The Possum Hollow Hullabaloo (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series)

by Nickles, Judy

“I never heard of any silver mines in Arkansas.”

  “Not mines exactly—treasures hidden by early travelers in the area. You could find out a lot in Little Rock at the archives, I’ll bet.”

  “I haven’t been there in a while. I was finding out more than I wanted to know. So, there were stories about silver out around Possum Hollow?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it in years.”

  “That would explain the dynamite. Somebody was looking for silver again.”

  “That’s pretty far-fetched, Nellie.”

  “Everything that’s happened out there is pretty far-fetched.”

  “I agree with that. I guess somebody could’ve heard about buried treasure and decided to go looking. But using explosives…that’s another story. During the war there were demolition squads, but I wasn’t in one, and I wouldn’t have touched anything that might blow up, not on a bet.”

  “I just wonder if somebody really is hunting buried treasure, and outsiders like those of us at the school are considered to be in the way.”

  “It’s a thought.”

  “I hope nobody decides to blow up the school while we’re on vacation.”

  “That’d be a real shame.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I’d heard about mining but not so-called buried treasure,” Bradley told his mother when she brought up the idea at supper that night. “Actually, Sam suggested the idea, and I looked into it.”

  “Where? How did you look into it?”

  “I checked with the state archives yesterday. There was a mining company out there, all right, but it wasn’t looking for silver. They wanted some other obscure mineral and never found enough to make their operation worthwhile. Meanwhile, some of the men they’d brought in heard the stories of a buried treasure and stayed behind to look for it.”

  Penelope’s mouth tightened. “Sam knew it all along.”

  Rosabel reached for the salt. “He knows things all right.”

  “So I’m guessing now other people are looking for the buried treasure and using dynamite to do it. They’ll blow themselves and half the Hollow to kingdom come,” Penelope said.

  “Maybe not. The dynamite in the hall closet was really old,” Bradley said. “Whoever left it here probably found it somewhere. I doubt if whoever put it in the closet even knows he has to have blasting caps to set it off remotely.”

  “But he put it there. Sam says maybe he’s trying to scare me off from testifying against Archie.”

  “This is getting to be better than a whodunit on television,” Jake said, folding his napkin. “But I’m missing my favorite one, so if you’ll excuse me…”

  “Sure, Pawpaw, go ahead.”

  Sam came in just as Jake exited the kitchen.

  “You’re a weasel,” Penelope said, glaring at him. “A flat-out weasel.”

  Sam put up his hands. “What did I do now?”

  “Mining,” Bradley mumbled.

  “You knew all about it. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  Sam grinned. “Then you wouldn’t have had the fun of finding it out for yourself. Is there any supper left?”

  “On the stove,” Penelope snapped. “You can get it yourself.”

  ****

  Penelope shelved her irritation enough to sit with Sam in the parlor later than evening. “Okay, you made me find out about the mining, but I don’t see what that has to do with what’s going on out there now. I mean, if somebody’s dumb enough to go blowing holes all over the place looking for buried treasure…”

  “Did you ever consider he might’ve found it?”

  “Absolutely not. There’ve got to have been hundreds of people searching for the last hundred and fifty years. If none of them found it, nobody’s going to find it at this late date.”

  “You never can tell.”

  Penelope jerked upright. “Now what do you know that you aren’t telling me?”

  “Not much.” Sam pulled her down against his shoulder again and kissed her forehead. “I hear the state police are going door-to-door in the Hollow.”

  Penelope tried to sit up again, but Sam restrained her. “Bradley didn’t say a word at supper.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t, would he?”

  “I’m glad he’s not out there.”

  “It’s not the place to be right now.”

  “They won’t find anybody who doesn’t want to be found,” Penelope said, closing her eyes to savor the feel of Sam’s lips slipping from her temple to her jawbone. “They’ll hole up back in a cave somewhere back in those woods. They won’t find who came in here and then nearly ran me off the road and planted the dynamite.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  “I guess they could use dogs.”

  “I guess they could.”

  “So that’s what they’re doing.”

  Sam blew on her neck. “Aren’t you tired of talking about Possum Hollow?”

  “Don’t do that,” Penelope said, the too-familiar tingle setting off the struggle between what she wanted and what she knew was wrong. “Please, Sam.”

  “You like it.”

  “I like it too much.”

  “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

  “And I’ll be busy as a cranberry merchant all day.”

  “I’ll be around to help.”

  “That’s a novel idea. I wonder how you’d look in an apron?”

  He chuckled. “An apron and nothing else?”

  “Sam, stop it!” She giggled. “You’re blessed bad!” She ran her hand inside his flannel shirt and met a t-shirt instead of the warm flesh she expected.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Nothing.”

  He was kissing her for the fourth time when the wail of sirens split the silence of the Sunday night.

  ****

  Penelope supposed that Sam operated on pre-programmed instinct, because by the time she figured out the blaring vehicles were heading toward Possum Hollow, he’d sprung from the sofa—leaving her in a heap on the floor—and disappeared. She put herself back together before she went into the kitchen where Jake stood by the back door.

  “What’s going on, Daddy?”

  “Blamed if I know, darlin’. Sam came barreling through the dining room door, grabbed his jacket, and nearly knocked me down getting out the door.”

  Penelope’s cheeks burned as she wondered what would’ve happened next if they hadn’t been interrupted. Sam was getting good at weakening her defenses. “Sounds like they’re headed for the Hollow.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s where they’re going.”

  “Sam said he heard the state police were going door-to-door out there tonight.”

  “He heard that, did he?”

  “Oh, Daddy, I wish I knew who he really is.”

  “I reckon Brad knows.”

  “You think?”

  “Yep. I also think it may be a long night. How about some hot chocolate?”

  “Sure.” She went into the pantry and found the cocoa. As she emerged, the phone blared.

  “Pen, it’s me,” Mary Lynn said. “Have you heard about the Hollow?”

  “Something’s going on out there, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “Harry got a call about five, giving him the heads up that the state police would be out in the Hollow tonight. Then he got another call about half an hour ago from Brad, who told him things were popping.”

  “Oh, no, Bradley’s not out there, is he?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but he’s in the loop. I’m not sure why he called Harry, except maybe he thought the mayor needed to know what was going on. Anyway, he just said things were happening, and he’d be in touch.”

  “We heard the sirens. Sam flew out of here like a bat out of hell.”

  “Nellie,” Jake murmured disapprovingly.

  “Well, he did. I’m making cocoa. Why don’t you and Harry come over here, and we’ll wait it out together?”

  “W
e’re already in our pajamas.”

  “Well, put on robes. Tell Harry I won’t ogle his sexy body.”

  “Nellie!” Jake’s mouth twitched.

  “Oh, Daddy, I’ve seen Harry in his basketball uniform when he was a few pounds lighter. His pajamas cover more than that did.” She spoke into the phone again. “So are you coming?”

  “Sure, I guess so. Wait a minute. Harry wants to know if you’ve got any cheesecake.”

  “I’ve got half of one in the freezer. I’ll nuke it.”

  “Okay, give us five minutes then.”

  Penelope hung up and rummaged in the freezer for the cheesecake. “There you are, you bad boy,” she muttered as she seized it and began to remove the plastic wrap.

  ****

  Jake had gone to bed just after eleven, but Penelope and the Hargroves were still sitting at the kitchen table when Sam came in. “Isn’t it a little late for a party?” he asked, shrugging out of his corduroy hoodie.

  “What happened?” Penelope got up and filled a mug of cocoa for him. “Want some cheesecake?”

  “Bribing me for information, huh?” He nodded at Harry and Mary Lynn. “Mayor.”

  Harry nodded back. “Time we went home, peach pie,” he said, hefting his bulk from the chair. “Thanks for the goodies, Pen.”

  “The usual time here tomorrow night and then midnight Mass?” Mary Lynn asked.

  “Right.”

  “I’ll bring our stuff when we come. I hear Rosabel’s making a Lebanese dish.”

  “Her mother is going to talk her through it on the phone tomorrow. She’s pretty excited.”

  “Too bad her parents couldn’t get away and come out here.”

  “Yes, it is. I like them.”

  “Come on, pumpkin,” Harry urged from the door. “I may have to go in to the office for a while tomorrow morning if anything big happened tonight.”

  Sam caught his eye. “Count on it.”

  When the Hargroves had gone, Sam and Penelope sat across the table from each other, their untouched cocoa sending wisps of steam into the silence. “So,” Penelope said, “what’s going on, and why did you fly out of here like a bat out of you know where?”

  “Is that what I did?”

  “You dumped me on the floor.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I can make up for it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he lifted the mug to his mouth.

  “I’ll just bet you can.”

  “As for what’s going on, you know I can’t tell you.”

  “That’s downright mean!”

  “If I were you, I’d feel the same way.” Sam reached for her hand. “If I told you it was all over—all but the shouting—would it make you have a merrier Christmas?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Merry Christmas.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She stood up. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  “I meant what I said about helping you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you. We just have a buffet before midnight Mass. It’ll be the Hargroves and Brad and Rosabel this year. Shana’s already in Little Rock with Peter and Tabby, and the Dancers decided to visit his brother in Missouri.”

  “Closed down the Sit-n-Swill? What will the bikers do?”

  “Take their beer down to Short Creek and sit under the bridge, I guess.” She studied his face briefly. “Although I’m betting the bikers you rounded up have families to be with.”

  “Some of them.”

  “And you’ll be with me…with us.” Penelope started for the swinging door.

  Sam’s blue eyes stopped her from going through. “I’ll be with you, Nell,” he said, a soft weariness in his voice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “I made a fire in the living room,” Sam said to Penelope as he watched her light the candles on the antique buffet where several polished chafing dishes caught the flicker of the flame and added to the soft glow of the room.

  “Did you put up the fire screen?”

  “Yes. It looks nice in here, Nell. Cozy. And there’s enough food to feed an army.”

  “Wait until Mary Lynn and Harry get here with their haul. And Rosabel and Bradley.” She put the box of matches back in the drawer. “Rosabel said they’d be a little late because Bradley had something he had to do. Hopefully he’s checking to make sure Archie Hadden is locked up good and tight where Santa won’t find him.”

  “How do you know he’s locked up at all?”

  “Because you said it was over, so he’s either locked up or dead.” She shook her head. “God forgive me for not minding the latter.”

  “I can tell you this much, because it’ll be in the papers tomorrow or the next day. The state police saved the school by a whisker.”

  “You’re joking! Tell me no one tried to blow up the school!”

  Sam nodded. “They brought in some bomb-sniffing dogs who found it, and this time it was the real thing.”

  Penelope sagged against the buffet. “Whoever did it wasn’t looking for buried treasure under the school, I guess.”

  “Nope.”

  “Anything else that needs bringing in from the kitchen?”

  “No, it’s all in here.”

  “Then come in the living room with me for a minute.” He held out his hand. They paused under the mistletoe between the pocket doors of the living room and shared a brief kiss, then a longer one. “I want to give you your Christmas gift from me now while we’re alone.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “You knew I would.”

  “I guess I did.”

  “Close your eyes, and hold out both hands.”

  Penelope did both, then closed her fingers around a small box. A jeweler’s box. A ring? Surely not. He’s never even said he loves me.

  “You can open your eyes now.”

  She looked at the small box, wrapped in some of the red paper she’d used for Bradley’s and Rosabel’s gifts. “Sam, I…”

  “Just open it.”

  Her hands shook as she untied the ribbon and peeled away the paper, revealing not a ring case but a box bearing the name of a jewelry store in Little Rock. When she fumbled with the lid, Sam lifted it off, pushed aside the layer of cotton, and took out a flat silver heart etched with something she couldn’t read.

  “It’s beautiful, Sam,” she murmured.

  He picked it up. “Mae hyn yn fy annwyl.” He showed her the inscription. “It’s Welsh.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He took her hand and led her to the sofa. “First let me tell you a story. Do you know who St. Dwynwen is?”

  “I’ve never heard of him.”

  “Her. She lived in Wales in the 5th century. According to some sources, she was the daughter of a king who forbade her to marry the man she loved. Other sources say the man betrayed her. Whichever happened, she never married and became a nun, but because she prayed for God to give happiness to all lovers, she—not St. Valentine—is the patron saint of lovers.”

  Penelope’s eyes blurred with tears. She wondered if Sam could see her heart beating beneath her red sweater. “That’s a beautiful story, but I still don’t know what the inscription says.”

  Sam fastened the thin chain around her neck. “The inscription is Welsh, and it’s from the Song of Solomon. Mae hyn yn fy annwyl means ‘This is my beloved.’”

  Her tears spilled over. “Oh, Sam.”

  He tipped her chin and extracted a handkerchief to blot her cheeks. “It’s a promise, Nell, the only one I can make right now.”

  She laid her forehead against his chest and felt him rest his chin on her hair. “It’s enough. It really is.”

  ****

  When they heard the Hargroves in the kitchen, Sam tucked the necklace under Penelope’s sweater. “Just for a while,” he said.

  She nodded. “Right. I don’t want to share this, not now.”
<
br />   “Someday, Nell.”

  She smiled. “Someday.”

  Sam followed Harry as he carried a silver platter of ham into the dining room and wedged it between two of the chafing dishes on the buffet. “Have you heard the latest?”

  “I know the story,” Sam replied.

  “Bradley’s going to be late,” Penelope said.

  Harry nodded. “Probably just some last minute details to tend to.”

  Harry took out a red and green plaid handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “You couldn’t pay me to do what Brad does.” He cut his eyes over to Sam. “Or you either.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Heck, I don’t know and probably don’t want to.” Harry chuckled and pocketed the garish accessory.

  Jake joined them in the living room and took Penelope and Mary Lynn by turn under the mistletoe for a quick peck on the cheek. “These two nearly drove Wynne and me out of our minds when they were in high school,” he said to Sam. “In and out, up and down, slumber parties all over this parlor…they were a pair, they were.”

  Sam tucked a stray strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear. “I’ll bet they were.”

  “What’s taking Brad and Rosabel so long?” Mary Lynn asked as the clock struck eight. “I’m hungry, and we’ve still got gifts to open.”

  On cue, they heard the back door open. “We’re here,” Rosabel called. “Sorry we’re so late, but we ran into Santa Claus on the way over.”

  Mary Lynn and Penelope exchanged looks and shrugged.

  “Bring your dish into the dining room,” Penelope called. “Do you need any help?”

  “I think I have all the hands I need.”

  “Santa asked us to deliver some gifts,” Brad called.

  Penelope frowned. “Rosabel brought your gifts this morning and put them under the tree.”

  “Everybody ready?” Brad called.

  “We were ready an hour ago,” Harry hollered. “At this rate, it’ll be Christmas morning before we get through with everything.”

  Penelope thought she heard soft giggles, and then she was sure she recognized the sound of children’s feet. She’d half risen from the sofa when Ellie and Evie, wearing the identical red velvet dresses Mary Lynn had sent up by Tonya Cisneros, appeared in the foyer. They hesitated, suddenly shy.

  “Oh, thank You, God,” Penelope murmured.