The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) (9 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Bradley didn’t mention Sam when Penelope took her notes to the police department the next morning. “I’ll talk to the Toneys,” he said. “It might be something, and it might be nothing.”

“I saw Jill Jerome going into the Antique Arcade on my way here this morning.”

“She’s still around.”

“Find her film?”

“No.”

“Do you think it was really stolen?”

“All I can do is investigate what I’m told.”

Penelope nodded. “Sure. I heard about Brice.”

Bradley shrugged.

“She’s a troublemaker, isn’t she?”

He shrugged again.

“Well, I’ll go on and let you get to work.”

“Mother, stay away from Possum Hollow.”

She frowned. “That’s what Sam said.”

“Good advice.”

“You know I don’t ever go out there except at Christmas.”

“I know. Just thought I’d mention it.”

She nodded. “Okay. You and Rosabel come by anytime.”

****

She walked to the library on the opposite side of the street from the antique store. The door of the former
tavern
stood open, and she could see people moving around inside. She pushed open the door to the library and savored the cool air. Shana looked up from behind the desk.

“The Bainbridges have filed suit for custody of Tabby.”

“Oh, no!”

Shana nodded. “Peter called me last night. He got served when he picked up Tabby from school.”

“Does she know what’s going on?”

“He doesn’t think so.”

“Does he have a court date?”

“Next month.”

“The judge will throw it out, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Penelope. I’m scared to
death, and so is Peter. I can tell. Apparently they tried to get her once before, and the judge basically told them to leave things alone.”

“Why do they think they’ll get her this time?”

“Evidence. Me.”

“Oh, Shana, I’m so sorry.”

“I told Peter I’d quit my job and go back home to Ohio.”

             
“Do you really think that would help?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’re determined to have her, Shana. They may be using you, but I don’t think anything you do will change what they want.”

“That’s what Peter said.” Shana’s head went down on the desk. “It’s such a mess, and it’s all my fault.”

“Stop that right now. It’s a mess, but it’s not your fault, not by a long shot. They’d have gone after Tabby even if you’d never been in the picture.”

“But I am, a
nd what I did before is the problem.”

“It’s time to let go of all that. Travis Pembroke is dead, and it’s finished. Done.”

Penelope left when a mother with three children brought an armload of books to the desk. “I’ll be in touch,” she said. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

****

Rosabel helped Penelope set out cold cuts, raw vegetables, cheese, crackers, bread, and a variety of dips. “I told Brad we shouldn’t just keep dropping in unannounced.”

“I’ve always got something to put on the table,” Penelope said, “and if I don’t, we’ll send Bradley out for pizza at that
new place by the hospital.”

“I heard it was good. Not great, but good.”

“I’ll bet your family has some good recipes.”

“Lebanese cooking, but I grew up on it, so maybe I took it for granted.”

“Then you’ll have to show me some things one of these days. How are your parents?”

“Mama’s not happy she can’t get down here to meet Brad and the rest of his family, but Papa’s really busy right now, and he can’t get good help.”

“Nobody wants to learn the saddle-making business?”

“Not in Pickens, Nevada, it seems. Papa’s saddles are famous all over the state.”

“I guess young folks think it’s not such a glamorous career.”

“It’s a lot of hard work. I used to help in the shop during the summers.”

“What did your parents think of you becoming a police officer and moving south?”

“They were very supportive.”

“How close does your sister live?”

“About forty miles. She brings her kids every Sunday.”

“That’s nice.”

“Should I go call Brad and Pawpaw?”

“Pry them away from that television if you can.”

****

Bradley carried his overflowing plate to the table. “Looks good, Mother.”

“Just be glad you didn’t have to go out for pizza.”

He made a face. “Yeah.”

“So what’s new, Brad?” Jake asked as he spread his napkin after the blessing.

“Same old, same old, Pawpaw.”

“Nothing new on who dispatched Wally
Powers?”

“I’m working on some things.” Bradley hesitated. “I did go out and talk to the Toney twins.”

“They used to go squirrel hunting with Harvey Hadden when they were kids.”

“Aren’t they your age?”

Jake preened himself. “I just look younger. But they’re a few years older than me, I guess.”

Rosabel laughed. “You’re just a kid, Pawpaw. You’ll out-dance everybody at our wedding.”

Pleased, Jake patted her arm. “You betcha.”

Bradley’s pager went off before Penelope could serve dessert. He went to the phone and dialed dispatch. “What now?”

Penelope watched his face, but his expression didn’t change. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, “I’ll check it out. Where’s Parnell? Oh. Sure, I’ll go see what’s going on.” He hung up. “Gotta go, but I’ll be back. Save me some pie.”

“Do you need me?” Rosabel asked.

“I don’t think so. Parnell’s on the way.”

“Where?” Penelope asked without meaning to.

Bradley shook his head. “Where else? The old feed store aka Dolan’s Antique Arcade.”

Penelope wanted to ask what was going on, but she pressed her lips together. “Be careful, son,” Jake said.

“Yeah, I will, Pawpaw. See ya.”

A heavy feeling settled over Penelope as she watched him leave. Excusing herself, she went into the dining room and leaned against the wall until she had her emotions under control.

****

Rosabel took the call from the police department. “Okay, sure. No problem.”

She hung up and turned to face Jake and Penelope. “Brad said he’d be here for his pie in about an hour.” She put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “You won’t believe what happened.”

“Can you tell us?” Penelope asked.

“Harvey Hadden broke into the store and went upstairs, where he found Brice and Jill in Miss Madeline’s room, and…”

“Maybe you better not go any further,” Penelope interrupted.

Rosabel grinned. “It’s not what you think. They were having a knock-down drag-out screaming match—some people on the street heard them—but apparently Harvey had a jug of shine with him, and by the time Brad and Parnell got there, everybody loved everybody.”

“What is Harvey doing hanging around there?” Jake asked.

Penelope made a quick decision to let Brad share what she’d found out at the archives, so she shook her head.

Rosabel sat down again. “But there’s a matter of Brice’s wallet, which is n
ow empty, and he’s swearing Harvey took the money. Harvey’s swearing he didn’t, and Jill Jerome is backing him up, and now everybody hates everybody again.” She went off in a fit of giggles. “Someday I’m going to write a book.”

“At least nobody killed anybody,” Penelope said.

Brad picked Rosabel up later but took his pie with him. “I’ve got paperwork,” he told Penelope.

“You locked them all up?”

“Until they’re sober anyway.”

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah. Thanks for supper, Mother. I’ll talk to you later.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next day, when Penelope met Mary Lynn for lunch at the Garden Spot, she noticed Jill Jerome sitting across the restaurant. “Don’t tell me she’s still here,” Mary Lynn muttered.

“Looks like it.”

“I don’t care what she says, something’s going on between Brice and her. Too bad. Did you ever meet his wife?”

“
No. Don’t jump to conclusions, Mary Lynn.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Not necessarily.”

Mary Lynn rolled her eyes and plopped into a chair, hanging her zebra-print bag on the back of it. “I guess nothing came of her accusation that Brice tried to do whatever it is he’s supposed to have tried to do.”

Penelope laughed. “I guess not.” She thought of the scene in Miss Madeline’s room the night before and wished she could share it.”

As soon as the waitress took their orders and left, Jill Jerome sashayed across the room—Penelope t
hought everyone would agree the woman
sashayed
—and stood beside the table. “Well, Mrs. Mayor and Mrs. B&B.”

She’s still drunk,
Penelope thought. She sniffed to catch the scent of alcohol, but it wasn’t present.

“I’m stone cold sober, Mrs. Pembroke,” Jill said, dropping her voice. “I’m sure you heard about last night. It must be nice to have an in with the local police department.”

Mary Lynn frowned across the table. “Last night?”

“Never mind,” Penelope said. “Look, Miss Jerome, why don’t you just go back to
Dallas? What’s keeping you here?”

Jill’s crooked smile menaced the women. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t.”

“My film turned up, by the way.”

I bet it was never missing to begin with.

“Film?” Mary Lynn asked. “Oh, those pictures you took upstairs at the store. What are you going to do with them?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Or maybe you won’t. I’m willing to bet nobody in this antiquated town reads anything besides recipes and true love stories.”

“You’d be surprised,” Penelope said. “Well, I’m glad the film turned up. Now you can…”

“I can do what Wally set out to do.”

“Which was?”

“Make a bundle, of course. His editor has even agreed to let me write the story from Wally’s notes and use the photographs I took.”

“I see.”

Mary Lynn glared at Jill. “Just what is a story about a small-town pleasure parlor worth?” Her face flushed.

“Plenty. I’d be willing to name a figure if your husband would like to make it worth my while not to write the story.”

Penelope’s head snapped up. “That’s extortion, you know.”

“Whatever. Go run to sonny boy and tell him. It’s my word against yours.”

“I heard you, too,” Mary Lynn said.

Jill laughed and walked away, hips swaying.

“What could she possibly write that she’d think Harry would want to pay her not to write?” Penelope asked.

“He’s r
esigned himself to the fact the story’s going to come out.”

“His great-grandfather made his money in a saloon. So what?”

“And from what went on upstairs.”

“So what?”

“If it was your family, you’d understand.”

“Oh, for blessed Pete’s sake, Mary Lynn, nobody cares.”

Mary Lynn sagged against the back of her chair. “Harry does.”

“Harry needs to get a grip.”

“I’ve told him that.”

“Maybe there’s more he isn’t telling you.”

“I think…Harry and I have always shared everything, Pen, but now…now, I don’t know.”

****

Penelope left Mary Lynn at her car and walked to the library. As she passed the antique store, Brice hailed her from the door. She crossed the street reluctantly. “Hello, Brice.”

“Do you have a minute?”

“One or two.”

He stood aside so I could precede him into the store. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

“I’d have to say so.”

“I apologized to Hal and Harry.”

“I heard.”

“I guess you also heard I was picked
up because Jill accused me of…”

Penelope held up her hand to silence him.
“I heard that, too.”

“She didn’t exactly recant, but your son has let the matter drop.”

“She’s not very reliable, is she?”

“Worse than that, Penelope.”

I don’t really want to hear this.

“When we were in college, we were, well, an item. That’s before I ever met Darcy.”

“An item.”

He didn’t look at her. “I broke it off, when I figured she was working both sides of the fence with Wally
Powers. He was going to be a big-time journalist, and she had aspirations of being the same only with photography.”

“They both made it, I guess.”

“She took the pictures for his first few articles, the one that drew attention to him as an investigative reporter, but she never felt she got enough credit—or money.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do.” Brice perched on the edge of a battered desk. “She kept working for him, and he kept paying her just enough to keep her coming back, making promises that the next story would be the big one for her. It never happened. When she tried to branch out on her own, she couldn’t get much. Oh, she did enough business to make a living, but it wasn’t the kind of business she wanted.”

“Photojournalism. Investigative journalism.”

“Right.” He chewed his lip. “I didn’t exactly get Wally in on this on purpose. I ran into him in a bar in Little Rock right after I discovered what was upstairs. We talked over old times and both of us had too much to drink. When I told him what I’d found, he was full of plans to make it a big story. I think he thought he could dig up dirt on the families of people who lived here now.”

“Like Miss Maude Pendleton?”

“You heard about that, huh? I tried to warn him.”

“He’s lucky she didn’t beat him to death with that ancient umbrella.” She caught her breath. “Or maybe he’d have been better off if she’d run him all the way out of town.”

“You don’t…didn’t… run off Wally Powers. Nothing scared him. Believe me, I tried to get him to leave when he started getting on the wrong side of people.”

“Didn’t you know he’d do that?”

“I guess I did, Penelope, but…I don’t know, I had this thing about Harry. Stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Wally hung onto this like a dog with a bone, and when Jill showed up—I hadn’t seen her since we graduated from college, at least not up close.”

“Okay.”

“She made a play for me right off the bat. I told her it wasn’t going to happen.”

Penelope leaned close to Brice. “Tell me the truth, Brice, do you know more about Wally
Powers’ murder than you’re telling the police?”

He swallowed hard. “I can’t answer that.”

“Bradley’s no hick-town cop,” Penelope continued. “He’s had training out the wahzoo. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

Brice stood up. “Maybe he already has.”

She turned and saw her son advancing toward the door of the shop.