“Gene Tierney, I think. Anyway, I could name more.”
“Never mind. When are they going to open?”
“Bradley says there’s lots of cleaning up needing doing. The place has been shut down going on three months, and you know it’s been broken into at least twice.”
“I hope they paint that gosh-awful red bar.” Mary Lynn held out her cup for a refill.
Penelope poured herself a cup, too. “Poor old Roger.” She sat down across from her friend and hesitated between the oversized blueberry muffin top and half a peach kolache.
“He got what he asked for, didn’t he?”
“We’ll never know for sure, I guess, but a little recreational pot wasn’t worth getting burned up for.”
“If that’s all he was buying, but like you said, we’ll never know for sure. If you ask me, though, they all need to be behind bars. The drug dealers, I mean.”
“You’ve got to catch them first.”
“Including that lothario who waltzed you and Shana out of town and ran you around like a couple of model cars.”
“I don’t think he was a drug dealer.”
“So what was he?”
“I don’t know.” But I wish I did. Penelope hurried to change the subject. “So tell me how things are going out at the old school.”
Mary Lynn wrinkled her nose. “It’s already damp and chilly inside that old place. And later on it’s going to be colder than a you-know-what in a you-know-what.”
Penelope smiled. “I know what.”
“I had some guy fill up the fuel tank. It wasn’t cheap, by the way, and now the boiler won’t come on. I’m going to need some heat upstairs soon if I’m going to get anything done.”
“What are you trying to get done first?”
“Just clean up that big room at the front. With the light from those tall windows, it’ll be perfect for quilting and crafting.
“So what are you going to do for heat if the boiler won’t work?”
“I’m trying to find somebody up in Little Rock who knows how to work on one, but I’m not having any luck. So I guess I’ll either freeze or stop work after Christmas.”
“Harry would prefer option number two.”
Mary Lynn grinned. “Yeah. Did you hear Abigail Talbot has resigned?”
“No! Bradley didn’t say a word about it last night.”
“And guess what else? The library board is trying to get Shana Bayliss to come back.”
“She’ll never come back here.”
“Want to make a bet?” Mary Lynn narrowed her eyes.
“Why would she, with all the wagging tongues that would be only too happy to dredge up what happened with Travis?”
“Maybe for that reason.” Mary Lynn lifted her eyebrows in her ‘I know’ look.
“Huh?”
“You can’t run away from things.” Mary Lynn nodded agreement with her own statement. “Besides, there’s Bradley.”
“No, there’s not.”
“You don’t think he’d take her back?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Just take my word for it, Mary Lynn, he’s done with her. Anyway, getting back to the school, you’ll need some long tables for that room.”
“Right. I went poking around in one of the storage areas, hoping something like that got left behind when they moved over to the new school, but I came up empty.” She frowned. “And something odd happened while I was in there. Promise you won’t laugh.”
Penelope made an exaggerated X on her chest. “Not if it’s not funny.”
“It’s not funny. When I was in the storage room, I thought I heard something.”
“Mice.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but it was someone talking.”
“Not the mice, huh? Ghosts?”
Mary Lynn shivered. “Every time I go in that place, I get the feeling I’m not alone.”
“Maybe you’re not.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“No, honestly. Lots of kids spend a good part of their childhood in that building. Maybe some of them didn’t want to leave.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts, and you don’t either. You shouldn’t anyway.”
Penelope licked some peach filling from her fingers. “Where were the voices coming from?”
“I don’t know. But they’re not going to run me off. I intend to get that old place in tip-top shape. There’s so much potential for community activities. I don’t know why someone hasn’t thought of it before.”
“Whatever. You know I’ll help you.”
“I’m counting on that. Mainly I’m just cleaning up right now, and then I’ll paint.”
“What about the plumbing? You know all those little ladies will have to go piddle two dozen times a morning while they’re quilting, especially if you keep the coffee going.”
“I thought I’d dig up the old privy.”
“Ha ha. Was there one?”
“The place was built in 1880, so I’m betting there were his and hers somewhere.”
“Seriously?”
“No, I didn’t go out looking for latrines! The bathrooms aren’t bad. I checked with city hall, and the plumbing was installed around 1920. Bob Nance said I’d have to get an inspector out there to see if it’s still tied into the city lines or on a septic tank.” Mary Lynn studied her friend’s face. “I’m worried about you, Pen.”
“I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not. It’s been almost five months, and that spark still isn’t back.”
“What spark?”
“That go-get-‘em-I-can-do-it spark. The one that made you turn this place into a B&B. And before that, the one that made you go back to nursing school when Bradley started first grade. And leave Travis.”
“Survival.”
“No. If you ask me…”
“I didn’t.”
“If you ask me, that Sam person is behind all this. Did you maybe get the hots for him?”
Penelope jumped up. “No, and if I did, it’s none of your business.” She took their cups to the sink and rinsed them.
“You did. I knew it. Listen, I’m your best friend. Tell me about him.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“What did he look like?”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped, as she leaned against the cabinet. From the window she almost could see him striding down the path to the garage the morning after the first night he’d spent in the front room. The night she’d patched the cut above his eyebrow and said it would leave a scar, and it had. Shoulders like a weight-lifter, hips like a jockey. She’d blushed then, and she blushed now. “He’s nice looking,” she said finally. “He looks older than he is, which is forty-eight if I can believe anything he says. Hair more salt than pepper, blue eyes, six feet something.”
“A hunk?”
“Stop it, Mary Lynn. He used to teach medieval literature somewhere back east.”
“Oh, my stars, an intellectual.”
“Sometimes I hated him, and sometimes I…” Penelope’s voice trailed off. “I wish I’d never laid eyes on him.”
“I wish you hadn’t either. I don’t like what I’m seeing. You need some new interests, Pen.”
“Like what?”
“Well, helping me with the school for one.”
“I told you I would, but I’m not freezing my tookus off out there.”
“I’ll get the boiler working, I promise.” Mary Lynn snatched up the zebra-striped bag she carried everywhere in every season. “Travis Pembroke was a rotten rounder. You don’t need to go for number two.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Harry’s bald and got a paunch, and some people think he’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he loves me.” Mary Lynn bit her lip. “And I love him more than anything in the world. It’s just the two of us, but we’re enough for each other.”
“Harry’s a good man. He’s the reason this town is st
ill alive.”
“Next to me, he loves Amaryllis best. It’s his home.” Mary Lynn put her hand on the doorknob. “Think about doing something, Pen. Anything to get you out from under this big black cloud.”
Penelope nodded. “Sure. And let me know when you want me to bring my arsenal of cleaning supplies and pitch in.”
She waited until Mary Lynn’s car backed out of the drive before she poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down to nurse it. Do something. Anything. Easier said than done. I do enough. I run this place, look after Daddy…well, maybe he looks after me as much as I do him, but it’s a full time job for both of us.
She glanced at the calendar from Roan’s Feed Store. Jake always insisted on hanging it in the kitchen because he liked the pictures of the horses and cattle. Just a little over a month until Christmas. I haven’t even started my Christmas shopping. I could do that. Go over to Little Rock and spend a day or so. I’ll stay in a hotel and shop by day and party by night.
Party. I’ll have a Christmas party. Lord knows we all need something to get us in the holiday spirit, even Bradley. He’s weighed down with making decisions about Pembroke Point, and now Abigail’s going. But good riddance. She wasn’t the girl for him, and neither is Shana. I wonder if Shana’s really coming back. It would be nice. We got kind of close while we were on the run. I sort of thought of her as almost a real daughter instead of a pretend one.
“Whatcha doin’, Nellie?”
“Hi, Daddy. You been uptown?”
“Yep.”
“Find out what you wanted to know?”
He grinned.
“I’m a pretty good detective. Maybe Brad got it from me. When’s lunch?”
“You just ate breakfast two hours ago, Daddy, and I’ll bet you and the Toney Twins cleaned up a dozen doughnuts with your coffee.”
“Anymore coffee then?”
“In the pot. So what did you find out?”
Jake sat down and wrapped his hands around his favorite mug, the one with the English setters on the front. It had been a Christmas gift from his grandson the first year Bradley was allowed to shop by himself at the variety store. “Marion Dancer, better known as Mike, and his wife Millie roared up to the Daisy Café on a Harley.”
“Bikers? They’re bikers?”
Jake’s grin almost split his face. “Been all over the United States and Canada on that thing.”
“Oh, tourists.”
“Well, not Hell’s Angels, that’s for sure.”
“Daddy.”
“You implied it, Nellie.”
“I did not.”
“Anyway, they’re good people.”
“Then I’ll invite them to my Christmas party.”
“You’re going to give a Christmas party?”
“I’m going to give one wing-ding of a party, Daddy.” Penelope got up. “I’m going upstairs right now and start digging out the Christmas decorations.”
****
That night, satisfied with the vision of neatly-stacked boxes of Christmas decorations lining the hallway, Penelope fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The insistent ringing of the phone by her bed jerked her from dreams of unpacking those old, well-loved decorations with two grandchildren, a boy who looked like Bradley, and a girl who looked like Officer Rosabel Deane.
“What?” she barked into the phone.
“Hello there.”
Her stomach knotted. “Sam? Where are you?”
“Just ask me how I am, and leave it at that.”
She struggled to sit up. “All right, how are you?”
“Good. How about you?”
“I was asleep.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You’re probably doing time somewhere and picked the lock of the warden’s office to make this call.”
He chuckled. “How’s the knee? And those poor scarred feet?”
“You remember those. How nice. It’s been almost five months. I might’ve had both of them amputated by now.”
“Did you get a tetanus booster?”
“Yes. Where are you, Sam, or whoever you are?”
“Far, far away. So you’re in bed. I couldn’t get you there, but I can think about you there.”
“Stop it, Sam. That’s indecent.”
“Come on, Penelope, we’re both adults. It’s not like we haven’t both been around the block before.”
“In your case, according to you, several times.”
“Be nice.”
“I’m being nice. You’re the one thinking lecherous thoughts.”
“Look, the reason I called—outside of the lecherous thoughts, of course—was to give you some advice. Or rather, to give your friend Mary Lynn a little free advice.”
“How do you know Mary Lynn?” Silence. “Never mind, you know things.”
“Right. I heard she was renovating that old school near the cemetery.”
“That’s right.”
“She might want to back off a while.”
“Why?”
“It would be a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Just take my word for it.”
Penelope didn’t like the way his voice was making her tingle. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“I can’t. But if she won’t call a halt, then you stay away from there.”
“I promised to help her.”
“It can wait.”
“Sam…”
“I’ve got to go, Penelope.” He hung up.
She slid back down in bed, hugging the quilt to her chin. Of all the nerve! Take his word for it, my foot. But then, he does seem to know things, like he says. You’re a blessed nuisance, Sam. I wish I’d never laid eyes on you. I wish you’d never touched me… She shivered, and her bed felt suddenly emptier than it ever had before.
CHAPTER THREE
“I really missed you.” Shana Bayliss, sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the middle of the bed and breakfast parlor, handed Penelope a string of lights she’d just untangled.
“I missed you, too, you little twit.”
Shana giggled. “So instead of killing the fatted calf for my return, you put me straight to work.”
“This party isn’t going to give itself. How are things at the library?”
“Abigail Talbot left things in perfect order.”
“Figures.”
“She knew her job and did it, Penelope.”
“You know your job, too, and you’ll do it better.”
“A lot of people have come by to say hello and welcome back. Or maybe just to see if I’m wearing the scarlet letter.”
“That’s over.”
“That’s part of why I came back, just to prove I could face my mistakes.”
“Good for you.”
“Brad came by.”
“Really?”
“I wrote you we had a good talk when he drove me to the airport. An honest talk. We’re going to be friends. That’s all we ever were anyway. I even hinted around that Rosabel Deane wouldn’t turn down an invitation from him.”
“I like Rosabel.”
“Me, too. And she and Brad have a lot in common, being in law enforcement and all.”
“I wouldn’t have liked ending up with Abigail Talbot as a daughter-in-law.”
“I don’t think there was much chance of that.”
“Did Bradley say that?”
“I got that impression. Anyway, things are okay between us, and we’re both moving on.”
“He’s still got issues with his father.”
“He’s had those for a long time.”
“At least Travis’s name got cleared, even after all the negative news reports. One of the Little Rock stations did a nice feature on him and on Pembroke Point. I think Bradley will be happier when he decides what to do with it. He can’t run a cotton farm and be a police detective, too. He never wanted to run it anyway. Going into law enforcement wasn’t just an act of rebellion against his father. I m
ean, he loves the place, but he doesn’t want to bury himself on it. Daddy suggested he hire a live-in manager.”
“So tell me more about what your friend is doing at the old school. I used to drive by there sometimes and think it looked like an interesting old place.” Shana finished untangling another string of lights and handed them over.
“She wants to turn it into a community center. The whole story is, Jessie Ruth Collier left it to the city with the proviso it couldn’t ever be sold.”
“She’s the one who founded the library, right?”
“Right, Collier Memorial, and also a descendant of Jeremiah Bowden who built the school after he started the town of Amaryllis. When we were having such a tough time after Tobin Textiles pulled out, taxes and insurance on that building were a real pain in the neck, but there was nothing the town could do about it.”
“So now Mrs. Hargrove wants to use it for something. I think that’s nice.”
Penelope sat down facing Shana. “I’m going to tell you something, and I’ll cut your tongue out if you ever repeat it.”
“I don’t think threats scare me anymore.”
“I don’t think they scare me either, but...”
“Okay, okay, get on with it.”
“Sam called the other night and…”
“The Gray Ghost? I thought he was locked up somewhere.”
“Why’d you call him the Gray Ghost? I bet you don’t even know who that was.”
“Sure I do. Even Yankees study history. Colonel John S. Mosby, CSA. Quite a dashing figure, I hear.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Sam’s like a ghost, always coming and going without really being seen. And we don’t really know who or what he is. It’s not black or white, just sort of gray.”
“I guess that’s as good a description as any. And I’ve always thought there was a possibility he ended up in the clink after he left here. Anyway, he knew about what Mary Lynn was planning to do and said she should back off for a while. Called it a little free advice.”
“That’s spooky.”
“He’s spooky, if you ask me.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Not yet.”
“Any idea of why he said she shouldn’t go ahead?”
“Not a single one. And of course, he wouldn’t explain. He never explains anything.”
“Just expects you to trust him.”
The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) Page 2