Penny Sue Got Lucky. BEVERLY BARTON
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took a prominent position in front of the fireplace. “I see no reason to delay things. If everyone is ready—”
“We should begin the meeting with a prayer,” Reverend Clayton Dickson proclaimed loudly in a voice that singled him out as a preacher of the gospel.
Clayton was Penny Sue’s first cousin once removed, her father’s first cousin. Clayton’s mother had been one of the few Paine women to snag herself a husband. Since marrying Phyllis and getting religion, Clayton had become a fanatic, totally obsessed with sin and salvation.
Chris Paine, Stacie’s younger brother, groaned loudly and rolled his dark eyes toward the ceiling. He and Clayton had once been best friends, back in their teens when they’d both been hell-raisers. But in recent years, their friendship long dead, Chris took every opportunity to ridicule his cousin.
“A prayer never hurts,” Eula said. “Get on with it, Clayton.”
To everyone’s dismay, except his wife Phyllis’s, Clayton dropped to his knees, right there in the front parlor on Grandmother Paine’s Persian carpet. He lifted his folded hands in front of him, closed his eyes and beseeched his maker for mercy on his sinful soul.
While the others sat quietly and at least pretended to listen to Clayton’s prayer, Penny Sue slipped out of the parlor as quietly as possible. Taking the downstairs rooms, one by one, she searched for Vic. When she entered the kitchen, Ruby paused in her preparations and glanced at Penny Sue.
“Did you come to help me get these drinks out to the parlor?” Ruby asked. “I’m getting too old to be lifting such heavy trays.”
“I’ll be glad to help you,” Penny Sue replied, “but not right now. I’m looking for Vic. For Mr. Noble.”
“He’s out there on the back porch with Tully,” Ruby said. “He’s going over that stuffed dog and the carrier it was in, searching for something.”
“What’s he searching for?”
“How should I know? And I need help now with these drinks, not later.”
“Why don’t you just make two trips to the parlor with those drinks,” Penny Sue said. “Or ask Stacie or Cousin Eula to help you. I really need to speak to Vic.”
Ruby grunted and mumbled to herself.
Just as Penny Sue opened the back door and took her first step onto the porch, Vic glanced up from where he sat beside Tully in old, identical wicker rockers.
“The family meeting is ready to start,” she told Vic. “I’d like for you to come and meet everyone.”
Without hesitation, Vic rose from the rocker. “See you later, Tully.”
The old man nodded.
Vic took Penny Sue’s elbow and turned her around, then escorted her inside before she had a chance to say anything else.
As they walked out of the kitchen, she asked, “Why were you looking over the pet carrier and stuffed dog? What were you searching for?”
He paused, eyed her quizzically and grunted.
“Ruby said you were—” she continued.
“Nothing in particular,” he told her. “Just some general checking. Not really any scientific testing. After all, I don’t have the equipment, but I would like to send everything to the Dundee lab first thing in the morning.”
“Why is that?”
“Because that red stuff on the toy dog was real blood.”
Chapter 4
Vic led Penny Sue into the front parlor, then paused just past the threshold. A horde of Paine relatives buzzed about inside the room like a swarm of busy bees, all with a common goal, some with their stingers ready to strike. But which family members were deadly and which totally harmless? Who had shot Lucky? Who wanted to kill the millionaire dog? And who had left the little surprise package on the front porch tonight? The answer to all four questions could well be the same, but what if there was more than one perpetrator, more than one heir willing to kill Lottie Paine’s dog in order to receive their inheritance now instead of waiting for old age to claim Lucky’s life?
“Should I call Dr. Stone’s office and check on Lucky?” Penny Sue asked Vic. “You don’t think that might have been Lucky’s blood on the stuffed dog, do you?”
“My guess is that Lucky’s fine. Otherwise the vet’s office would have contacted you,” Vic told her. “As for the blood—it’s probably animal blood, but I doubt it’s Lucky’s.”
“Oh look, everyone,” Dottie Paine said exuberantly. “Here’s our Penny Sue and she has Mr. Noble with her. Come on in, you two.” Dottie waved them forward with a sweep of her hand, as if presenting a royal couple to their subjects.
All heads turned in their direction. Instinctively Vic slipped his arm around Penny Sue’s waist. On some basic, primeval level he sensed she needed protection from these people. Just a gut reaction, but heeding his instincts had saved his life in the past. Everything within him sensed danger.
No one is going to harm Penny Sue, an inner voice said.
But she’s not the one in danger, he reminded himself. The victim is Lucky. So why was it that he felt so strongly that Penny Sue needed him?
“We’re ready to start the meeting.” Dottie fluttered about like a nervous butterfly, bestowing smiles on everyone. “Penny Sue, dear…”
“I believe Valerie called this meeting.” Penny Sue glowered at the long, lean blonde sitting on the sofa beside a stocky, rosy-cheeked man Vic assumed was her husband. “Since everyone is here, why don’t you start things off by telling the family why you’re so concerned.”
Valerie rose to her full five foot eight, scanned the faces of everyone assembled and paused on Vic. She let her gaze linger for a moment too long, her mannerisms sending out sexual signals. The woman might be married, but he figured that didn’t stop her from flirting with other men. And she was well aware of what she was doing, unlike Penny Sue, to whom flirting came as naturally as breathing and was as genuine as her smile.
“As we all know, Lucky was the victim of a terrible accident,” Valerie said, then looked away from Vic. “But Penny Sue has convinced herself that one of us tried to kill him.”
A roar of protest rose quickly.
“Penny Sue hasn’t accused anyone,” Dottie reminded the others. “She simply feels—”
“I can speak for myself,” Penny Sue said. “I believe that someone with something to gain if Lucky dies took it upon himself—or herself—to dispose of the only thing standing between all of us and rather sizable inheritances.”
Penny Sue looked pointedly at Valerie, who gasped silently and glanced around so that the others could see the shocked expression on her face.
Some grumbled angrily while others sat quietly, as if afraid that speaking out might cast suspicion on them. Vic studied the group, one by one. Valerie and her husband protested the loudest and Eula Paine appeared to be the least agitated.
An elderly, rather distinguished gentleman standing in the corner of the room cleared his throat loudly, then spoke up. “For what it’s worth, I agree with Penny Sue. Someone, probably someone in this room, tried to kill Lucky.”
More grumbling ensued, the family members jabbering among themselves, complaining that they’d been lumped together as possible dog-killers.
“Who is he?” Vic asked, keeping his voice low so that only Penny Sue could hear him.
“That’s Uncle Willie. Wilfred Hopkins, Aunt Lottie’s lawyer.”
“Hmm…”
“I need to make it perfectly clear that if anyone is caught trying to harm Lucky, that