as saucers and her mouth gaped into an outraged oval.
“Close your mouth, dear,” Eula said, “before you start catching flies.”
Val shut her mouth, then opened it again, wide enough to speak. “Seven o’clock, at Aunt Dottie’s. She’s graciously agreed to allow us to meet in her home since my house is rather small.”
“How very gracious of Aunt Dottie to offer her home, especially considering that she’s living in Aunt Lottie’s house, which, by the way, is now my home. Mine and Lucky’s.”
“But I thought you moved back to your place after Lucky was shot,” Val said. “I naturally assumed—”
“Never assume,” Penny Sue told her. “I simply took the opportunity to go back to my place and start packing in order to make the move into the Paine mansion permanent.”
“Oh, I see.”
Penny Sue barely managed to hide the smile beginning to curve her lips. Every member of the family had wanted the house, but Aunt Lottie, who had owned it free and clear, had left the house to Penny Sue, with the provision that both Lucky and Dottie be allowed to live there for the remainder of their lives. The Paine mansion was the biggest and best house in town. Built in the early 1880s, the three-story Victorian house boasted wide porches, two circular towers and a profusion of elaborate gingerbread trim. Aunt Lottie had chosen to paint the place in various shades of green and pink. Nothing gaudy, just colors that were appropriate for the style and design of the house. Original paint colors, true to the Victorian era.
Eula reached out and patted Val on the shoulder. “We’ll see you tonight then, dear. At seven. At Penny Sue’s house.”
Val forced a smile before jerking around and stomping out of the shop.
The minute the bell over the door chimed, Hazel Carruthers rushed toward Penny Sue and Eula.
“I…uh…I’ll come back later and discuss redecorating the bedroom. I do apologize for being present while y’all discussed family matters. But I swear not a word of what I heard will go one bit further. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
Penny Sue and Eula exchanged yeah-sure-tell-me-another-one glances. Hazel hurried out of the shop, as if her butt was on fire. The first person she met once outside on the sidewalk was Stella Lowrance, the owner of the Cut and Curl beauty salon.
Penny Sue groaned, then shook her head and laughed.
“Well, the family’s personal business will be front-page news by suppertime tonight,” Eula said. “The two biggest busybodies in town are Hazel and Stella. Everybody’s going to know that you’ve hired a bodyguard for Lucky and that most of the family members aren’t happy about it. We’ll be the talk of the town.”
Penny Sue shrugged. “Everybody in town would have known anyway. It seems Tanya over at Doc Stone’s is telling everyone she sees. Besides, what do we care what other people say about us? The Paines have been the talk of Alabaster Creek for several generations. I can’t imagine what the good citizens would find to talk about if not for us.”
Vic slowed the rental car, a mid-size black Chevy, as he entered the downtown area of Alabaster Creek. Apparently a recent renovation of the area had restored many of the old buildings to their original splendor, giving Main Street the look of a bygone era. Underground utilities, trees and shrubs on every corner and gas-lamp-style streetlights added to the ambience. He drove slowly up the street, glancing at the shops on his left. He passed a bakery, a drugstore/ice cream parlor, a hardware store and—Penny Sue’s Pretties. He whipped the car into a parking place, the only empty one on the block, at the very end of the street. He should probably take the time to read over the file folder Daisy had given him on Ms. Paine, but there should be time enough for that tonight. He could have read the file on the plane from Atlanta, but the flight had lasted less than thirty minutes, so he’d opted for a quick nap. When he’d phoned Ms. Paine from the Huntsville airport, she’d told him that they wouldn’t be picking up Lucky until tomorrow, so he wouldn’t be on official bodyguard duty until then.
“The family is having a meeting tonight,” she’d said. “Some of them disapprove of my hiring you. I intend for us to be there and I want you to make it clear that you’ll be investigating the crime and bringing the person who shot Lucky to justice.”
Vic grunted as he got out of the car and stepped up on the sidewalk. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dogs. He did. As a boy, raised in the backwoods of Kentucky, near the Tennessee border, he’d known men who thought more of their hunting dogs than they did their wives. He’d even had a dog himself when he was a kid. But Old Beau had slept outside and eaten scraps from the table. In the dead cold of winter, he found a spot under the floor near the gas furnace to stay warm. People of Vic’s acquaintance didn’t pamper dogs, didn’t treat them like they were humans. And they sure as hell didn’t leave them twenty-three million dollars.
He paused before entering Ms. Paine’s shop, a two-story structure painted pale yellow, with a bright blue awning over the entrance and two huge display windows flanking either side of the glass door, the wooden trim also a bright blue. Hanging on the brick wall at the second-story level were large bright blue wooden letters that spelled out Penny Sue’s Pretties. As he glanced into the display windows, he noted a variety of items, from an antique chair covered in a floral material to scented candles and an assortment of toiletries. Scattered throughout the other items on display was an assortment of Easter items, such as baskets, hand-painted porcelain eggs and toy bunny rabbits.
Just the thought of going inside this store made him shiver. He avoided “girlie” places like the plague. His idea of hell on earth was going shopping with a woman. Any woman. He appreciated seeing a woman in a sheer silk teddy and lying on satin sheets as much as the next man, just so long as he didn’t have to go with her to shop for her undies or her bed linens.
Drawing in a deep, you-can-do-this breath, Vic reached for the door handle. The minute he opened the door, he heard a bell tinkling. Oh, God! Looking up, he saw the little silver bell attached to the facing over the door so that any entrance to or exit from the shop would trigger the chime. After stepping into the shop overflowing with wall-to-wall “pretties,” Vic scanned the interior. There were half a dozen shoppers, each carrying a yellow straw basket approximately twelve-by-twenty inches in size. Then he saw the person he assumed was Ms. Paine standing with one of the customers, pointing out the superiority of soy candles over wax candles.
“These are a new line of candles that we just started carrying a couple of weeks ago,” Ms. Paine said. “They’re clean-burning and soot-free. You must smell this one.” She picked up a glass container, popped off the lid and held it under the customer’s nose. “Cinnamon. Isn’t it heavenly?”
Vic cleared his throat. Both women looked at him.
“Yes, sir, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Ms. Paine smiled at him.
Vic nodded, then tried his best to be as inconspicuous as possible, which wasn’t easy for a guy who stood six-four. For a couple of minutes he stared down at the wooden floor, then he hazarded a glance to the right and then to the left. In both directions, he saw women staring at him, sizing him up, whispering about the stranger in town. At least he figured that was what they were whispering about. Cutting his gaze sharply toward the ceiling, he tightened his hands into fists. He released, then tightened, then released again.
How long did it take to sell a woman a damn candle? When he glanced in Ms. Paine’s direction, he noted that she was leading the customer toward the glass counter at the front of the shop where a computerized cash register waited to ring up the sale. Ms. Paine looked older than she’d sounded on the phone. Her voice had been bubbly. And soft and slightly sexy. He’d imagined her to be in her twenties or thirties. But this lady had to be in her fifties. In her younger days, she’d probably been pretty. Even now, with short gray hair and tiny wrinkles framing her eyes and mouth, she was attractive, in a neat and orderly sort of way.
Vic headed for the checkout counter just as Ms. Paine rounded the corner and came toward him.
“Yes,