“I’m fine, Daddy.”
Sam took her arm and edged her toward a chair. “Sit.”
“Nellie, you look terrible.”
“Thanks a lot, Daddy.”
He set the whiskey on the table and bent over her. “What’s wrong, honeychild?”
“Nothing, Daddy. I just had a little accident, that’s all.”
“Accident?” Sam’s eyebrows went up.
“Fred has my car down at his shop, just to check it out. He says it looks okay.”
Sam uncapped the Scotch and added some to his glass and Jake’s, then held it out to Penelope. She shook her head. “Just a cola. When did you start keeping liquor, Daddy?”
“That’s between me and Cole at the package store. We’re talking about you right now.”
Sam brought her a soda from the refrigerator. “So tell us about the little accident, Nell.”
She shook her head. “You’ll just get mad. Bradley sure is.”
“He knows about it?” Jake asked.
“He brought me home from the clinic.”
“The clinic!” Jakes forehead furrowed. “You’re hurt?”
“Just shaken up a little. I ended up in Bailey’s cornfield. I guess I’ll have to offer to pay him for a couple of rows.”
“Bailey’s place—the one out toward the Hollow?”
Penelope sipped her drink and nodded.
“Nellie, what were you doing out there?”
Sam leaned across the table. “What in hell were you doing out that way after I told you to stay away?”
Jake sucked in his breath.
“Don’t yell at me,” Penelope flared. “This is my kitchen after all.”
“I ought to take you across my knee and…”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Jake put a hand on each of their arms. “Just simmer down, both of you. Nellie, I’d like to know what’s going on, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s your business.”
Penelope cast a triumphant glance in Sam’s direction. He glared back.
“Thank you, Daddy. Shana might be coming for supper tonight. I’d rather not mention this to her.”
Jake patted her. “No, no, we won’t.”
“I think I’ll go upstairs and soak awhile.” She got to her feet, swayed, and plopped down in the chair again.
Jake frowned. “Maybe you ought to just go lie down. I’ll walk upstairs with you.”
“I’ll go with her, Mr. Kelley.” Sam came around the table and helped Penelope to her feet. “I think we need to have a talk.”
“Mind your manners, Sam,” Jake said, his mouth twitching. “And be a gentleman. I’ve still got my shotgun.”
****
Sam parked himself on the bench from Penelope’s dressing table outside the bathroom door. “You all right in there?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t lock the door, did you?”
“Of course, I…no, I didn’t lock the door, but don’t you dare come in here.”
He laughed. “You’re safe—if you tell me the truth.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Then I’ll come in and dunk you until you come clean—and I don’t mean your tempting little body.”
“I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Come on, Nell, tell all.”
After a few minutes, as the hot water eased her tension, she did, starting with the conversation at the antique store. “And before you ask, I don’t know what made me follow Harvey Hadden, and no, I won’t do it again.”
“I have to say you got what you deserved.”
“You really care, don’t you?” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
“I care, Nell, more than you’ll ever know. So you think Harvey’s after something, do you?”
“It was just an idea.”
“You could be right.”
“I could?”
“Let me think about it.”
“While you’re thinking, here’s something else to mull over.” She told him about Peter’s in-laws. “And the judge is a big advocate of grandparents’ rights.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll award them custody of Tabby.”
“You said Peter knows what he needs to know.”
“He does, and I’m sure he’s got plenty of character witnesses.”
“I expect he does.”
“He should fight fire with fire?”
“I would if it were me.”
“Shana’s even thinking about quitting her job and going back to Ohio.”
“That would be an admission of guilt.”
“Well, she did have an affair with Travis Pembroke.”
“You don’t hold that against her.”
“No, she was dumb, just like I was, but she’s smartened up.”
“Like you did.”
“That’s right.”
“Tell her not to do anything hasty.”
“Tell her yourself if she comes over tonight.”
“Why don’t you call Peter Taliaferro and invite him, too? Maybe I could give him some ideas.”
“You’d do that?”
“Tabby deserves an end to all this.”
“You’re all right, Sam-whoever-you-are. Sometimes I actually like you.”
Penelope listened for his reply but heard only a soft click as her bedroom door closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I still think I should leave,” Shana said.
Before Peter could say anything, Sam shook his head. “That would be the worst thing you could do. They don’t care whether Peter has a relationship with you or not. They want their granddaughter, and if they can use you to get her, they will. Running off will just prove their point—that you aren’t good for Tabby.”
“But…”
“I mean it, Shana.”
She looked away.
“I have a good attorney,” Peter said.
“And you’ve told him everything, right?” Sam’s eyes locked with Peter’s.
“Right.”
“And you have witnesses to back you up?”
“He says it’s hearsay.”
“Would somebody like to tell me what all this means?” Penelope asked.
Sam shook his head. “Nope.”
Penelope glanced at Shana, who shrugged. “I don’t know either.
“I don’t guess you’d talk to my attorney before the hearing…give him some ideas…”
Sam shook his head. “No can do, Peter. This is my best shot.”
Peter didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Then, “Okay, thanks, Sam.”
“But if I turn up anything else, I’ll let you know.”
****
After Peter and Shana left, Sam suggested a walk. “I’m already getting sore,” Penelope said.
“It’ll help to keep moving.”
“That’s easy for you to say. How far are we going?”
“Just downtown.”
She narrowed her eyes. “To the old feed store?”
He grinned. “Bingo.”
“I’m not going to be an accessory to breaking and entering.”
“Aw, Nell, live a little.”
“That’s just it—I have to live here. You don’t.”
They kept to the sidewalk until they’d passed the library. “Dead,” Sam said cheerfully. “Just like I thought.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“I told you I liked this town. Our target is straight ahead.”
“Sam, I’m not going to do this.”
He grabbed her hand and dashed across the deserted street, keeping to the edge of the light from the lone streetlamp on the corner. At the back of the building, he placed her against the brick wall. “Made it.”
“Thanks for hauling me like a sack of potatoes when I’m already sore.”
His face fell. “I forgot. Sorry. I’ll give you a good rub-down when we get home.”
“Ha!”
“Let’s go.”
“Probably backed the truck up and put the ramp right on the porch.”
“Oh.”
He took something out of his pocket and inserted it into the ancient lock. “Got it.”
“I’m not going in,” Penelope said, but before she finished speaking, she was inside. A musty smell pervaded the darkness.
“This way,” Sam said.
“I forgot you’ve done this before.”
“Right. Come on. Upstairs.”
“I can’t see a thing. I’ll break my neck.”
He reached into his hip pocket and took out a pencil-thin flashlight. “Better?”
“You carry the tools of your criminal trade with you, huh?”
“What self-respecting crook doesn’t?”
The narrow wooden stairs groaned beneath their feet. Penelope, panic building inside her, clutched Sam’s hand as they climbed. “Bradley will kill me,” she whispered.
“Bradley won’t know,” Sam retorted. “And you don’t have to whisper—there’s nobody here but us.”
“You’re sure of that, are you?”
“Positive.”
Without warning, a shriek sent them against the wall, and then a large, dark body barreled past them on the way down.
****
“That was Harvey Hadden,” Penelope said when she got her breath back.
“Are you sure?”
“From the Possum Hollow smell, yes. Are you going after him?”
“I’m not the law in this town. But I’m going to see what he was doing upstairs. Stay here.”
“By myself? In the dark?”
“You heard the door slam,” Sam said. “He’s gone.”
“He might be back.”
“Not as long as we’re in here. Just sit down on the step and be quiet.”
Penelope heard him take the four remaining steps and walk down the hall, opening doors, and presumably looking inside each room. She counted three doors opened and closed, and waited for the fourth. It stayed open.
“Sam?” She called upwards through the dark. “Sam?”
“I’m coming down,” he said. As he reached her, he took her arm. “Let’s go.”
“What did you find up there?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Oh, no, not another body. Please don’t tell me someone else has been murdered.”
“I won’t tell you.”
He hurried her along the street until the lights of the B&B shone through the trees. “You’re all right from here. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
He hesitated. “When you get inside, call Brad’s cell phone and say ‘under the radar’, then hang up.”
“Under the radar?”
“Just do it, Nell.”
Before she could ask more questions, he’d disappeared.
****
After she did as Sam said, she went upstairs to her room but didn’t undress. An hour later, when she heard him in the hall, she opened her door. “Sam?”
“I’m back.”
“What’s going on?”
“You’ll hear about it, probably tomorrow.”
“I’d rather hear it from you tonight.”
He blew out his breath. “Nell, I can’t say anything.”
She swallowed her disappointment. “All right.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“That’s just it—I don’t understand any of it.”
He took her in his arms. “I’m sorry. That’s all I can say.”
“Are you involved?”
“Not officially. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“So you told Bradley whatever it is that you know and walked away.”
“That’s about it.”
“I know that was Harvey Hadden on the stairs.”
“I told him.”
“So he knows I was in there with you.”
“He won’t say a word to you about it.”
“Why?”
“Because, you aren’t involved.”
“So how will Hal Greene report it—whatever it is?”
“It will go down as an anonymous tip.”
She snuggled against his broad chest. “Sometimes I wish you’d go away and never come back, but when you do leave, I’m afraid I’ll never see you again.”
He put his lips against her hair. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“But you might not.”
“Life’s a risk, Nell.”
“More for some than for others.”
“Right.”
“Sam, I…”
He covered her mouth with his, cutting her off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
An anonymous tip on Tuesday night led Amaryllis police officers to the body of Jill Jerome on the second floor of the recently opened Antique Arcade where visiting journalist Wally Powers was shot to death two weeks ago. Police acknowledge the two homicides are most likely related. Ms. Jerome, a photographer, arrived in Amaryllis a few days after Mr. Powers to assist with pictures for the story he planned to write about the history of the building.
Police are questioning several persons of interest, but no arrests have been made. Brice Dolan, owner of the store, which opened last week, has closed it indefinitely until the investigation is completed.
Specific details of Ms. Jerome’s death are being withheld by the police because of the on-going investigation, but Chief Harley Malone says that full disclosure of all the facts will be made public once the case is closed. He asks the citizens of Amaryllis not to engage in speculation or circulate hearsay.
“That’s short, sweet, and to the point,” Mary Lynn said, folding the newspaper and shoving it across the table toward Penelope.
“We know who at least one person of interest is—Brice Dolan.”
“At least Brad didn’t question Harry again.”
“He was just doing his job, and you know it.”
“I know. I just hate to see Harry so upset. I’m not mad at my godson.” She nibbled at the blueberry muffin on her plate. “Doesn’t Peter go to court today?”
“I think so. Yes, it’s the 14th.”
“Have you talked to Shana?”
“Peter asked her to take Tabby shopping for new school clothes today. He thinks Tabby knows something’s going on.”
“Poor little girl.”
“She’ll get hurt worse than any of the adults in the situation.”
“Apparently her grandparents don’t care, just so they get her.”
“I guess not.”
“Maybe we should go over to the church and pray for her.”
Penelope smiled. “That might just be a good idea. I’ll get my purse and my rosary.”
****
Penelope lost track of time as she knelt beside Mary Lynn, her mind wandering from Tabby, Shana, and Peter to Sam. He’d left before she got up the morning after finding Jill Jerome’s body, and she hadn’t heard from him since. Of course, it had only been six…no, seven days, but she missed him worse this time than ever before.
As Sam predicted, Brad never mentioned her foolish foray through the back door of the old feed store, nor did he mention Harvey Hadden. It was anybody’s guess where Harvey was, but since he’d run her off the road—and there was no doubt in Penelope’s mind he’d done it—she’d made it a point not to look for him in town.
But she wondered more than ever. What motive would Harvey have to commit two murders? He was rough, not a man to get on the wrong side of, but killing two people he didn’t even know? Penelope thought not. So if not Harvey, only Brice was left, and she couldn’t feature Brice Dolan murdering anyone either.
Her fingers ticked off the beads of her rosary without focus. Then there was Sam—obviously in contact with the local
police with that silly code. Under the radar? What the heck did that mean?
Mary Lynn’s serene face, as they left the church, deepened Penelope’s feelings of impending doom. I know too much I shouldn’t know…don’t want to know…and I don’t know what I need to know…mostly about Sam. Where is he, and why hasn’t he been in touch with me?
She told Mary Lynn goodbye on the driveway and went into the house alone. The answering machine light flashed, indicating new messages. “Call me,” Shana said in the first one. Then, “Penelope, this is important. Call me now on my cell phone.” The third message cut off just after Shana spoke her name. Penelope fished her own cell phone from her purse, found the number and dialed.
“Shana, I’m sorry. Mary Lynn and I went to church to pray for Tabby and…”
“We were in the middle of the mall when Peter called and told me to bring Tabby to the courthouse. She’s still in there, but I’m in the car across the street.”
“What do you think is going on?”
“I’m not sure. Peter told me this morning, when I picked up Tabby, that his lawyer had a stack of affidavits from Bethany’s high school and college friends, a couple of her teachers, and a coach. He took what Sam said and ran with it, getting documented information and so on.”
“They’ve all got to be negative toward her parents, or the lawyer wouldn’t give them to the judge.”
“Oh, Peter said they all painted the Bainbridges as rotten parents. Also, a private detective found out they separated a few years back because she suspected he was having an affair with his secretary.”
“Was he?”
“The guy tracked down the secretary, and she’s not talking.”
“Oh.”
“But there’s still me, Penelope. Travis Pembroke and me.”
“If you mention his name again, I’m going to strangle you. It’s over, finished, done. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“A few million more times, I guess. Anyway, I brought Tabby down here, but Peter told me not to tell her why. He met us out front about an hour and a half ago, and I haven’t seen them since.”
“Expect the best and…”
“Wait a minute. I think I see the grandparents—I do. They’re coming out—and they’re alone! They lost, Penelope! Oh, thank God, they lost!” The connection went dead.
****
Before Penelope could hit the redial button, Jake sauntered in from his apartment. “Where’d you go, Nellie?”
The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) Page 10
