Penny Sue Got Lucky

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” The comment came from a man in his mid-forties with a robust voice. “You have no right to—”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Cousin Clayton,” Penny Sue said. “I have every right to do whatever is necessary to keep Lucky safe and that includes spending every dime of the money Aunt Lottie left him to see that he lives to a ripe old age.”

“You can’t mean that you’ll keep a bodyguard for Lucky as long as he lives,” the bosomy redhead practically sitting in Douglas Paine’s lap said.

“Now y’all see why I’m concerned.” Valerie smiled triumphantly. “Penny Sue has lost her mind. She shouldn’t be in control of Aunt Lottie’s fortune if she plans…”

Suddenly everyone started talking at once, each with a specific opinion, the majority apparently as upset with Penny Sue as Valerie was. When they started coming toward her, accusing her of being as loony as Lottie and demanding she rethink her position, Penny Sue stood her ground.

“If everyone would be quiet—” Penny Sue tried to talk above the incessant clamor.

“Hush…please…everyone…” Aunt Dottie’s pleas fell on deaf ears.

“I have every legal right to take care of Lucky,” Penny Sue told them in a loud voice. “As far as I’m concerned this meeting is over. If you have any complaints, take them up with Uncle Willie.”

“Or with me,” Vic said.

The room quieted. Everyone focused on him.

Now was the time for him to step in and lay down some ground rules. Although he hadn’t been hired to defend Penny Sue Paine against her greedy relatives, that was just what he intended to do.

“I’m Vic Noble, with the Dundee Private Security and Investigation agency, based in Atlanta, Georgia. Be forewarned—I’ve been hired by Ms. Paine to guard her dog twenty-four/seven. And our agency will also be investigating Lucky’s shooting. Each of you will be checked out thoroughly, everything from your whereabouts when Lucky was shot to any past history of abuse of animals.” Vic threw in that last comment for good measure. “I also plan to retrieve the bullet from Dr. Stone and have a ballistic test run on it. If we can find the weapon, we’ll have our shooter. And the pet carrier and bloody stuffed dog left on the front porch tonight will also be gone over thoroughly at our Dundee lab.”

Utter silence prevailed.