Read Online IN FOR A PENNY (The Granny Series) by Nancy Naigle, Kelsey Browning - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy Naigle, Kelsey Browning
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and treason. Sometimes that guy watched too much television. “I’ll take care of this one. Then I’m off for the day.”
Teague was in no big hurry to run off the poor folks just doing a little Walmart to Walmart camping spree across the country. They never caused any problems, but that new manager was such a stickler for the law, and all that had done was keep Teague and his deputy busy with silly calls like this. A waste of good time and the county’s money.
He stopped by his house and picked up his tackle box and fishing pole. With everything he’d need, including a six pack and wigglers in a cooler, he headed off to handle his last task of the day.
The Walmart parking lot was crowded, but even so he didn’t need to go in and talk to the manager to figure out who the culprit was.
The sunshine yellow VW bus took up two spaces off to the far side of the lot. The old vehicle wasn’t in the way, but next to it stood an open market umbrella with a cooler and lawn chair. A bright purple rug sprawled alongside, and a long lean blonde in a colorful skirt and skintight tank top was stretched out in a pose that, from where he sat, looked like a cross between an Egyptian hieroglyphic and a burglar on the run.
Okay, so this could be distracting.
He parked and headed over to her. She moved from pose to pose and didn’t seem to notice that he was standing right in front of her.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
The woman, who he’d assumed was in her late twenties from a distance, straightened and turned to face him. He slowed for a moment. She was no kid. With the fine lines around her mouth, she had to be in her fifties or older.
Her face spread into a perfect smile. “Greetings, my friend. Isn’t it a glorious day?”
Perfect for fishing. Let’s make this quick. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to pack up and move along, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“There’s no boondocking allowed in this parking lot.”
The woman folded to the fetal position with her chin tucked tight to her knees. Her strawberry blonde hair nearly touched the ground around her.
“Ma’am? I’m talking to you.”
She slowly rose with her palms together and fingers pointed to her feet. “But I’ve stayed in Walmarts all over this beautiful country. No one has minded before.”
“I’m sorry about that. There’s a nice little inn up the street.”
“I’ve got a place to sleep.” She pointed toward her van. “Right here.”
“That might be the case, but you can’t do it in this parking lot.”
She raised her hands to the sky and inhaled. He stood there waiting and wondering what the heck she would do next. She blew out an exaggerated breath, like she was blowing away a bad smell.
He took a step back.
“Could you let me just stay a day or two?” she asked. “Please?”
“I can’t.”
She looked him over, starting at his Astros baseball cap, meandering down his jeans to his boots and back up. Her gaze never returned to his face, but stalled somewhere south of his waist. She waved a finger in a circular motion aimed just below and slightly left of his belt buckle. “When was the last time you got a little…you know?”
Christ Jesus, was she checking out his package? Holy hell, maybe this was what that fountain had brought him. No more quarter tossing. No matter what. “That’s not relevant. What’s your name?”
She tsked and shook her head. “Your chakras are telling the story, my friend. Listen up. It’s not good to stay all bottled up for too long. You’ve got some problems there in the sacral chakra.”
“The sack what?”
“The sacral chakra. It’s your reservoir of sexual energy. When that chakra is under-active, it usually shows in your face. And believe me, I could look up poker face in the dictionary and find a picture of you, which means yours is pent up like a dam. It should be bright orange and vibrate to the musical note D.” She spun around and grabbed a guitar from just inside the
Teague was in no big hurry to run off the poor folks just doing a little Walmart to Walmart camping spree across the country. They never caused any problems, but that new manager was such a stickler for the law, and all that had done was keep Teague and his deputy busy with silly calls like this. A waste of good time and the county’s money.
He stopped by his house and picked up his tackle box and fishing pole. With everything he’d need, including a six pack and wigglers in a cooler, he headed off to handle his last task of the day.
The Walmart parking lot was crowded, but even so he didn’t need to go in and talk to the manager to figure out who the culprit was.
The sunshine yellow VW bus took up two spaces off to the far side of the lot. The old vehicle wasn’t in the way, but next to it stood an open market umbrella with a cooler and lawn chair. A bright purple rug sprawled alongside, and a long lean blonde in a colorful skirt and skintight tank top was stretched out in a pose that, from where he sat, looked like a cross between an Egyptian hieroglyphic and a burglar on the run.
Okay, so this could be distracting.
He parked and headed over to her. She moved from pose to pose and didn’t seem to notice that he was standing right in front of her.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
The woman, who he’d assumed was in her late twenties from a distance, straightened and turned to face him. He slowed for a moment. She was no kid. With the fine lines around her mouth, she had to be in her fifties or older.
Her face spread into a perfect smile. “Greetings, my friend. Isn’t it a glorious day?”
Perfect for fishing. Let’s make this quick. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to pack up and move along, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“There’s no boondocking allowed in this parking lot.”
The woman folded to the fetal position with her chin tucked tight to her knees. Her strawberry blonde hair nearly touched the ground around her.
“Ma’am? I’m talking to you.”
She slowly rose with her palms together and fingers pointed to her feet. “But I’ve stayed in Walmarts all over this beautiful country. No one has minded before.”
“I’m sorry about that. There’s a nice little inn up the street.”
“I’ve got a place to sleep.” She pointed toward her van. “Right here.”
“That might be the case, but you can’t do it in this parking lot.”
She raised her hands to the sky and inhaled. He stood there waiting and wondering what the heck she would do next. She blew out an exaggerated breath, like she was blowing away a bad smell.
He took a step back.
“Could you let me just stay a day or two?” she asked. “Please?”
“I can’t.”
She looked him over, starting at his Astros baseball cap, meandering down his jeans to his boots and back up. Her gaze never returned to his face, but stalled somewhere south of his waist. She waved a finger in a circular motion aimed just below and slightly left of his belt buckle. “When was the last time you got a little…you know?”
Christ Jesus, was she checking out his package? Holy hell, maybe this was what that fountain had brought him. No more quarter tossing. No matter what. “That’s not relevant. What’s your name?”
She tsked and shook her head. “Your chakras are telling the story, my friend. Listen up. It’s not good to stay all bottled up for too long. You’ve got some problems there in the sacral chakra.”
“The sack what?”
“The sacral chakra. It’s your reservoir of sexual energy. When that chakra is under-active, it usually shows in your face. And believe me, I could look up poker face in the dictionary and find a picture of you, which means yours is pent up like a dam. It should be bright orange and vibrate to the musical note D.” She spun around and grabbed a guitar from just inside the
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