Читать книгу Penny Sue Got Lucky - BEVERLY BARTON, Beverly Barton - Страница 12

Vic led Penny Sue into the front parlor, then paused just past the threshold. A horde of Paine relatives buzzed about inside the room like a swarm of busy bees, all with a common goal, some with their stingers ready to strike. But which family members were deadly and which totally harmless? Who had shot Lucky? Who wanted to kill the millionaire dog? And who had left the little surprise package on the front porch tonight? The answer to all four questions could well be the same, but what if there was more than one perpetrator, more than one heir willing to kill Lottie Paine’s dog in order to receive their inheritance now instead of waiting for old age to claim Lucky’s life?

“Should I call Dr. Stone’s office and check on Lucky?” Penny Sue asked Vic. “You don’t think that might have been Lucky’s blood on the stuffed dog, do you?”

“My guess is that Lucky’s fine. Otherwise the vet’s office would have contacted you,” Vic told her. “As for the blood—it’s probably animal blood, but I doubt it’s Lucky’s.”

“Oh look, everyone,” Dottie Paine said exuberantly. “Here’s our Penny Sue and she has Mr. Noble with her. Come on in, you two.” Dottie waved them forward with a sweep of her hand, as if presenting a royal couple to their subjects.

All heads turned in their direction. Instinctively Vic slipped his arm around Penny Sue’s waist. On some basic, primeval level he sensed she needed protection from these people. Just a gut reaction, but heeding his instincts had saved his life in the past. Everything within him sensed danger.

No one is going to harm Penny Sue, an inner voice said.

But she’s not the one in danger, he reminded himself. The victim is Lucky. So why was it that he felt so strongly that Penny Sue needed him?

“We’re ready to start the meeting.” Dottie fluttered about like a nervous butterfly, bestowing smiles on everyone. “Penny Sue, dear…”

“I believe Valerie called this meeting.” Penny Sue glowered at the long, lean blonde sitting on the sofa beside a stocky, rosy-cheeked man Vic assumed was her husband. “Since everyone is here, why don’t you start things off by telling the family why you’re so concerned.”

Valerie rose to her full five foot eight, scanned the faces of everyone assembled and paused on Vic. She let her gaze linger for a moment too long, her mannerisms sending out sexual signals. The woman might be married, but he figured that didn’t stop her from flirting with other men. And she was well aware of what she was doing, unlike Penny Sue, to whom flirting came as naturally as breathing and was as genuine as her smile.

“As we all know, Lucky was the victim of a terrible accident,” Valerie said, then looked away from Vic. “But Penny Sue has convinced herself that one of us tried to kill him.”

A roar of protest rose quickly.

“Penny Sue hasn’t accused anyone,” Dottie reminded the others. “She simply feels—”

“I can speak for myself,” Penny Sue said. “I believe that someone with something to gain if Lucky dies took it upon himself—or herself—to dispose of the only thing standing between all of us and rather sizable inheritances.”

Penny Sue looked pointedly at Valerie, who gasped silently and glanced around so that the others could see the shocked expression on her face.

Some grumbled angrily while others sat quietly, as if afraid that speaking out might cast suspicion on them. Vic studied the group, one by one. Valerie and her husband protested the loudest and Eula Paine appeared to be the least agitated.

An elderly, rather distinguished gentleman standing in the corner of the room cleared his throat loudly, then spoke up. “For what it’s worth, I agree with Penny Sue. Someone, probably someone in this room, tried to kill Lucky.”

More grumbling ensued, the family members jabbering among themselves, complaining that they’d been lumped together as possible dog-killers.

“Who is he?” Vic asked, keeping his voice low so that only Penny Sue could hear him.

“That’s Uncle Willie. Wilfred Hopkins, Aunt Lottie’s lawyer.”

“Hmm…”

“I need to make it perfectly clear that if anyone is caught trying to harm Lucky, that person will not inherit one cent from Lottie,” Wilfred said.

Various people responded, all of them talking at once. Vic picked up on more than one voice saying, “if the person is caught.” Why was it that people intent on perpetrating a crime—be it armed robbery or the murder of a millionaire dog—always thought they could get away with it, that they were too smart to get caught?

Valerie waved her hands frantically, 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.