The Secretary Gets Her Man

But according to Georgia and Wanetta, Agnes had used the gift proudly. Entertaining the school board.

“Why did the school board meet here?”

“Agnes was a member. Darnedest thing. After grouching at and scaring half the children in the neighborhood, she suddenly developed a soft spot for them—though she did her best to hide it. Even started a fund-raiser to benefit orphaned children.”

“That’s nice.” Penny set water on to boil and didn’t turn around. She didn’t want the neighbors to see how stunned she was. And hurt, perhaps. Penny herself had basically been an orphan. Her father had been around, but not often, and not for long periods of time.

And though Agnes had taken her in, given her food and shelter, she’d never made Penny feel welcome.

Agnes Archer had tried her best to teach Penny that she was unlovable.

Chapter Three

Remembering Joe’s subtle censure over her not being here for the funeral, Penny wondered if Georgia and Wanetta were thinking the same way.

She turned, looked at the two old women. “I would have visited, but Grandmother always made up excuses and told me not to.”

“Oh, we know that, dear.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Agnes was a pill—more often than not had her lips all puckered up like she was gonna spit. Not many folks understood what made her tick.” Georgia laughed and waved a hand. “I like to think I’ve got an edge on most, being a retired telephone operator and all.”

Penny felt a smile grow. The aunts could always put her at ease. “Aunt Georgia, you’re not going to tell me you eavesdropped on private conversations, are you?”

“Of course I’m not going to tell you that, darlin’.” Her sly smile said it for her.

Besides, everyone in town knew exactly how Georgia had gotten so much of her information.

Penny poured tea in cups, put the rest of the bakery rolls on a plate in the center of the table, and sat down.

“Just like you didn’t tell anyone that Stan Saffrone kept a place over in Austin—and had built a real nice swimming pool over his dead wife’s body?”

Georgia sniffed and tugged at her polyester vest. “I can’t imagine how anyone could draw a parallel between a telephone operator and a typed note left on the police department’s front desk.”

“Of course not,” Penny said with a grin. “Must be my suspicious mind.”

“And well you should have a suspicious mind. That’s an asset to a spy, I’d say. You must regale us with some of your exciting stories, dear.”

“Now, Aunt Georgia…” The telephone rang, saving her. Penny rose to answer, frowning when no one responded. “Hello?” she repeated. Unwilling to play the game, she disconnected first and turned to face the neighbor ladies who were both staring with rapt, expectant expressions.

“The grapevine must work fast,” Penny said with a soft laugh. “Too bad whoever it was didn’t have the courage to speak.”

“Did you get a heavy breather?”

“No. Just didn’t want to talk. Probably the wrong number…unless Grandmother had a special friend?” She didn’t think that likely, but it wouldn’t be unheard of. Someone pining for a lost loved one, dialing a familiar number in a moment of weakness, hoping against hope that death had been a dream, a big mistake.

“Agnes had friends, but no one close. Up until the very last she pretty much held us all at arm’s length,” Georgia said, staring at the telephone receiver Penny had already replaced in its cradle.

“And folks in Darby don’t just hang up,” she continued. “Wrong numbers are simply a good reason to visit with someone new.” She sent a look at Wanetta. “Press automatic call-back and let’s see who it was.”

“Aunt Georgia, if someone’s trying to get in touch with me, they’ll try again.”

“We did have us a case of a heavy breather a month or so back. Old Dudly Ferring got a drunken obsession with Thelma Croft, but she blew a whistle in his ear and burst his eardrum, so I don’t imagine he’s at it again this soon.”

“Nope. No heavy breathing.”

“Suppose one of your spy cases has found out you’re here?” Wanetta asked.

“Wanetta, I do believe you might be on to something.” Georgia lowered her voice dramatically. “Are you in danger, dear? Because Wanetta and I can bring over the shotguns and stand guard.”

Penny laughed and held up her hands. “No shotguns, Aunt Georgia! I’m not in danger. I promise.”

“Well, if you were, you know you could count on us. We take care of our own here in Darby. But of course you’ll remember that, won’t you dear?”

Penny remembered. Though she didn’t feel like she’d been lovingly taken care of. At least not by her grandmother.

Now the sisters, on the other hand, had gone a long way to filling the emotional gap. They’d wanted to lynch Joe when he’d hurt her. Actually, they’d wanted to string up Joe’s father, Cyrus Colter, who Georgia claimed was a useless son of a gun who wanted to live his life through his son and constantly pushed Joe when a smarter man would have known to ease up.

Penny reached across and gave both Georgia’s and Wanetta’s hands a squeeze. “It’s so good to see you both again. I wish I’d just ignored Grandmother’s cold shoulder and come home anyway.”

Wanetta adjusted her ridiculous hat. “You’re here now, that’s what matters. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. But we’ll not hog all of your time. I’m sure you’d like to see some girlfriends.”

“I’d planned to stop by Kelly Robertson’s.” After she made a trip to the cemetery.

“Ah, yes. You know Kelly’s opening a bookstore, don’t you?”

“Mmm. She’d said so in her Christmas card.”

“Due to have the grand opening next week. She’ll be so happy that you’re here to attend. Let me just jot down the telephone numbers for you—although you can get them through information. Folks hardly ever go to the trouble to have their numbers unlisted—especially now with those caller ID features.”

Georgia rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers, found a scrap of paper and scribbled numbers.

“This’ll save you getting caught by Loralie Vanna. She’s one of the local operators here in Darby. She’s supposed to use the computer, but she’s so nosy, half the time she butts right in and engages folks in conversation. I’ve a mind to report her to her superiors, but Wanetta reminds me it’s not my job anymore. Runs my blood pressure up. Here you go, hon.” She handed the paper to Penny and gave her a hug.

“Come for supper if you want,” Wanetta said. “Georgia’s got a chicken all ready to fry up, and there’ll be plenty. Maybe we can even talk Joe into stopping by. A single man, and all, he could use a good home-cooked meal.”

Penny kissed the honorary aunts on the cheeks. “Thanks for the invitation, but don’t count on me. I’ve got a ton of things to do, and I can’t promise a time when I’ll be free.”

“That’s fine, dear. The invitation stands—anytime.”

When the sisters left, Penny called Kelly to let her friend know she’d be by later for a visit. Hanging up, she couldn’t help thinking about the other phone call.

For no good reason, Penny got an uneasy feeling. She’d heard a series of subtle clicks on the line, like the skip of a tape recorder. But why would anyone call and record her voice?

Just to be on the safe side, Penny figured she ought to send a gently probing e-mail to Kendra at the Smoking Barrel. Just to see if anything unusual was up at Texas Confidential headquarters that she should know about.

KELLY ROBERTSON had hardly changed a bit. Still bubbly, outgoing and friendly. She’d put on a little weight after three kids, but it sat well on her, made her look like a woman. Happy and healthy.