Penny Sue Got Lucky

“Call Sawyer and tell him I’ll go to Alabama until another agent is available. I want time-and-a-half pay and two weeks’ paid vacation when I come in.”

“I’m sure he’ll agree.”

Vic grabbed the file folder Daisy held. “Call him anyway. And once he’s agreed, call Ms. Paine and let her know I’ll phone her when I arrive in Huntsville.” He fanned the file folder at Daisy. “I assume her phone number is in here.”

“Her home phone, her business phone and her cell phone.”

“Just what business is Ms. Paine in?”

“She owns her own business. A shop called Penny Sue’s Pretties. It’s a specialty gifts and home-decorating shop.”

Vic groaned. Oh, God, she was one of those women.

“She’s also running for mayor of Alabaster Creek, population 5,437. I understand it’s a part-time job that pays about fifteen thousand a year.”

Vic groaned again.

He knew, right this minute, before he ever left Dundee headquarters here in Atlanta, that this would turn out to be the assignment from hell.

“Do you really think pink will work in our bedroom?” Hazel Carruthers studied the pale-pink satin material. “Alton’s not big on anything too feminine. He likes navy blue and green and red and brown.”

Penny Sue sighed. “This is your bedroom, too, isn’t it? You shouldn’t have to do all the compromising. Pink is your favorite color.”

“I know, but I have to live with that man, and if I use pink as the dominant color in our bedroom, he’ll sleep on the sofa.”

Penny Sue knew Alton Carruthers. If he were her husband, she’d rather have him sleep on the sofa than in her bed. The man was as ugly as homemade soap, with a grumpy disposition and an I’m-head-of-the-household mentality. He’d chosen wisely when he married Hazel, a plain, skinny redhead with a sweet, gentle temperament and a willingness to please. Although Penny Sue wished the woman would grow a backbone, she liked her nonetheless.

“Paint the walls beige. A light beige with just a hint of pink,” Penny Sue suggested reluctantly. If she pressed Hazel to go against Alton’s wishes, she would be doing her client a disservice. And the client always came first. “Use navy blue as the dominant color in the drapes and bedding, then use pink in the throw pillows and small accent pieces. How does that sound?”

Hazel’s blue eyes brightened. “One pink pillow and maybe some pink candles. Surely Alton can’t complain about that.”

Although every feminist instinct in her groaned, Penny Sue smiled. “Why don’t you look around and see if you can find something you like. I’ll make some notations in my notebook and work up a complete plan for your bedroom.”

Hazel gazed longingly at the pink satin drapery material, then sighed heavily before walking away to search for a pink pillow.

Penny Sue was of the opinion that men should stick to things they know—like hunting and fishing, cars and trucks, sports and beer—and leave home-decorating entirely in the hands of the women in their lives. If she had a husband, which she didn’t and possibly never would, she’d tell him straight away that if she wanted a pink bedroom, then by golly she’d have one and he’d just have to get used to it. Now it wasn’t as if she was opposed to catering to a man, to making him feel special and building up his ego, but there were limits to what a woman should have to do.

Just as Penny Sue headed toward her desk, tucked away in the corner of Penny Sue’s Pretties, the bell over the door tinkled, informing her that a customer had either entered or exited her shop. Since Hazel was the only person in the store, other than herself, that meant she’d have to postpone working on Hazel’s bedroom plans and see to the needs of the new customer. After laying her notebook on the antique French desk, she retraced her steps and headed toward the front of the store. The minute she saw her cousin Valerie marching toward her, Penny Sue came to a dead stop. She could tell from the look on Val’s face that her cousin was in a snit.

Valerie Redley, with her silky blond hair and slanted green eyes, glared at Penny Sue. Model-thin, long-legged and bosomy, her cousin had “that look.” You know, the look that tells men she’s not only hot, but also available. “That look” came from the other side of her family, not from the Paines. The Paine women were known for their modesty and ladylike manners.

“Are you out of your mind?” Val asked, her voice loud enough to be heard throughout the store.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t you play innocent with me. I just came from Doc Stone’s, where I’d gone to check on Lucky, and Tanya told me what you’ve done.”

Penny Sue stood her ground, putting the most defiant look on her face she possibly could. But when a person had small, soft features, the way she did, it wasn’t easy. Killer stares were better accomplished by people with chiseled features.

“And just what did Doc Stone’s receptionist tell you I’ve done?”

“You’re wasting Aunt Lottie’s money on the most foolish notion I’ve ever heard of,” Val said. “Hiring a bodyguard for that stupid dog is outrageous. Whatever were you thinking?”

Sticking her nose in the air, hoping for a snooty look since she couldn’t quite pull off defiant, Penny Sue replied, “I was thinking that Lucky needed protection from whomever is trying to kill him.”

Val groaned. “Nobody is trying to kill that mutt. You have no right to spend Aunt Lottie’s money—”

Penny Sue stuck her index finger right in Val’s face. “It’s not Aunt Lottie’s money anymore. It’s Lucky’s money.” Val’s expression hardened, putting wrinkles in her forehead and between her eyes. Val wasn’t aging well. Another trait she must have inherited from the other side of her family. The Paines always aged well. “Have you forgotten that someone shot Lucky and nearly killed him?”

“It was an accident. All the men around Alabaster Creek own guns and many of them target practice in their backyards, so it’s not that big a stretch to think a stray bullet might hit something other than its intended target. Even the police think that Lucky was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and—”

“Hogwash.”

“What?”

“You heard me—hogwash. One of my relatives—” she looked pointedly at Val “—is willing to murder Lucky in order to inherit his money.”

Val huffed, then sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips.

Penny Sue wondered if Dylan had ever noticed that his wife was not a pretty woman. Sexy. Yes. Attractive in a floozie kind of way. Yes. But pretty. No. And as she grew older, the good Paine genes she had inherited from her father—a first cousin to Lottie, Dottie, Douglas and Percy—were being ravaged by the less-favorable genes she had inherited from her mother. Valerie’s mother had not been a pretty woman either. None of the Good-wins in and around Alabaster Creek were good-looking.

“You should know that I’ve called a meeting for this evening so that we can discuss what you’ve done,” Val said. “Even Aunt Dottie is upset with you.”

In her peripheral vision, Penny Sue caught a glimpse of Hazel Carruthers cautiously coming up the aisle, her eyes wide, her attention focused on the loud disagreement. “Call all the meetings you want. I’ve done what I thought best for Lucky and there’s really nothing you can do about it.”

“I think someone other than you should be named executor of Aunt Lottie’s will and made Lucky’s guardian.”

Penny Sue took a step toward her cousin, who took a step back, her eyes rounded in surprise. “I’m not going to hit you, even though a part of me would like to slap you silly. You’re such a twit. Aunt Lottie chose me for good reason. And Uncle Willie made sure there’s little chance of her wishes being overturned in any court of law. Lucky inherited Aunt Lottie’s money and I’m her executor and Lucky’s guardian and I intend to see that Lucky lives to a ripe old age. He’s only four. He could easily live another ten or twelve years.”

“Do you intend to throw away millions on a private bodyguard for the next ten years? If you do, you’ll be certifiably insane and we might be able to have you committed.”

Penny Sue grinned. “Get real, will you? I’m a Paine. I’m supposed to be eccentric. And as for keeping a bodyguard indefinitely—I don’t think that will be necessary. Once we find out who tried to kill Lucky, Uncle Willie says it’s possible that we can legally remove that person from the list of heirs.”

“You can’t do that!”

“No, I can’t, but Uncle Willie probably can. There’s a provision in Aunt Lottie’s will that speaks to that issue.”

“I don’t remember Uncle Willie reading anything about—”

“It was worded in legal jargon and everyone was so upset and making all kinds of threats that day that I seriously doubt anyone was listening when he read the specific provision concerning disqualifying heirs.”

“Well, I can assure you that Dylan and I would never harm a hair on Lucky’s head,” Val said. “And I really don’t think anyone else in the family tried to kill Lucky, but if they did, then they should definitely be removed from the list of heirs who will inherit when Lucky dies.”

Penny Sue’s grin widened. Valerie had changed her tune rather quickly. No doubt she was calculating how much more money she would inherit if the list of heirs was cut by one. That meant either she was not the would-be killer or she was trying to figure out a way to frame someone else.

“I’ll let the others know that this bodyguard you’ve hired for Lucky is only a temporary thing,” Val said. “However, since you’re the one who hired him, I think you should be the one to pay him—out of your own pocket. It’s not fair to take money away from the rest of us, now is it?”

Penny Sue glowered at Val. The bell over the entrance door chimed again. Since Hazel stood only a few feet away, that meant someone new had entered the shop. Momentarily taking her eyes off Val to check on the newcomer, Penny Sue saw her cousin Eula, who had retired from her job at Alabaster Creek Utilities last year, at the age of sixty-two. Eula worked part-time at Penny Sue’s Pretties now. And today was one of her three half-days, which included Wednesdays, Saturdays and Fridays.