thing to me—I’ll burn it in the furnace.”

  “Not so fast,” chuckled Penny. “I intend to keep it as evidence.”

  “But it may bring you bad luck.”

  “Why, Mrs. Weems, I’m surprised at you,” teased Penny. “Surely you’re not superstitious?”

  “No,” the housekeeper denied, “but from what you’ve told me about those queer Rhett servants, I distrust them. I don’t want you even to touch that ugly package!”

  “These objects aren’t harmful,” Penny insisted, selecting the bit of bone and offering it to Mrs. Weems. “Why attach special significance to them?”

  With a shudder, the housekeeper backed away.

  “Penny is right,” declared Mr. Parker. “The packet is silly and has no meaning unless we build it up in our own minds. That, of course, is exactly what the one who hurled it intends us to do.”

  “Penny mustn’t go to that dreadful place again!”

  “Oh, Mrs. Weems! Don’t you see, that’s just what Antón and Celeste hope to accomplish. If they can keep me away from the mansion merely by throwing one of their stupid charms through my window, their trick has been successful.”

  “I quite agree with Penny,” Mr. Parker declared. “In fact, I may call at the mansion myself! I’ve become interested in Antón and Celeste—they’re a very successful pair of bluffers.”