BEVERLY BARTON

Penny Sue Got Lucky


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trying unsuccessfully to gain everyone’s attention. Finally, exasperated, she let out a long, loud whistle.

      Dead silence.

      “Whether or not someone intentionally shot Lucky is not why I called this meeting,” Valerie said. “Well, perhaps indirectly it is, but it’s not the main reason.”

      “Just what is?” another elderly man asked.

      “That’s Uncle Douglas,” Penny Sue told Vic. “He’s my father’s brother.”

      Vic nodded. He was beginning to feel as if he needed a scorecard. Not counting Dottie, Penny Sue and him, there were ten people present. Wilfred Hopkins, Lottie’s lawyer, Valerie and Dylan Redley, Eula Paine, Clayton and Phyllis Dickson, Douglas Paine and his wife Candy and his two adult children, Stacie and Chris.

      As he studied Douglas Paine, he saw a strong family resemblance between him and his sister Dottie. Where Dottie kept her hair dyed black, Douglas had allowed his to go salt-and-pepper, but their facial features were almost identical—the dark, sparkling eyes, the naturally tan complexion, the lean build, the wide mouths and prominent chins.

      “Penny Sue has hired a very expensive bodyguard for Lucky,” Valerie told the others. “I assume that’s him. The man Aunt Dottie called Mr. Noble.”

      Everyone turned and stared at Vic, some hostilely, others simply curiously. He had the oddest notion that he should take a bow.

      “And she intends to use Aunt Lottie’s money to pay for this man’s services,” the stocky, red-faced man said, an indignant look on his face.

      “That’s Dylan Redley,” Penny Sue whispered. “He’s Valerie’s second husband and my former fiancé.”

      That bit of information settled in Vic’s stomach like a lead weight. Without responding to her comment, he focused on the man in question. The guy looked like a former jock who’d allowed easy living and the approach of middle age to turn his once muscular body into blubber.

      By his ruddy cheeks, Vic assumed one of three things—either the guy spent a great deal of time outdoors or he was a heavy drinker or he was plagued by rosacea.

      “Let me guess,” Vic said. “He played high-school football. He was captain of the team and you were homecoming queen.”

      Penny Sue’s mouth gaped open wide. “How did you know that?”

      “Just a guess.” Vic decided then and there that he did not like Dylan Redley.

      Douglas Paine called out to his niece, “Penny Sue, is that true? Do you intend to waste our inheritance on a bodyguard for Lottie’s dog?”

      “Yes, that’s exactly what I intend to do,” she replied. “As a matter of fact, that’s what I’ve done. And until whoever tried to kill Lucky is caught and disinherited, Vic—Mr. Noble—will be guarding Lucky around the clock.”

      “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” The comment came from a man in his mid-forties with a robust voice. “You have no right to—”

      “That’s where you’re wrong, Cousin Clayton,” Penny Sue said. “I have every right to do whatever is necessary to keep Lucky safe and that includes spending every dime of the money Aunt Lottie left him to see that he lives to a ripe old age.”

      “You can’t mean that you’ll keep a bodyguard for Lucky as long as he lives,” the bosomy redhead practically sitting in Douglas Paine’s lap said.

      “Now y’all see why I’m concerned.” Valerie smiled triumphantly. “Penny Sue has lost her mind. She shouldn’t be in control of Aunt Lottie’s fortune if she plans…”

      Suddenly everyone started talking at once, each with a specific opinion, the majority apparently as upset with Penny Sue as Valerie was. When they started coming toward her, accusing her of being as loony as Lottie and demanding she rethink her position, Penny Sue stood her ground.

      “If everyone would be quiet—” Penny Sue tried to talk above the incessant clamor.

      “Hush…please…everyone…” Aunt Dottie’s pleas fell on deaf ears.

      “I have every legal right to take care of Lucky,” Penny Sue told them in a loud voice. “As far as I’m concerned this meeting is over. If you have any complaints, take them up with Uncle Willie.”

      “Or with me,” Vic said.

      The room quieted. Everyone focused on him.

      Now was the time for him to step in and lay down some ground rules. Although he hadn’t been hired to defend Penny Sue Paine against her greedy relatives, that was just what he intended to do.

      “I’m Vic Noble, with the Dundee Private Security and Investigation agency, based in Atlanta, Georgia. Be forewarned—I’ve been hired by Ms. Paine to guard her dog twenty-four/seven. And our agency will also be investigating Lucky’s shooting. Each of you will be checked out thoroughly, everything from your whereabouts when Lucky was shot to any past history of abuse of animals.” Vic threw in that last comment for good measure. “I also plan to retrieve the bullet from Dr. Stone and have a ballistic test run on it. If we can find the weapon, we’ll have our shooter. And the pet carrier and bloody stuffed dog left on the front porch tonight will also be gone over thoroughly at our Dundee lab.”

      Utter silence prevailed.

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