Beverly Barton - Penny Sue Got Lucky

“You’ve done what?”

“I named you executor of my will,” Dottie replied. “Of course, I won’t be leaving such a sizable fortune, but—”

“Oh, my…my goodness.” Penny Sue hugged her tiny, fragile aunt. As her father used to say, “Dottie’s so thin that she looks as if a strong wind would blow her away.”

“When are we going to start the meeting?” Stacie Paine asked. She was Uncle Douglas’s eldest child, an old-maid schoolteacher, who had turned forty her last birthday.

“It’s already past seven,” Valerie said as she stood up and took a prominent position in front of the fireplace. “I see no reason to delay things. If everyone is ready—”

“We should begin the meeting with a prayer,” Reverend Clayton Dickson proclaimed loudly in a voice that singled him out as a preacher of the gospel.

Clayton was Penny Sue’s first cousin once removed, her father’s first cousin. Clayton’s mother had been one of the few Paine women to snag herself a husband. Since marrying Phyllis and getting religion, Clayton had become a fanatic, totally obsessed with sin and salvation.

Chris Paine, Stacie’s younger brother, groaned loudly and rolled his dark eyes toward the ceiling. He and Clayton had once been best friends, back in their teens when they’d both been hell-raisers. But in recent years, their friendship long dead, Chris took every opportunity to ridicule his cousin.

“A prayer never hurts,” Eula said. “Get on with it, Clayton.”

To everyone’s dismay, except his wife Phyllis’s, Clayton dropped to his knees, right there in the front parlor on Grandmother Paine’s Persian carpet. He lifted his folded hands in front of him, closed his eyes and beseeched his maker for mercy on his sinful soul.

While the others sat quietly and at least pretended to listen to Clayton’s prayer, Penny Sue slipped out of the parlor as quietly as possible. Taking the downstairs rooms, one by one, she searched for Vic. When she entered the kitchen, Ruby paused in her preparations and glanced at Penny Sue.

“Did you come to help me get these drinks out to the parlor?” Ruby asked. “I’m getting too old to be lifting such heavy trays.”

“I’ll be glad to help you,” Penny Sue replied, “but not right now. I’m looking for Vic. For Mr. Noble.”

“He’s out there on the back porch with Tully,” Ruby said. “He’s going over that stuffed dog and the carrier it was in, searching for something.”

“What’s he searching for?”

“How should I know? And I need help now with these drinks, not later.”

“Why don’t you just make two trips to the parlor with those drinks,” Penny Sue said. “Or ask Stacie or Cousin Eula to help you. I really need to speak to Vic.”

Ruby grunted and mumbled to herself.

Just as Penny Sue opened the back door and took her first step onto the porch, Vic glanced up from where he sat beside Tully in old, identical wicker rockers.

“The family meeting is ready to start,” she told Vic. “I’d like for you to come and meet everyone.”

Without hesitation, Vic rose from the rocker. “See you later, Tully.”

The old man nodded.

Vic took Penny Sue’s elbow and turned her around, then escorted her inside before she had a chance to say anything else.

As they walked out of the kitchen, she asked, “Why were you looking over the pet carrier and stuffed dog? What were you searching for?”

He paused, eyed her quizzically and grunted.

“Ruby said you were—” she continued.

“Nothing in particular,” he told her. “Just some general checking. Not really any scientific testing. After all, I don’t have the equipment, but I would like to send everything to the Dundee lab first thing in the morning.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that red stuff on the toy dog was real blood.”

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