The Possum Hollow Hullabaloo (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) (9 page)

“That’s all we need—a lawsuit against the town. Like we’ve got the money to fight it.”

“Harry’s a lawyer.”

“He’s no match for the big guys.”

“Maybe there won’t be a suit.”

“Well, the fat’s in the fire now. All we can do is wait and see.”

Shana reached for the door. “I’ve got to get back. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad Miss Maude’s okay. Tell the Gray Ghost I said goodbye.”

The librarian blew a kiss on her way out.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Penelope sat down at the table when Sam came back. “I don’t want you to leave tomorrow with things bad between us.”

He picked up the paper again, then folded and set it aside before he replied. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Nell.”

“I’m sorry I did something to upset you.”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it. And what you did to your son is despicable.”

“I didn’t set out to hurt either one of you.”

“What is it with you, Nell? You’re basically a sensible woman, but sometimes I think I don’t even know you.”

“I don’t know you either. I thought I knew Travis, but I didn’t.”

“What does he have to do with all this?”

“I think he still haunts me in an odd sort of way. Like I said, I thought I knew him, but I didn’t.”

“Sure you did, Nell. Growing up in a small town like this, you had to know what he was like. You just didn’t want to know.”

“I guess not. I was on the verge of breaking our engagement when he…when we…”

“So then you thought you had to marry him.”

She looked away from him.

“How old were you? Eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Almost twenty.”

“You were still a kid. You made a mistake.”

“And I paid for it, too. I don’t want to make another one.”

“There aren’t any guarantees in life, Nell. You can spend the rest of your time on this earth looking for something safe and sure, and you’ll never find it.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then don’t believe it. It’s still true whether you believe it or not.”

“I don’t know anything about you, Sam.”

“You know how I feel about you.”

“I know you want to sleep with me.”

His harsh sigh echoed in warm kitchen. “I want to make love to you, Nell. There’s a difference.”

“Is there? Travis slept with me. He slept with me for fifteen years while he was making it with half a dozen other women at the same time.”

“Why did you let him in your bed if you knew what he was doing?”

“He was my husband.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“I thought so at the time.”

“This is now.” He disappeared into the utility room and came back with another basket of clean laundry. “I’ve got to finish packing.”

“Do you need some help?”

He looked at her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “I just need you, Nell. I need you in more ways than I can tell you.” He backed up against the swinging door until it opened and stood there, almost as if he were waiting for something.

Why don’t I go upstairs with him right now? Maybe he’s right—maybe nothing’s really safe. Maybe there really is only now, and he’s here, and I’m here, and…
But instead of walking into his arms, the way she wanted to do, she turned her face away. When she heard him leave, she dropped her head on the table and wept.

****

Bradley and Rosabel showed up at six-thirty. “Chicken curry,” Rosabel said, sniffing the kitchen.

“And all the trimmings,” Penelope said, pointing to the Lazy Susan bearing nuts, coconut, and assorted raw vegetables. She looked at her son.
“Peace offering.”

Bradley pecked her cheek.

Jake slapped his grandson’s shoulder. “So you got the so-and-so, huh, Brad?”

“The state police got him, Pawpaw.” He cut his eyes toward his mother.
“And Mother.”

“Go fill your plates from the stove,” Penelope said.
“Rice in the pot on the left.”

Jake handed
Rosabel the plate from her place. “Where’s Sam?”

“Packing,” Penelope said. “Or that’s what he said he was going to do. But I’ll go call him.”

She met him coming down the stairs. “Dinner.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry I was rough on you, Nell.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

“I don’t think you do, but as long as you aren’t holding a grudge, I can live with that.” He kissed her lightly, then let his mouth take complete possession of hers. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too. We’d better go to the kitchen before somebody comes looking.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m a starved puppy.”

****

“Miss Maude came to the station with Rosie and made a statement, and then h
er niece took her to see her doctor. The word is she’s a little dehydrated but nothing too serious.” Brad scraped the last of the rice and curry sauce from his plate and shoveled it into his mouth.

“Maude Pendleton is a tough old bird,” Jake said.

“Did Archie Hadden admit to anything?” Penelope asked.

Brad shrugged. “Not a thing.”

“I saw him shoot George.” She glanced at Sam. “And if Ellie saw Jeremiah kill her mother…”

“What she told me isn’t up for discussion,” Bradley said. “Not right now.”

“Right, I should’ve known that. Sorry.”

“But he’ll be put away. T
hat’s all that counts,” Jake said.

“Oh, yeah,” Bradley said. “Oh, yeah, he’s a gone goose, and good riddance.” He wiped his chin. “Miss Maude understands she can’t talk about anything either.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to go over there and ask her!” Penelope glared at her son. “I don’t know how she survived a day and night out there.” Penelope glanced at his empty plate. “There’s plenty more, Bradley.”

He headed for the stove. “I figured he’d kill her as soon as he got away.”  He helped himself to another full plate and
added, “But maybe she put the fear in him the same way she put it in us when we sat in her classroom. She can be pretty intimidating.”

“She had to be scared to death,”
Rosabel said. “I would’ve been. He reminds me of Blackbeard the Pirate.”

Penelope laughed. “That’s a good comparison. At least we can all sleep better tonight. And I guess I’m sprung from house arrest tomorrow?”

Bradley gave her a long look. “Yeah, you’re sprung, Mother.”

“Maybe you and Mrs. Hargrove will even make it to
Little Rock this time,” Rosabel said, showing her dimples.

“But no detours,” Bradley said. “None whatsoever.”

****

At the top of the stairs, Sam held Penelope against him and kissed the top of her head. “I’m leaving before sun-up.”

“I packed you some food while you and Daddy were watching the late news. Big brown paper bag in the refrigerator, but if you have an ice chest, transfer everything in there.”

“I do. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“
Hadden won’t make bail, I’m sure of that, but I still think the school isn’t the safest place for you to be.”

“I’ve got to go back, Sam. With George out—and probably Carol, too, until he’s a lot better—it’s going to take all of us to keep things going.”

“Is it really worth it, Nell? I mean, ninety-nine per cent of those kids won’t make it to town for junior high school.”

“But if one per cent does, that’s better than nothing.”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“We’ve all made a commitment out there. You’ve made one, too, to something somewhere.”

“I guess I have.” He kissed her hard. “Goodbye, Nell. I’ll be in touch.”

Only when his door had closed behind him did Penelope go to her own room.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When the Possum Hollow School opened the next week, though no one else could tell anything had happened
, Penelope’s eyes were drawn immediately to the spot in the main hall where George Harris had almost bled out. The children seemed skittish the first couple of days, especially Carol Harris’s kindergartners who had to deal with a substitute. Paul Hollis juggled his classroom duties with the principal’s responsibilities. Penelope and Mary Lynn did double-duty everywhere else. The redoubtable Miss Maude Pendleton, in her standard navy blue dress, sailed in on the first day back, her serene bearing shouting the message that nothing had changed, and life would go on.

Prissy Pendleton, supported by parents and students alike, pushed forward with preparations for the Christmas program. Penelope was sorting costumes one Saturday afternoon when a man stalked down the aisle of the auditorium and called out, “I’m going to put a stop to this!”

Penelope moved to the edge of the stage and looked down. “Who are you?”

“I’m going to put a stop to this,” the man repeated.

Penelope squinted into the darkness below. The man’s khaki topcoat swung open, displaying a sunken chest beneath a brown and tan plaid flannel shirt. His thin hair, once blonde but now a dirty yellow, fell around a distinctly weathered face and brushed the collar of the coat .
Bitsy Cosgrove was right—the guy’s a creep
. Penelope noticed how his eyes didn’t quite seem to focus on her.
Or a psycho.

“Do you have a name?”

“Harrison Snively.”

Penelope put her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.
Fits. Just like the character who was always tying the heroine to the railroad tracks.

“Why do you want to shut down our Christmas program, Mr. Scrooge?”

“Snively.”

“Oh, sorry.
Why do you want to cause trouble?”

“This is state property. You can’t have a religious program here.”

“Uh, no, the school was willed to the town by the owner, who happened to be a descendant of the man who built it over a hundred years ago.”

“Town’s part of the state.”

“All the money to renovate it has come from private donations.”
That’s only a little lie. The Town Council did give Mary Lynn some money to get started. And why am I telling him what he probably already knows? He’s not from around here, so it’s none of his business anyway.”

“I filed suit to get this program stopped,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Well, when some judge issues an injunction, I guess it’ll stop. Meanwhile, we’re going to get ready for it. Why don’t you go back wherever you came from? Find some children somewhere and steal their candy.”

The man whirled around and stalked off, t
he coat flapping around his broomstick legs. Penelope took her cell phone from her pocket and punched in her son’s private number.

“Did he do anything besides tell you he was going to shut down the program?”

“If you mean did he threaten me, no, he didn’t. But he was trespassing on private property.”

“The community center isn’t really private property, Mother, and there aren’t any signs posted warning people away.”

“Well, he made me mad.”

Bradley chuckled. “You’ll live.”

Penelope ended the call and made a second one to Harry Hargrove’s office. “Harrison Snively was just here at the community center.”

“Oh, Jerusalem, I thought we were shut of him.”

“Apparently not.”

“I did some checking around, and nobody seems to think he has any grounds for a lawsuit.”

“There’s the money the Town Council gave Mary Lynn.”

Harry sighed. “It wasn’t city money.”

“No?”

“Private donor.”

“Harry, you fraud! You gave her that money and let her think it came from the city.”

“If you tell he
r that, I’ll...you talk too much anyway. Always did.”

“That’s mean, Harry.”

“Aw, Penelope, you know I love you, but I have my reasons for not wanting Mary Lynn to know I furnished the money.”

“You’ve got it to spare.”

“She wanted to do it on her own, and she did get the whole town behind her, you know.”

“I know. Okay, my lips are sealed.”

“Thanks.”

“But that guy gave me the creeps, coming in here this afternoon while I was busy on the stage.”

“Then keep the doors locked. I’ve told Mary Lynn to do that when she’s there.”

“She’s gone uptown to get a few things we need.”

“Okay, well, when she comes back, remind her about the doors. I’m busy, so goodbye.”

Chuckling, Penelope snapped the phone shut and dropped it back in her pocket.
Harrison Snively. I’ll have to remember that. It’s funnier than people named Dancer buying the Sit-n-Swill. 
She shook out a terrycloth bathrobe that had seen better days.
Well, shepherds were hard on their clothes, I guess.
Reaching for the scissors, she began to snip off some stray threads.

****

Although a few of the Possum Hollow children had shown interest in the Christmas program, Archie Hadden’s rampage had effectively quelled their willingness to venture outside their own community. Mary Lynn observed it was just as well as she sat in the kitchen of the B&B a week before Thanksgiving.

“Why would you say that?” Penelope asked.

“Maybe next year, Pen, when things have settled down. We’ll have a whole year to talk it up.”

“Maybe.”

“I got a call from Tonya Cisneros last night.”

“Oh? Did she mention the girls?”

Mary Lynn smiled. “Yes, she did. They’re both fine. Ellie asked her to tell me they both missed us. Tonya says they’re in a home with another couple about our age and no other children. Ellie’s in school and doing well, and Evie goes to pre-school three days a week.”

“Any chance they’ll come back? I mean, Jeremiah and Archie
Hadden have been indicted and can’t make bail, so they’re not going to get out before their trials.”

“Tonya recertified Harry and me as foster parents. I think she pulled some strings somewhere, but it’s a start.”

“Mary Lynn, you’re the same age I am. Are you up to taking in a ten-year-old and a four-year-old on a permanent basis?”

“Harry and I think it would work.”

“At least you’re in this together.”

“Yes, we are. We realize if there’s any family who’d take them, they’d get
first consideration, but they’ll be better off out of the Hollow.”

“Bradley can’t say anything about whether Ellie will have to testify at her father’s trial.”

Mary Lynn shouldered her new leopard-print handbag. “I’m making plans for Christmas.”

“Maybe that’s hoping for too much too soon.”

Mary Lynn’s eyes misted. “But Christmas is the season of miracles, Pen.”

“It’s that, all right.”

“Then I’m going to pray for one for Harry and me. We’re due.