Read Online The Possum Hollow Hullabaloo (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) by Judy Nickles - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Judy Nickles
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what I want.”
“A Reuben and a beer. What about the rest of you?”
“I’ll have the same,” Sam said.
“Club sandwich and a bottle of water,” Penelope said. “And some of those great chips you order in.”
She noticed Sam seemed to be scanning the sparsely-populated room, with more attention toward the back door than the front. What does he know? Is something going to happen? Surely he wouldn’t have brought Daddy and me here if there was going to be trouble. She tapped her foot to Glenn Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and watched a young couple make their way to the empty space reserved for dancing.
“You going to light the fireplace tonight, Mike?” Jake asked when the owner came back with their order.
“It’s almost cold enough but not quite,” Mike said.
“Vincent Ives laying low these days?”
“I think somebody laid him about as low as he could get,” Mike said. “Millie’s still skittish about getting too close to the fireplace when she’s in here alone.”
Sam played dumb. “Trouble with the fireplace?”
“It’s a long story,” Mike said, plopping two bottles of beer on the scarred wooden table. “Get Jake and Penelope to tell it to you.”
“Funny, Sam,” Penelope said, trying not to move her lips. “Real funny.”
He winked. “I’m just sorry I missed the bones in the basement.”
“I bet you are. Your taste runs to bodies.”
A mask closed off his face. He picked up the beer and took a long swallow.
Now what did I say? He deals with bodies all the time. I never saw one bother him, even Harvey Hadden propped up on that brass bed in Miss Madeline’s room, with his eyes open and the blood running down his face… Penelope closed her eyes against the memory and eyed her sandwich with distaste.
Later, she watched Sam stand in front of the jukebox and scan the selections. He dropped in a coin and punched a button. The strains of “Tennessee Waltz” filled the room. “Dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Moving in Sam’s arms was exhilarating—and slightly uncomfortable when she thought of his penchant for suggestive remarks. He folded her hand inside his and rested his chin on top of her head as he maneuvered her expertly around the floor.
Where did you learn to dance like this? Who did you dance with? Will this be last time you dance with me? Will you remember this night, Sam? I’ll remember so many nights with you. Oh, not like you want to remember them but just being near you…just wanting you and wishing…
The front door flew open, ushering in a blast of cool air and the large unkempt presence of Jeremiah Hadden. “I want my kids!” he yelled, waving a shotgun in the air before zeroing in on Penelope frozen in Sam’s arms. “You got no right to take my kids! Give ‘em back! Give ‘em back now!” The sound of the gun discharging, followed by a shower of plaster from the ceiling above Penelope, spurred the surprised patrons to action. Three men tackled Jeremiah from behind, but Sam got there first.
****
After Parnell hauled Jeremiah out and off, Rosabel took statements from everyone. Mike declared the Sit-n-Swill closed. “I’ll help you clean up,” Penelope offered. “It was my fault he was in here.”
“How do you figure?” Mike asked.
Rosabel tucked her notebook back into her pocket. “Not really,” she said, giving Penelope a look that meant don’t explain. “The damage to your ceiling doesn’t look serious, Mr. Dancer, but I’d recommend calling your insurance agent on Monday.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that, Officer Deane…Officer Pembroke.”
She smiled, showing her dimples and a slight blush. “I still use Deane at work.” She tucked her arm through Penelope’s and started for the door. “Sam sticking around awhile?”
Penelope shrugged. “How should I know?”
“Brad gave Bert Hadden what-for, so he won’t be bothering you, and I don’t expect we’ll be turning Jeremiah loose anytime soon, at least until
“A Reuben and a beer. What about the rest of you?”
“I’ll have the same,” Sam said.
“Club sandwich and a bottle of water,” Penelope said. “And some of those great chips you order in.”
She noticed Sam seemed to be scanning the sparsely-populated room, with more attention toward the back door than the front. What does he know? Is something going to happen? Surely he wouldn’t have brought Daddy and me here if there was going to be trouble. She tapped her foot to Glenn Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and watched a young couple make their way to the empty space reserved for dancing.
“You going to light the fireplace tonight, Mike?” Jake asked when the owner came back with their order.
“It’s almost cold enough but not quite,” Mike said.
“Vincent Ives laying low these days?”
“I think somebody laid him about as low as he could get,” Mike said. “Millie’s still skittish about getting too close to the fireplace when she’s in here alone.”
Sam played dumb. “Trouble with the fireplace?”
“It’s a long story,” Mike said, plopping two bottles of beer on the scarred wooden table. “Get Jake and Penelope to tell it to you.”
“Funny, Sam,” Penelope said, trying not to move her lips. “Real funny.”
He winked. “I’m just sorry I missed the bones in the basement.”
“I bet you are. Your taste runs to bodies.”
A mask closed off his face. He picked up the beer and took a long swallow.
Now what did I say? He deals with bodies all the time. I never saw one bother him, even Harvey Hadden propped up on that brass bed in Miss Madeline’s room, with his eyes open and the blood running down his face… Penelope closed her eyes against the memory and eyed her sandwich with distaste.
Later, she watched Sam stand in front of the jukebox and scan the selections. He dropped in a coin and punched a button. The strains of “Tennessee Waltz” filled the room. “Dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Moving in Sam’s arms was exhilarating—and slightly uncomfortable when she thought of his penchant for suggestive remarks. He folded her hand inside his and rested his chin on top of her head as he maneuvered her expertly around the floor.
Where did you learn to dance like this? Who did you dance with? Will this be last time you dance with me? Will you remember this night, Sam? I’ll remember so many nights with you. Oh, not like you want to remember them but just being near you…just wanting you and wishing…
The front door flew open, ushering in a blast of cool air and the large unkempt presence of Jeremiah Hadden. “I want my kids!” he yelled, waving a shotgun in the air before zeroing in on Penelope frozen in Sam’s arms. “You got no right to take my kids! Give ‘em back! Give ‘em back now!” The sound of the gun discharging, followed by a shower of plaster from the ceiling above Penelope, spurred the surprised patrons to action. Three men tackled Jeremiah from behind, but Sam got there first.
****
After Parnell hauled Jeremiah out and off, Rosabel took statements from everyone. Mike declared the Sit-n-Swill closed. “I’ll help you clean up,” Penelope offered. “It was my fault he was in here.”
“How do you figure?” Mike asked.
Rosabel tucked her notebook back into her pocket. “Not really,” she said, giving Penelope a look that meant don’t explain. “The damage to your ceiling doesn’t look serious, Mr. Dancer, but I’d recommend calling your insurance agent on Monday.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that, Officer Deane…Officer Pembroke.”
She smiled, showing her dimples and a slight blush. “I still use Deane at work.” She tucked her arm through Penelope’s and started for the door. “Sam sticking around awhile?”
Penelope shrugged. “How should I know?”
“Brad gave Bert Hadden what-for, so he won’t be bothering you, and I don’t expect we’ll be turning Jeremiah loose anytime soon, at least until
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