The Feed Store Floozy (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) by Judy Nickles Page A

husband would like to make it worth my while not to write the story.”
    Penelope’s head snapped up. “That’s extortion, you know.”
    “Whatever. Go run to sonny boy and tell him. It’s my word against yours.”
    “I heard you, too,” Mary Lynn said.
    Jill laughed and walked away, hips swaying.
    “What could she possibly write that she’d think Harry would want to pay her not to write?” Penelope asked.
    “He’s r esigned himself to the fact the story’s going to come out.”
    “His great-grandfather made his money in a saloon. So what?”
    “And from what went on upstairs.”
    “So what?”
    “If it was your family, you’d understand.”
    “Oh, for blessed Pete’s sake, Mary Lynn, nobody cares.”
    Mary Lynn sagged against the back of her chair. “Harry does.”
    “Harry needs to get a grip.”
    “I’ve told him that.”
    “Maybe there’s more he isn’t telling you.”
    “I think…Harry and I have always shared everything, Pen, but now…now, I don’t know.”
    ****
    Penelope left Mary Lynn at her car and walked to the library. As she passed the antique store, Brice hailed her from the door. She crossed the street reluctantly. “Hello, Brice.”
    “Do you have a minute?”
    “One or two.”
    He stood aside so I could precede him into the store. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”
    “I’d have to say so.”
    “I apologized to Hal and Harry.”
    “I heard.”
    “I guess you also heard I was picked up because Jill accused me of…”
    Penelope held up her hand to silence him. “I heard that, too.”
    “She didn’t exactly recant, but your son has let the matter drop.”
    “She’s not very reliable, is she?”
    “Worse than that, Penelope.”
    I don’t really want to hear this.
    “When we were in college, we were, well, an item. That’s before I ever met Darcy.”
    “An item.”
    He didn’t look at her. “I broke it off, when I figured she was working both sides of the fence with Wally Powers. He was going to be a big-time journalist, and she had aspirations of being the same only with photography.”
    “They both made it, I guess.”
    “She took the pictures for his first few articles, the one that drew attention to him as an investigative reporter, but she never felt she got enough credit—or money.”
    “I see.”
    “I don’t think you do.” Brice perched on the edge of a battered desk. “She kept working for him, and he kept paying her just enough to keep her coming back, making promises that the next story would be the big one for her. It never happened. When she tried to branch out on her own, she couldn’t get much. Oh, she did enough business to make a living, but it wasn’t the kind of business she wanted.”
    “Photojournalism. Investigative journalism.”
    “Right.” He chewed his lip. “I didn’t exactly get Wally in on this on purpose. I ran into him in a bar in Little Rock right after I discovered what was upstairs. We talked over old times and both of us had too much to drink. When I told him what I’d found, he was full of plans to make it a big story. I think he thought he could dig up dirt on the families of people who lived here now.”
    “Like Miss Maude Pendleton?”
    “You heard about that, huh? I tried to warn him.”
    “He’s lucky she didn’t beat him to death with that ancient umbrella.” She caught her breath. “Or maybe he’d have been better off if she’d run him all the way out of town.”
    “You don’t…didn’t… run off Wally Powers. Nothing scared him. Believe me, I tried to get him to leave when he started getting on the wrong side of people.”
    “Didn’t you know he’d do that?”
    “I guess I did, Penelope, but…I don’t know, I had this thing about Harry. Stupid, wasn’t it?”
    “Very.”
    “Wally hung onto this like a dog with a bone, and when Jill showed up—I hadn’t seen her since we graduated from college, at least not up close.”
    “Okay.”
    “She made a play for me right off