# Penny Sue Got Lucky

BEVERLY BARTON

When Penny Sue Paine got Lucky, everyone was in an uproar. Because Lucky was the sweet-faced dog who had inherited the Paine millions! Now somebody wanted Lucky dead. So Penny Sue hired herself a tall, well-muscled hunk of a bodyguard….When Vic Noble found out his latest client was a dog, he nearly lost his cool. Then he got an eyeful of Miss Penny Sue Paine, a brunette with a body to die for and an innocence that could do a lesser man in. Good thing Vic was about as tough as they made 'em. But the tougher they are–the harder they fall!

## So this was Penny Sue Paine? Guardian to Lucky, the multi-millionaire dog?

She stared at Vic with huge, chocolate-brown eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes. Her features were almost too perfect. Small, tip-tilted nose. Full luscious lips. Oval face. Flawless olive complexion. And a mane of dark, auburn-brown hair that flowed around her slender shoulders.

And her body. Holy hell. The body was to-die-for. No more than five-four, with an hourglass shape. Tiny waist, rounded hips and high, full breasts.

“Are you all right, Mr. Noble?” she asked.

“Uh…yeah, I’m fine.”

“Then perhaps we should get started. What would you like to do first?” Penny Sue asked.

What would he like to do first?

I’d like to make love to you, Miss Penny Sue. That’s what I’d like to do.

Dear Reader,

Like my heroine, Penny Sue Paine, I was born into a fairly typical Southern family, with predecessors ranging from highly respected doctors and wealthy landowners to a notorious outlaw who died on the gallows. And like Penny Sue, I am blessed with a group of marvelously eccentric relatives, a writer’s treasure trove of unique characters.

Did I draw from real life to create Penny Sue and her family? You bet I did. Is any one character based on a real person? No, of course not. Doesn’t everyone have kinfolk who’ve squabbled over a sizable (and even a not-so-sizable) inheritance? I think most of us have relatives that we both love and hate, that we’re sometimes ashamed of and occasionally frustrated and angry with, but when push comes to shove, we stand by them when they need us. For a lot of us Southerners, that Scots-Irish clan mentality is an inherited trait. Without a doubt, there is a little bit of Penny Sue in me and many of my female cousins. From childhood, we were taught good manners, good taste and a strong sense of responsibility. We steel magnolias take care of our own.

Warmest regards,

Beverly Barton

## Penny Sue Got Lucky. Beverly Barton


www.millsandboon.co.uk

## BEVERLY BARTON

has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at the age of nine. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. The author of over thirty-five books, Beverly is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter in Alabama. She has won numerous awards and has made the Waldenbooks and USA TODAY bestseller lists.

To my cousins, Sue Elkins and Penny Von Boeckman.

There is a little bit of Penny Sue in both of you, in me and in so many of our other female relatives, steel magnolias every one. Here’s to all true Southern belles, past, present and future. Sometimes gentleness is the greatest strength of all.

## Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

## Prologue

Did you ever want to disown your entire family? I mean every last one of them. Or at the very least trade them in for another family? It’s not as if I don’t love them, although lately they’ve tried my patience almost to the breaking point. And I’m not an impatient person. Just ask anyone who knows me. Even my worst enemy—if I had one—would tell you that Penny Sue Paine has the patience of a saint. But I swear a saint would lose patience with this bunch. Of course, I’m not a saint, not by any stretch of the imagination. I am, however, a good person. I always— and I mean always—send thank-you notes. I give blood on a regular basis. I teach a Sunday-school class for preschoolers. I never wear white shoes after Labor Day or before Easter. I would not be caught dead in public without my makeup on and my hair fixed. I don’t curse. Unless you count saying “Lord have mercy!” as cursing. I never destroy anything of worth when I’m finally pushed to my limit and start breaking things. Except once—I accidently shoved my hand through the glass front door at Grandmother Paine’s house. Of course I was only three at the time and hadn’t learned to control my temper. And I do not throw hissy fits in public, which is no small feat, let me tell you, because the Paine women are known throughout the county for their royal hissy fits. Well, there was that one time when the Country Kettle was out of glazed carrots and I got a tad upset. After all, who ever heard of a restaurant that specializes in vegetable plates running out of carrots before the dinner crowd arrives? But I’m getting off the subject, aren’t I? I was explaining why I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with my family, wasn’t I? Aunt Lottie always said digression was one of my weaknesses.

“Get to the point,” Aunt Lottie would say. “Stop digressing.” Then she’d glance over at Aunt Dottie and say, “It’s a weakness you inherited from her, the silly goose.”

Aunt Dottie would giggle and reply, “I’m not a silly goose. I simply have an effervescent personality. And giving all the details when telling a story is a family trait I inherited from Daddy, so it has to be a good trait, doesn’t it, since Daddy was such a good man.”

Aunt Lottie would roll her eyes and mumble something unintelligible.

God love ’em both. Lottie was the elder twin, born five whole minutes before Dottie. Although they were identical, no one had ever mistaken one for the other. Grandmother Paine never dressed them alike, not even as toddlers, which set a precedent in their lives, allowing them to be individuals. Lottie was the brains, Dottie the beauty. Lottie was serious-minded, Dottie was frivolous. Lottie took a nice little inheritance from her parents and turned it into millions by making shrewd investments. On the other hand, what money Dottie didn’t spend on clothes, cars, fancy vacations and cosmetic surgery, she lost to a conniving swindler who stole not only her money but her heart. So, in their old age, Lottie financially supported her younger sister.

Oh, dear me. I’m digressing again.

Back to the current situation with my family.

I suppose the problem began when Aunt Lottie passed away. Well, actually, the problem began when Uncle Willie—that’s Wilfred Hopkins, Aunt Lottie’s lawyer, who isn’t actually a blood relative—read the will. His wife, Aunt Pattie, is dog-tail kin to us, of course, her mother having been a first cousin to Grandmother Paine. And in case you don’t know what dog-tail kin is—it’s when you’re distantly related, enough so that if you had a mind to, you could actually marry each other. That is if one was a man and the other a woman.

But as I said, the will is what caused the problem. We were assembled in the front parlor of Aunt Lottie’s Victorian house on First Street—Aunt Dottie, Uncle Douglas, all the cousins and me—when Uncle Willie dropped the bombshell. Even I was surprised, but I shouldn’t have been. After all, I knew better than anyone how much Aunt Lottie had loved Lucky.

You know, come to think of it, the root of the current problem actually began nearly four years ago. And I’m not digressing again. Really I’m not. To fully understand why Aunt Lottie did what she did, you have to understand things from the beginning. Well, not actually the beginning, since I wasn’t there when Lucky was born, but… Okay, I was digressing there a bit, wasn’t I?

It all started when Topper died. Topper was Aunt Lottie’s black cocker spaniel. If you look up the term spoiled rotten in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of Topper right there beside the definition. I suppose having no husband and no children would make a woman love her pets more than most people did. And from childhood, Aunt Lottie had been a dog person and Aunt Dottie a cat person. When I was a child, Skippy had ruled the roost. He was Aunt Lottie’s feisty little half feist, half Chihuahua. He went to puppy-dog heaven when I was eighteen and my father, the younger of the twins’ two brothers, had promptly purchased Topper as a Christmas gift for his grieving sister. Within days, Topper had become top dog in every way, and until his dying day, he lived a life most humans would envy. Even Daddy often said that when he died, he wanted to come back as one of Lottie’s dogs. And truth be told, on more than one occasion, I’ve wondered if maybe at least part of Daddy’s spirit hasn’t returned in Lucky. I’ve never told a living soul about that. We Paines are considered the town eccentrics as is. No need to add fuel to the flames.

I know. I know. I’m digressing again.

When Topper died, Aunt Lottie was inconsolable. She hadn’t carried on half as bad when Daddy had died two years before, and he was her favorite brother. She loved Uncle Douglas well enough, but she’d said it herself, “Percy can be counted on. Douglas can’t be.”

One of my favorite charities is Animal Haven. It’s Alabaster Creek, Alabama’s equivalent to the dog pound, I suppose. Although Animal Haven shelters all sorts of animals, cats and dogs make up the bulk of their residents. I volunteer one afternoon a week at the shelter and back about four years ago, this precious little puppy, who had been abused by his previous owner, was dropped on the doorstep, the pitiful thing half-dead. The minute I told Aunt Lottie about the mongrel pup, she not only paid the vet’s bills, but after taking one look at the puppy, she adopted him that very day.

After Doc Stone had given him a clean bill of health, Aunt Lottie had lifted the puppy into her arms, stroked his little head and said, “Well, mutt, you’re one lucky dog. I’m taking you home with me.” And that’s how Lucky got his name.

Now, I’m not saying that Aunt Lottie loved Lucky more than any of her previous dogs, but there’s something special about Lucky. He’s not just smart, he’s super-smart. And he’s gentle and loving. Real friendly. And he adored Aunt Lottie. Actually the only flaw Lucky has is his intolerance of Puff, Aunt Dottie’s cat. But then again, nobody likes that darn cat except Aunt Dottie.

Now, this brings me back to when Uncle Willie read Aunt Lottie’s last will and testament, two months ago. I can still see Aunt Dottie swooning over in a dead faint. And Uncle Douglas’s face turning beet-red as he struggled for words. I’m not sure who whined the loudest or the longest, but I think it was probably Cousin Valerie. She and her hubby, Dylan Redley, were counting on inheriting a sizable chunk of Aunt Lottie’s fortune. They and their demon child, Dylan III—whom they call Trey—even moved home to Alabaster Creek two years ago so they could suck up to Aunt Lottie.

One little thing you should know about Dylan Redley. He was my high-school sweetheart and my fiancé. Yes, he’s the one who ran off with the preacher’s wife right before our wedding. And yes, my second cousin, Valerie, was the preacher’s wife.

I know, I know. I’m digressing again. I can almost hear Aunt Lottie saying, “Stop rattling and get to the point, Penny Sue.”

Well, the point is that Aunt Lottie left her entire twenty-three million dollars to Lucky. That’s what I said. My aunt left her very sizable fortune to her dog. I was surprised. The other family members were shocked. Some were outraged. And the whole town of Alabaster Creek found the turn of events quite amusing. Most folks are still laughing—behind our backs—about nutty old Lottie Paine leaving millions to a dog-pound pooch.

Now you understand, I don’t need Aunt Lottie’s money. My father, God rest him, left me well off. I’m not a multi-millionaire, not rich enough to have men beating a path to my door, but if I chose never to work another day in my life, I’ll still be financially secure. Percy Paine, like his sister, Lottie, had not squandered his inheritance. So, I suppose that was one reason Aunt Lottie made me executor of her will and Lucky’s legal guardian. That and the fact she knew I loved Lucky, that I love animals in general and dogs in particular. That’s one trait I did inherit from her.

The other heirs complained—loud and long. They shouted that they would protest the will, to which Uncle Willie immediately replied, “No point wasting your time. At Lottie’s request, I saw to it that her will is iron-clad. No judge in the country would overturn it.”

Now, you’d have thought that would be that, right? Oh, no. To a person, they—even Aunt Dottie—hired lawyers. Didn’t do them a darn bit of good. They should have listened to Uncle Willie and saved themselves the time and the money. All the heirs would inherit someday, of course—but only after Lucky died.

Like I said, I love my family, at least nearly all of them. I can’t say I’ve entirely forgiven Valerie for running off with Dylan. But I don’t hate her. And seeing what a good-for-nothing Dylan turned out to be, I suppose I should be grateful to her. Every family has its faults, its idiosyncrasies, its skeletons in the closet, etc., etc., and the Paine clan is no different. But all in all, we’re good people. God-fearing, flag-waving, all-American Southerners. So just imagine how totally traumatized I was when a member of my family tried to kill Lucky. I don’t know who did it, but I’m convinced it was a disgruntled, disappointed heir who is willing to kill a poor little innocent dog for money. And in retrospect, I realize that this latest attempt might not have been the first, just the closest to successful.

After being shot, Lucky is recovering nicely over at Doc Stone’s veterinary clinic and he’s due to be released tomorrow. Since I have been unable to convince the police that Lucky is in danger, that he needs protection—when I’m elected mayor, I’ll definitely be looking into local law-enforcement practices—I was left with only one choice. It’s what Aunt Lottie would have wanted, what she would have done herself.

I hired a bodyguard for Lucky.

## Chapter 1

Vic Noble got off the elevator on the sixth floor of the downtown Atlanta building. He had finished his most recent assignment for the Dundee Private Security and Investigation agency two days ago and had hoped for a bit more downtime before being reassigned. No such luck. Daisy Holbrook, the office manager, had phoned him this morning to tell him that the CEO, Sawyer McNamara, had contacted her from his vacation home in Hilton Head, South Carolina, with the details of Vic’s new job.

As he approached Daisy’s desk in the heart of the Dundee agency office complex, she apparently sensed his presence. Glancing up, she offered him her usual pleasant smile. Daisy was a sweetheart. A cute, plump little brunette the staff referred to as Ms. Efficiency. Every agent thought of her as a kid sister. Even he did, and there weren’t that many people Vic took a shine to, especially women in general. Oh, women had their place in his life, but only on a temporary, mutually satisfying yet non-emotional basis. Having been a loner since childhood, he liked his solitary, uncomplicated life. He’d been involved once, maybe even in love, but the experience had been bittersweet, to stay the least.

“Good morning, Vic,” Daisy greeted him when he stopped at her desk. “Sorry to cut your down-time short, but you’re the only available agent. We’ve been working shorthanded for quite some time, ever since Frank, Kate and J.J. all left us this past year. Mr. McNamara told me to thank you for taking this assignment.”

“No problem,” Vic said, but a peculiar glint in Daisy’s eyes warned him that something wasn’t quite right. “Or is there a problem?”

“Not that I know of.”

Her smile widened, going from warm and friendly to forced and phony. Not a good sign. Vic smelled trouble with a capital T.

“You’re not a very good liar,” he told her.

“I’m not lying. There is no problem.” She picked up a file folder and held it out to him. “You’re booked on a flight leaving early this afternoon. I’ve arranged for a rental car and everything else you’ll need. You’ll be flying into Huntsville, Alabama, and driving from there about sixty miles to Alabaster Creek.”

“What’s going on in Alabaster Creek, Alabama, that requires a Dundee agent?”

With her fake smile in place, Daisy cleared her throat. “Mr. McNamara did ask me to explain that we’re taking this case because the client is a relative of a friend of a friend, if you know what I mean.”

Vic leaned over her desk and looked directly into her eyes. “Whatever it is, just tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Who’s the client? What’s the job?”

“The client…the lady who hired us is Penny Sue Paine.”

Vic grinned. Penny Sue Paine? Could that name actually belong to a real person? It sounded more like the name for a cartoon character. “Why does Penny Sue Paine need a bodyguard?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Then why does she need an investigator?”

“Well…Ms. Paine needs you to find out who’s trying to kill the…uh…the client she is hiring you to protect.”

“I thought Ms. Paine was the client.”

“She’s the person who has hired Dundee’s, but she hired us to protect someone else, someone who is recovering from a gunshot wound.”

“And this someone is?”

“Uh…” Daisy hesitated, then said in a rush, “His name is Lucky. Lucky Paine. He’s a four-year-old mixed-breed dog who just inherited twenty-three million dollars.”

Vic pulled away from Daisy’s desk, squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight—I’m traveling to Alabaster Creek, Alabama, this afternoon to guard a dog?”

“Twenty-four/seven.” Daisy’s fake smile returned.

“Send somebody else.”

“There is no one else. Every agent is already on an assignment.”

“Then call somebody in. I’ll swap places with any agent who’s—”

“I’m sorry, Vic, but nobody is willing. Mr. McNamara figured you wouldn’t want this assignment and asked me to see if I could find another agent willing to swap places with you. Of course, he really wanted to hand this one over to Lucie. She was his first choice. You know how that would have pleased him, getting her all riled up over an assignment. But she’s out of the country and there’s no way she can come back right now, even if she wanted to take this job.”

Vic cursed under his breath.

“If you’ll go to Alabama today, I promise that the minute another agent works off, I’ll get down on my hands and knees and beg him to relieve you.”

Vic considered the situation. If he took this job, the other agents would never let him hear the end of it. He wasn’t exactly known for his sense of humor and although he was on friendly terms with the other agents, he kept his distance on a personal level. He was a guy who traveled alone, traveled light. No ties that bound, no entanglements weighed him down. In his former line of work, as a CIA operative, he’d been known as the lone wolf.

“Call Sawyer and tell him I’ll go to Alabama until another agent is available. I want time-and-a-half pay and two weeks’ paid vacation when I come in.”

“I’m sure he’ll agree.”

Vic grabbed the file folder Daisy held. “Call him anyway. And once he’s agreed, call Ms. Paine and let her know I’ll phone her when I arrive in Huntsville.” He fanned the file folder at Daisy. “I assume her phone number is in here.”

“Her home phone, her business phone and her cell phone.”

“Just what business is Ms. Paine in?”

“She owns her own business. A shop called Penny Sue’s Pretties. It’s a specialty gifts and home-decorating shop.”

Vic groaned. Oh, God, she was one of those women.

“She’s also running for mayor of Alabaster Creek, population 5,437. I understand it’s a part-time job that pays about fifteen thousand a year.”

Vic groaned again.

He knew, right this minute, before he ever left Dundee headquarters here in Atlanta, that this would turn out to be the assignment from hell.

“Do you really think pink will work in our bedroom?” Hazel Carruthers studied the pale-pink satin material. “Alton’s not big on anything too feminine. He likes navy blue and green and red and brown.”

Penny Sue sighed. “This is your bedroom, too, isn’t it? You shouldn’t have to do all the compromising. Pink is your favorite color.”

“I know, but I have to live with that man, and if I use pink as the dominant color in our bedroom, he’ll sleep on the sofa.”

Penny Sue knew Alton Carruthers. If he were her husband, she’d rather have him sleep on the sofa than in her bed. The man was as ugly as homemade soap, with a grumpy disposition and an I’m-head-of-the-household mentality. He’d chosen wisely when he married Hazel, a plain, skinny redhead with a sweet, gentle temperament and a willingness to please. Although Penny Sue wished the woman would grow a backbone, she liked her nonetheless.

“Paint the walls beige. A light beige with just a hint of pink,” Penny Sue suggested reluctantly. If she pressed Hazel to go against Alton’s wishes, she would be doing her client a disservice. And the client always came first. “Use navy blue as the dominant color in the drapes and bedding, then use pink in the throw pillows and small accent pieces. How does that sound?”

Hazel’s blue eyes brightened. “One pink pillow and maybe some pink candles. Surely Alton can’t complain about that.”

Although every feminist instinct in her groaned, Penny Sue smiled. “Why don’t you look around and see if you can find something you like. I’ll make some notations in my notebook and work up a complete plan for your bedroom.”

Hazel gazed longingly at the pink satin drapery material, then sighed heavily before walking away to search for a pink pillow.

Penny Sue was of the opinion that men should stick to things they know—like hunting and fishing, cars and trucks, sports and beer—and leave home-decorating entirely in the hands of the women in their lives. If she had a husband, which she didn’t and possibly never would, she’d tell him straight away that if she wanted a pink bedroom, then by golly she’d have one and he’d just have to get used to it. Now it wasn’t as if she was opposed to catering to a man, to making him feel special and building up his ego, but there were limits to what a woman should have to do.

Just as Penny Sue headed toward her desk, tucked away in the corner of Penny Sue’s Pretties, the bell over the door tinkled, informing her that a customer had either entered or exited her shop. Since Hazel was the only person in the store, other than herself, that meant she’d have to postpone working on Hazel’s bedroom plans and see to the needs of the new customer. After laying her notebook on the antique French desk, she retraced her steps and headed toward the front of the store. The minute she saw her cousin Valerie marching toward her, Penny Sue came to a dead stop. She could tell from the look on Val’s face that her cousin was in a snit.

Valerie Redley, with her silky blond hair and slanted green eyes, glared at Penny Sue. Model-thin, long-legged and bosomy, her cousin had “that look.” You know, the look that tells men she’s not only hot, but also available. “That look” came from the other side of her family, not from the Paines. The Paine women were known for their modesty and ladylike manners.

“Are you out of your mind?” Val asked, her voice loud enough to be heard throughout the store.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t you play innocent with me. I just came from Doc Stone’s, where I’d gone to check on Lucky, and Tanya told me what you’ve done.”

Penny Sue stood her ground, putting the most defiant look on her face she possibly could. But when a person had small, soft features, the way she did, it wasn’t easy. Killer stares were better accomplished by people with chiseled features.

“And just what did Doc Stone’s receptionist tell you I’ve done?”

“You’re wasting Aunt Lottie’s money on the most foolish notion I’ve ever heard of,” Val said. “Hiring a bodyguard for that stupid dog is outrageous. Whatever were you thinking?”

Sticking her nose in the air, hoping for a snooty look since she couldn’t quite pull off defiant, Penny Sue replied, “I was thinking that Lucky needed protection from whomever is trying to kill him.”

Val groaned. “Nobody is trying to kill that mutt. You have no right to spend Aunt Lottie’s money—”

Penny Sue stuck her index finger right in Val’s face. “It’s not Aunt Lottie’s money anymore. It’s Lucky’s money.” Val’s expression hardened, putting wrinkles in her forehead and between her eyes. Val wasn’t aging well. Another trait she must have inherited from the other side of her family. The Paines always aged well. “Have you forgotten that someone shot Lucky and nearly killed him?”

“It was an accident. All the men around Alabaster Creek own guns and many of them target practice in their backyards, so it’s not that big a stretch to think a stray bullet might hit something other than its intended target. Even the police think that Lucky was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and—”

“Hogwash.”

“What?”

“You heard me—hogwash. One of my relatives—” she looked pointedly at Val “—is willing to murder Lucky in order to inherit his money.”

Val huffed, then sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips.

Penny Sue wondered if Dylan had ever noticed that his wife was not a pretty woman. Sexy. Yes. Attractive in a floozie kind of way. Yes. But pretty. No. And as she grew older, the good Paine genes she had inherited from her father—a first cousin to Lottie, Dottie, Douglas and Percy—were being ravaged by the less-favorable genes she had inherited from her mother. Valerie’s mother had not been a pretty woman either. None of the Good-wins in and around Alabaster Creek were good-looking.

“You should know that I’ve called a meeting for this evening so that we can discuss what you’ve done,” Val said. “Even Aunt Dottie is upset with you.”

In her peripheral vision, Penny Sue caught a glimpse of Hazel Carruthers cautiously coming up the aisle, her eyes wide, her attention focused on the loud disagreement. “Call all the meetings you want. I’ve done what I thought best for Lucky and there’s really nothing you can do about it.”

“I think someone other than you should be named executor of Aunt Lottie’s will and made Lucky’s guardian.”

Penny Sue took a step toward her cousin, who took a step back, her eyes rounded in surprise. “I’m not going to hit you, even though a part of me would like to slap you silly. You’re such a twit. Aunt Lottie chose me for good reason. And Uncle Willie made sure there’s little chance of her wishes being overturned in any court of law. Lucky inherited Aunt Lottie’s money and I’m her executor and Lucky’s guardian and I intend to see that Lucky lives to a ripe old age. He’s only four. He could easily live another ten or twelve years.”

“Do you intend to throw away millions on a private bodyguard for the next ten years? If you do, you’ll be certifiably insane and we might be able to have you committed.”

Penny Sue grinned. “Get real, will you? I’m a Paine. I’m supposed to be eccentric. And as for keeping a bodyguard indefinitely—I don’t think that will be necessary. Once we find out who tried to kill Lucky, Uncle Willie says it’s possible that we can legally remove that person from the list of heirs.”

“You can’t do that!”

“No, I can’t, but Uncle Willie probably can. There’s a provision in Aunt Lottie’s will that speaks to that issue.”

“I don’t remember Uncle Willie reading anything about—”

“It was worded in legal jargon and everyone was so upset and making all kinds of threats that day that I seriously doubt anyone was listening when he read the specific provision concerning disqualifying heirs.”

“Well, I can assure you that Dylan and I would never harm a hair on Lucky’s head,” Val said. “And I really don’t think anyone else in the family tried to kill Lucky, but if they did, then they should definitely be removed from the list of heirs who will inherit when Lucky dies.”

Penny Sue’s grin widened. Valerie had changed her tune rather quickly. No doubt she was calculating how much more money she would inherit if the list of heirs was cut by one. That meant either she was not the would-be killer or she was trying to figure out a way to frame someone else.

“I’ll let the others know that this bodyguard you’ve hired for Lucky is only a temporary thing,” Val said. “However, since you’re the one who hired him, I think you should be the one to pay him—out of your own pocket. It’s not fair to take money away from the rest of us, now is it?”

Penny Sue glowered at Val. The bell over the entrance door chimed again. Since Hazel stood only a few feet away, that meant someone new had entered the shop. Momentarily taking her eyes off Val to check on the newcomer, Penny Sue saw her cousin Eula, who had retired from her job at Alabaster Creek Utilities last year, at the age of sixty-two. Eula worked part-time at Penny Sue’s Pretties now. And today was one of her three half-days, which included Wednesdays, Saturdays and Fridays.

Val turned and smiled when she saw Eula. “I’m glad you came in before I left. I’m phoning everyone in the family to let them know I’m hosting a meeting tonight to discuss Penny Sue’s decision to hire a bodyguard for Lucky. Telling you in person saves me a phone call.”

Eula’s faded brown eyes glanced from Val to Penny Sue. “You hired a bodyguard for Lottie’s dog?”

“An expensive bodyguard who’ll watch Lucky twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” Val said. “Isn’t that a ridiculous waste of money?”

Frown lines wrinkled Eula’s forehead as her narrowed gaze confronted Penny Sue. Eula was a true Paine in looks and personality. A first cousin to Penny Sue’s father, Eula possessed the same dark eyes, hair and complexion as Lottie and Dottie, as well as the high-strung, opinionated and eccentric nature for which all the Paine women were infamous. And, she, too, was an old maid.

“You still think one of us tried to kill Lucky, don’t you?” Eula asked.

“I know one of the heirs shot Lucky and it’s my job to protect him,” Penny Sue said.

“Then you’ve done the right thing by hiring someone to guard him around the clock.” Eula moved past her cousins and headed toward the back of the store.

“Eula!” Val shrieked the name.

Eula stopped, turned and said, “Valerie, did your mother not teach you that it’s very unladylike to scream?”

Scowling, Val walked toward Eula. “I believe Penny Sue should cover the cost of the bodyguard herself and not take the money out of our inheritance.”

Eula cocked her head to one side. “Hmm…” She cocked her head to the other side, then sighed dramatically. “No, that wouldn’t be right. Lucky is Lottie’s dog, so Lottie’s money should pay for protecting him.”

Val fumed. You could practically see the steam rising off the top of her bleached-blond head. “Since you’re apparently on Penny Sue’s side in this matter, there’s no point in your being at tonight’s meeting. I’ll tell the others—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Penny Sue said. “Eula and I are family. We’re two of the heirs who will inherit when Lucky goes to puppy-dog heaven, so we will most certainly want to be present at the meeting. As a matter of fact, I’ll even bring Lucky’s bodyguard with me so y’all can meet him.”

Val’s eyes grew large 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, sir, how may I help you?” She smiled pleasantly.

Maybe this woman wasn’t Ms. Paine. She could be an employee, couldn’t she? “Ms. Paine?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Relieved, he told himself. “I’m Vic Noble.”

She stared at him quizzically, as if she’d never heard the name before in her life. How was that possible? He had spoken to her only an hour ago.

“Vic Noble, from the Dundee agency,” he told her.

“The Dundee agency?”

“Dundee Private Security and Investigation.”

“Oh!” Her mouth formed a wide-open circle. “You must be Lucky’s bodyguard.”

“Yes, ma’am. We spoke on the phone. I called you from Huntsville.”

She laughed. “Oh, my dear young man, you didn’t speak to me. You spoke to—”

“You spoke to me, Mr. Noble.” The syrupy-sweet voice came from behind him.

He turned, took one look at the lady and felt as if he’d been pole-axed. The woman smiling at him as she came forward took his breath away. He didn’t know any other way to describe how he felt. As a rule, women either turned him on or they didn’t. This woman did a lot more than turn him on. She turned him inside out, and he sure as hell didn’t like the feeling.

She held out her small, delicate hand. “I’m Penny Sue Paine. It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Noble.”

He stared at her hand for a split second, then took it, shook it a little too hard and released it as if it were a red-hot poker. Say something, he told himself. Don’t just stand here looking at her. But his male libido told him to look all he wanted, to appreciate every lovely curve of her body, every feature of her pretty face.

So this was Penny Sue Paine? Executor of Lottie Paine’s will and guardian to Lucky, the multi-millionaire dog.

She stared at him with huge, chocolate-brown eyes, fringed with thick dark lashes. Her features were almost too perfect. Small, tip-tilted nose. Full luscious lips. Oval face. Flawless olive complexion that probably tanned easily. And a mane of dark auburn-brown hair that flowed around her slender shoulders.

And her body? Holy hell. The body was to die for. No more than five-four, with an hourglass shape. Tiny waist, rounded hips and high, full breasts.

“Are you all right, Mr. Noble?” she asked.

“Uh…yeah, I’m fine. I was just surprised there for a minute. I thought the other lady—” he inclined his head toward the older Ms. Paine.

“That’s my cousin, Eula,” Penny Sue said.

“I see.”

“Now that you’re here, we can go to Doc Stone’s so you can meet Lucky or we can go to the house so you can settle in or—have you had lunch? If not, we can go over to the Country Kettle. What would you like to do first?” Penny Sue asked.

What would he like to do first? The one and only thought that popped into Vic’s mind was I’d like to screw you, Miss Penny Sue. That’s what I’d like to do.

## Chapter 2

Penny Sue walked alongside the Dundee agent she had hired to protect Lucky and wondered exactly what kind of man this Vic Noble was—other than being a devastatingly attractive male specimen. The first moment she’d seen him, she had instantly gone weak in the knees. And that wasn’t something she did all that often. It had only happened a couple of times in her entire life. The first time had been when Dylan Redley French-kissed her when she was fifteen. The second time had been when she’d met Mr. Tom Selleck in person.

“I hope you don’t mind walking,” Penny Sue said. “I always walk to and from the shop. It’s good exercise and gives me a chance to do a little politicking when I see my neighbors on their porches or in their yards.”

When he didn’t respond, she cut her eyes in his direction to see if he’d even heard her. Since they had turned his rental car in, at her suggestion, over at Burns’s Service Station and Mini-Mart, the man hadn’t said ten words to her. She’d had to explain to him that Burns’s was also the automobile and moving-van rental place in town. Old Man Burns had believed in diversifying and his two sons, Dwight and Dwayne, were following in his footsteps.

“You won’t need a car,” Penny Sue had told Vic. “You can use either my car or Aunt Lottie’s car while you’re here.”

As she glanced at Lucky’s protector, Penny Sue noted how very tall he was. She was five-four and he stood a good foot taller than she. Without being too obvious, she let her gaze travel over him, from his thick, dark hair, down his proud nose to his wide, hard mouth. Didn’t this man ever smile?

Several times, he had walked a few steps ahead of her, but when he’d realized she couldn’t keep up with his long gait, he’d slowed and got in step with her. As they left the commercial blocks of downtown Alabaster Creek and moved on to the first residential street—Maple Avenue—she began searching for any voters who might be out and about this afternoon. So far, she’d paused to speak to half a dozen people in town, but Maple Avenue seemed deserted, not a person in sight.

“Alabaster Creek is one of the oldest towns in north Alabama,” Penny Sue said, just making conversation, which wasn’t easy with this man. “We were actually a town before Alabama became a state.”

Vic Noble didn’t say a word. With his black vinyl suitcase in hand, he marched alongside her. Tall, dark and silent.

“Most of the houses here on Maple Avenue were built post-War Between the States, but there’s one—see, right up there, the two-story white wooden structure—that was built in 1838. It’s the Rutland house. And would you believe descendants of the family who built the house still live in it today. As a matter of fact, Tommy Rutland is running against me for mayor. His father was once the mayor, but then again so was my father and my grandfather.”

“Hmm…”

Most people found the history of Alabaster Creek interesting, but not this man. What was his problem? Didn’t he know that not keeping up your end of a conversation was considered bad manners?

“You aren’t much of a talker, are you, Mr. Noble?”

“No, ma’am, I’m not.”

He didn’t bother even to look at her, which irritated her no end. This man might be big and macho and terribly attractive in a caveman sort of way, but his dour personality wasn’t the least bit appealing. But perhaps she shouldn’t judge him too harshly. After all, they’d just met and it took some people more time than it did her to warm up to others. Also, there was his profession to consider—he was a bodyguard and a private investigator. Lord only knew what kind of life this man had lived and what sort of cases he’d worked on over the years. It could be that he’d seen too much of the dark side of life. She’d heard that tended to make men somber and introspective.

“I suppose most of your cases are different from this one,” Penny Sue said, hoping that by talking business, she could encourage him to open up a bit.

“Yeah. Very different.”

Aha, he could talk. “Have you ever guarded a dog?”

“No, ma’am, I haven’t. This is a first for me.”

“You’ll like Lucky. He’s precious. Everyone adores him.”

“Not everyone.”

“What? Oh, yes, you’re right. Not everyone. Not the person who shot him.”

“Do you have any idea who that person might be?”

She shook her head. “One of the heirs. But there are eight of us and other than knowing for sure that I didn’t shoot Lucky, I can’t imagine who did. And I shouldn’t have said everyone adores Lucky. I should have said most people do. Even Aunt Dottie, whose cat, Puff, hates Lucky, admits that Lucky is a dear.”

“Ms. Paine, why would your aunt leave twenty-three million dollars to a dog?”

When she stopped on the sidewalk in front of the Kimbrew house, he paused and looked at her for the first time since they’d left Burns’s. Her stomach did a naughty flip-flop when he settled his gaze on her, his pensive hazel-and-blue eyes incredibly sexy. She’d always thought only brown eyes could be referred to as bedroom eyes, but now she knew better.

Penny Sue sighed. “You might as well know before you meet everyone tonight. The Paine family is…well, we’re the town eccentrics. You know, slightly peculiar. Just a bit off center. We tend to do things our own way. And the women in our family are the worst. I suppose that’s why so many Paine women die old maids. It’s not that we don’t want husbands, it’s just that we seem to intimidate most men.

“We’re all considered beauties and we can attract men like bears to honey, but we can’t seem to keep a man once he realizes how independent and opinionated we are. Even Aunt Dottie, who is the sweetest thing, wasn’t able to land a husband. And one of her fiancés turned out to be a swindler who ran off with a large chunk of her money and broke her heart to boot. And then there was my one and only fiancé—he didn’t leave with any of my money, but he did run off with the Baptist preacher’s wife only a couple of weeks before our wedding. And what made it even more of a scandal was the fact the woman was my cousin.

“Valerie’s last name might have been Paine, but she takes after her mother’s side of the family, which means she’s not a true Paine. You’ll meet her tonight. If you’re like most men, you’ll take one look at her and think she’s easy, if you know what I mean. And you’d be right. She gets that from her mother’s side of the family, too. The Paine women are known for their modesty and their ladylike manners. Aunt Lottie and Aunt Dottie, Cousin Eula, Cousin Stacie and—”

He dropped his case to the sidewalk and then grabbed her by the shoulders. For half a second she thought he was going to shake her. He didn’t. The very instant she stopped talking, he released her. But not before every nerve ending in her entire body had gone to full alert. She’d been startled by his abrupt action, but not afraid. His touch had been firm yet gentle and the feel of his large, strong hands had sent a tingling sensation through her whole body.

She gazed up at him, into those stern hazel-blue eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“Ms. Paine, all I asked was why your aunt left her fortune to a dog.”

Penny Sue laughed. “Oh, my, so you did. You’ll have to forgive me, Mr. Noble—by the way, may I call you Vic? I’d like it if you called me Penny Sue. Everyone does. Well, not everyone in the whole world because I don’t know everyone in the whole world, but everyone in Alabaster Creek and—”

He grabbed her shoulders again and this time he did shake her. Once. A very gentle shake, but enough to quiet her. She gazed up at him and smiled. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I? I tend to get off track. It’s another family trait—giving too many details. Aunt Lottie always scolded me for digressing.”

She glanced at his big hands still clutching her shoulders. He released her immediately.

“Do you suppose you could manage to answer my questions in two sentences or less?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. But I could try.” She reached up and smoothed his wrinkled brow with her fingertips. He jerked back as if her touch had burned him. “You really should smile more, Vic. You’re a very good-looking man, but frowning all the time isn’t very attractive.”

“Ms. Paine—”

“Penny Sue.”

He heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. Was he annoyed with her? Probably. Just a tad. Silly of him, of course, to get so bent out of shape over nothing.

“Penny Sue,” he said. “How about we try yes and no answers?”

“All right. Does that mean you’ll ask me a question and I’ll say either yes or no?”

“That’s what it means.”

“All right. Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s go on home. If we stand out here in front of the Kimbrew house for much longer, Oren Kimbrew will come out here and ask us what we’re up to. He grows prize-winning roses and for the past two years, Aunt Dottie’s roses have won first place in every contest in which they competed against each other. So when he sees any member of the Paine family near his house, he accuses us of trying to sabotage his roses.”

Vic picked up his case with one hand and using the other hand, grabbed her arm and spurred her into motion, leading her up the block in an all-fired hurry. If she hadn’t been so perturbed by his actions, she’d have noticed sooner that once again her body was tingling all over just from his touch.

“Vic?”

“Hush, will you?” After drawing in a deep breath, he added, “Please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I know better. Tell me.”

Without looking at her, but holding on to her arm and keeping up their fast pace down the sidewalk, Vic said, “I’ve never met a woman who talked so much and said so little.”

Penny Sue balked. He yanked on her arm, but she wouldn’t budge. He let go of her.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” she told him.

“You’re right. It wasn’t. I tend to say exactly what I think. If you want an apology, then I’ll apologize.”

“No, don’t bother. It wouldn’t be sincere. And an insincere apology is worse than no apology at all.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Penny Sue pursed her lips into a little pout. Tears moistened her eyes. Her chin trembled. There was no excuse for being rude. Well, maybe one. If Vic was a Yankee, she might be able to overlook his comment. But she could tell by his accent that he had been raised somewhere in the South, probably farther north than Alabama. Virginia or Kentucky. But even in those states, people were taught good manners, weren’t they?

He studied her for a couple of minutes. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

She sniffled. “Would you please put that into a question I can answer by either yes or no.”

He glared at her. She glanced away, refusing to look at him. Since they were going to be spending a great deal of time together during the next few weeks, he needed to learn right now that she would not tolerate bad manners, especially not from an employee.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asked, his manner downright surly.

“Yes.”

“Will you accept my apology?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

She gasped. It was a fake gasp, but he didn’t know that.

“Don’t tell me—you’re offended by my saying hell?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He blew out an irritated huff. “Look, lady, I’m a man. I occasionally use profanity. And my manners aren’t all they could be. But you didn’t hire me because I’m a gentleman. You hired me because I’m a professional. Can we agree on that?”

“Yes.”

“Then will you accept my apology?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Lifting her head just enough to indicate indifference, she glanced right and then left. He needed to be taught the proper way to deal with a Paine woman. And the sooner, the better.

“You’re not answering because you’re sticking with the yes or no responses I asked you to give,” he said. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean it so literally,” he told her. “I just wanted to find a way to cut your never-ending explanations to a minimum of words. Feel free to elaborate beyond yes and no.” When she opened her mouth as if to speak, he held up a restraining hand. “Brief elaboration.”

“No.”

“Ms. Paine!”

She glared at him.

Then he said, “Penny Sue?”

She softened her gaze just a little, enough to let him know she was considering the possibility of being agreeable. “Yes?”

“I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. Is that all right?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

He glanced from her face to her bosom, then swallowed hard and looked her right in the eyes. “I didn’t want this assignment. I consider it frivolous and silly. My background qualifies me for just about anything the Dundee agency can throw my way, however, I think I’m just a little overqualified to guard a millionaire dog. But I’m here until another agent can take my place, so that means you and I have to work together on a daily basis. I think it will be to both your advantage and mine if we can be civil to each other. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Then will you start saying something other than yes and no?”

“Maybe.”

When he grunted and rolled his eyes heavenward, Penny Sue grinned, then walked off and left him standing on the corner of Elm Avenue and First Street.

Penny Sue Paine hadn’t said anything else to him on their walk to 413 First Street. He had taken his cue from her and remained silent. He’d never been very good at having to deal with a woman on a personal basis. Usually the female clients he worked with on Dundee assignments were normal women, often either a woman in jeopardy herself or the wife of a man in trouble. And when he was physically attracted to a client, he never made the first move and always waited to see if the attraction went both ways. On a couple of occasions, he’d had a brief affair with a client, but as a general rule, things remained strictly business. Any woman he encountered knew up-front that he wasn’t interested in anything beyond a physical relationship.

But this drop-dead-gorgeous, Southern-belle chatterbox was unlike any woman he’d ever known. One minute he wanted to gag her and the next minute he wanted to kiss her.

Would he like to make love to Penny Sue Paine? Damn right he would. Any red-blooded man would want her. But after spending less than an hour with her this afternoon, he understood why she was still single, why, as she had told him, most of the Paine women died old maids. If all the others, past and present, were or had been anything like she was…

“This is it,” Penny Sue said.

Surprised that she’d spoken, he snapped his head around and looked at her. She was gazing at the house at the end of the sidewalk. Three stories high and covered with elaborate wooden trim, the pink-and-green Victorian structure looked like something from the past. A grand old lady who was well preserved.

Penny Sue reached for the handle on the fancy black iron gate attached to the decorative iron fence that surrounded the large triple lot on which the Paine house sat. Vic slipped his arm alongside hers and flipped the latch, then moved to her side and opened the gate for her. She smiled, tilted her head in an I’m-pleased-with-you gesture and sauntered up the brick walkway in front of him. Following several feet behind her, he watched the seductive sway of her hips and wondered if she realized that with every move, her body was flirting, sending out come-here-big-boy signals. If she was as modest and well-mannered as she’d said the Paine women were, then she probably didn’t know. The fact that she was a sexy woman who wasn’t fully aware of just how sexy she was made her all the more desirable.

Desirable, yes. But off limits to you, he reminded himself.

He followed behind her like an obedient servant—or a devoted lap dog. Inwardly he cringed. Was this how his next few weeks would be spent? He and Lucky traipsing along behind Miss Penny Sue?

He had every intention of calling Daisy first thing in the morning to tell her he wanted out of this job ASAP. He’d forego any overtime pay if she could get him out of Alabaster Creek and away from Penny Sue. If the woman didn’t drive him crazy first, he’d wind up dragging her off to a dark corner somewhere and having his way with her. And if their relationship reached that stage, there would be hell to pay. This was no one-night-stand kind of gal. No, this one would want orange blossoms and wedding bells. As far as he was concerned that was too high a price to pay for a piece of ass, no matter how shapely that ass might be.

When they approached the front door, it flew open and a gray Siamese cat zipped out onto the porch and past them, pausing long enough to hiss at them before running into the yard.

“Get back here, you naughty boy,” the woman standing in the doorway cried. “That cat will be the death of me. His antics play havoc on my poor nerves.” She looked Vic over, studied him admiringly and smiled. “Well, hello. Who are you?”

“Aunt Dottie, this is Mr. Noble,” Penny Sue said. “He’s the bodyguard I hired for Lucky. He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

The woman’s keen black eyes opened wide. “You’ve hired a bodyguard for—”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Penny Sue told her aunt. “Val stopped by the shop earlier and told me all about the meeting here tonight.”

“Oh, dear, you aren’t angry with me, are you? Val can be so persuasive. And I didn’t see what harm it would do for the family to get together and discuss things.”

Vic wondered just how old Aunt Dottie was. Past sixty, maybe even past seventy. She was tiny, no more than five-one and possibly a hundred pounds soaking wet. Her hair was short, stylish and jet-black. Her face was as smooth as a baby’s butt, the skin drawn tightly over her cheeks and forehead. He’d bet his last dollar that the lady had undergone more than one facelift. Even with the changes age and cosmetic surgery had done to her face, it was obvious that Dottie Paine had once been a young beauty and there was a strong family resemblance between her and her niece.

“There really isn’t anything to discuss.” Penny Sue confronted her aunt, who backed down immediately and eased into the foyer. “I’ve hired a bodyguard for Lucky, to protect him from a potential killer. And I’m using the money Aunt Lottie left Lucky to pay for Mr. Noble’s bodyguard duties as well as his investigative skills.”

“He’s an investigator, too?” Dottie asked.

“Come in, please, Vic.” Penny Sue motioned for him to enter the house, so he complied with her wishes.

Just as Penny Sue started to close the door, Dottie cried out, “I can’t leave Puff outside. He’s liable to run off and Lord knows what would happen to him. He’s not accustomed to life on the street.”

Penny Sue shut the door. Dottie gasped.

“Oh, pooh. That spoiled cat isn’t going anywhere,” Penny Sue said. “He’ll be scratching on the door in a couple of minutes.”

Dottie eyed Vic. He tried to ignore the old woman’s scrutiny.

“Do you think it proper for him to stay here in the house with us?” Dottie asked. “After all, he’s a man and we’re two single ladies. You know how people talk.”

“Ruby and Tully live here, too,” Penny Sue said. “Besides, what do we care about wagging tongues?”

“Who are Ruby and Tully?” Vic asked.

“They’re the housekeeper and her husband,” Dottie replied. “He’s the gardener and does all the upkeep around the place. They have two rooms in the back. They used to live in their own house, but once their children grew up and moved away, we agreed it would be nice all the way around to have them living in.”

“Oh.” A high percentage of Dundee clients were wealthy and therefore had servants. Some servants were treated like members of the family, while others were treated little better than serfs. His mother, who’d cleaned houses for several well-to-do families back in Lafayette, Kentucky, had been treated like trash.

Turning to her aunt, Penny Sue asked, “Did you let Ruby know we’re having guests over this evening?”

“Of course,” Dottie replied. “I told her just coffee and tea, along with some little sandwiches and perhaps some homemade cookies or tarts.”

Penny Sue glanced at Vic. “We would normally serve wine, too, but Cousin Clayton is a minister and he frowns on liquor of any kind.”

“Believe me, Mr. Noble, Clayton would preach us all a sermon if we served liquor.” Dottie tsk-tsked. “The man’s a fanatic, if you ask me. Can you imagine anyone being rude enough to tell me that I shouldn’t dye my hair and wear so much makeup because it’s pure vanity and vanity is a sin?”

“Clayton was a real hell-raiser when he was a boy, but when he went off to college he met Phyllis, whose father and brother were both ministers, and before we knew what was happening, Clayton got religion and up and joined that Unity Church,” Penny Sue explained. “Generations of Paines turned over in their graves when that happened. We’ve been Methodists since the first Paine set foot on American soil.”

“Valerie married a Baptist preacher, the first time,” Dottie said. “That was another disappointment for the family. But she got a divorce and remarried. Dylan is a good Methodist boy. He used to come to church every Sunday with Penny Sue, back when—” As if suddenly realizing she had said something inappropriate, Dottie hushed immediately. Her rouged cheeks darkened. She cleared her throat and changed the subject as she looked at her niece. “Perhaps you should show Mr. Noble up to his room. Douglas’s old room should do nicely.”

God, yes, Vic thought, show me to my room. He needed some time alone after listening to these two chirping Paine women rattle on and on about nothing.

“I asked Ruby to air out both Uncle Douglas’s old room and Daddy’s as well,” Penny Sue said, “so Mr. Noble can choose which he would prefer.”

Both women looked at him and smiled. He forced the corners of his mouth to lift in a hint of a smile.

“What a good idea.” Dottie patted Vic on the arm. “They’re both lovely rooms. And very masculine.” Suddenly the old woman gasped. “Did you hear that? I believe it’s Puff.”

They all listened to the mewing and scratching sounds coming from outside the front door. Dottie rushed out of the room and into the foyer.

“We might as well go on up,” Penny Sue said. “As soon as she brings Puff inside, she’ll take him out to the kitchen and give him a treat of some kind. And while she’s in the kitchen, she’ll have Ruby fix her a cup of tea and they’ll talk about dinner tonight.”

Vic nodded.

Penny Sue stared at him as if expecting him to respond in some way. He didn’t know what to say, had no idea what she wanted from him.

“I asked Ruby to prepare stuffed pork chops tonight,” Penny Sue said. “Do you like—”

“Yes,” he replied.

“If you have any special dietary needs—”

“I don’t.”

“Do you prefer your coffee black or—”

“Black.”

“Can’t you let me finish a sentence!” She glared at him, her chocolate-brown eyes focused on his face and her full, soft mouth closed in a frown.

Without giving any thought to what he was doing, he reached out and brushed his fingertips over her forehead. “You’re a beautiful woman, Ms. Paine, but frowning isn’t very attractive.”

His fingertips lingered a little too long, edging across and down to her cheek. She sucked in her breath. Her eyes widened as their gazes locked. Suddenly she smiled and it was as if everything wrong in the world suddenly became right.

Vic snatched his hand away. What the hell was the matter with him?

“Nothing like having your own words come back to condemn you,” she said.

Doing his best not to look right at her, he nodded. “How about showing me to my room?”

“Certainly. Follow me.”

She led him up the wide wooden stairs covered with a plush burgundy carpet runner. The banisters were intricately carved and had been stained a dark walnut to match the steps and the flooring in the foyer and upstairs hallway. Although the house was old and the furniture antiques, the interior had a warm, homey feel to it.

“Did you grow up in this house?” he asked when they reached the landing.

“As a matter of fact, I did. My mother died when I was four and Daddy and I came here to live at the old homestead with my aunts.”

“So your aunts were your surrogate mothers?”

“Most definitely. I suppose that’s why I’m a real Paine, through and through. Although my auburn hair and my full figure came from my mother. She was a Bailey from over in Tishomingo, Mississippi. Her daddy, my granddaddy Bailey, was a pharmacist and her mother a teacher. I used to visit them often when I was growing up, but they both died before I turned twelve. They’d been older when they married and had my mama. She was an only child.

“I was very fortunate that my daddy had two old maid sisters who both doted on me. It was like having two mothers. Although I have to admit, sometimes I felt a bit like a bone being tugged on at both ends by a couple of determined dogs. Aunt Lottie was the disciplinarian whereas Aunt Dottie let me get away with murder. I suppose it all evened out in the end, but—”

“TMI,” Vic blurted out, his head spinning from listening to this chattering woman.

“I beg your pardon?” She cocked her pretty little head and stared at him questioningly.

“Too much information, Ms. Penny Sue.”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. Wide. Full. Moist. His body hardened instantly when he thought about what her soft, moist mouth could do to him.

Then she licked her lips, running her tongue in a circular motion. “Is my lipstick smeared?” she asked. “Or do I have something in my—”

“Just show me to my room, okay?” He hadn’t meant to snap at her, but damn it, she unnerved him. “I need to check in with headquarters, unpack, and read over the file folder on Lucky.”

“Yes, of course. The rooms are this way.” She indicated left, then took several tentative steps down the hallway.

“Where does Lucky sleep?” Vic asked.

“What? Oh, Lucky used to sleep with Aunt Lottie. Now, he sleeps with me. If he’s not with me, he whines and cries all night.”

Lucky was a damn lucky dog to sleep in Penny Sue’s bed every night.

“And where is your room?”

She looked in the opposite direction, to the rooms on the right. “First door, down that way. It used to be Grandmother Paine’s room. It’s the largest room in the house and has a small attached room in the turret. That used to be the nursery.”

“Is there a bed in the turret room?”

“Yes, a day bed.”

“I’ll sleep there.”

“You can’t.”

“Why can’t I?” he asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t be proper, that’s why. There is a connecting door between the old nursery and my bedroom. Besides, you wouldn’t have your own bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay.” He held up a restraining hand. “No need to elaborate. Tonight, I’ll sleep in one of the other bedrooms. Down there.” He motioned toward the rooms on the left. “But if I’m still on this assignment tomorrow night, after we bring Lucky home—”

“What do you mean, if you’re still on this assignment?”

Vic groaned. “Dundee sent me because there was no other agent available. I’ve been promised a replacement as soon as possible, which I’m hoping will be tomorrow.”

Penny Sue tilted her chin and stuck her cute little nose up in the air. “I take it that you don’t like Alabaster Creek.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t want this job.”

“Am I the reason you’re in such a hurry for your employer to send in a new agent? You don’t like me, do you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then you do like me?”

He huffed. “Yes, I like you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“My liking you is the problem.”

“Oh.”

“Now that we have that settled…”

“The second and third rooms down the hall. Take your pick,” Penny Sue said, a self-satisfied look on her face. “I have things to do myself, to get ready for tonight. But if you need anything, just let me know. I want your stay, however brief, to be a pleasant one.”

“Thanks.”

She turned and walked away, but then she stopped midway down the stairs and called back to him. “I like you, too. And I hope Dundee never sends another agent.”

## Chapter 3

“Get me out of here. I don’t care how you do it, just get me the hell out of Alabama. And the sooner, the better.”

“Things can’t be that bad, can they?” Daisy asked, amusement in her voice. “After all, you just arrived there a few hours ago.”

“Are you laughing?”

“Laughing? Me?” She smothered a giggle. “I’m simply amazed that you’re this uptight about an assignment. I’ve never seen you flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” Vic growled.

“Oh, no, of course not. You’re upset because—”

“I’m not upset. I just want off this stupid assignment.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” I’ve got the hots for Penny Sue Paine, that’s what happened, he thought, but he wasn’t about to confide that embarrassing bit of information to Daisy. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he? Everyone at Dundee thought of him as Mr. Cool.

“Before you left Atlanta today, I promised you a replacement at the earliest possible moment,” Daisy told him. “Lucie should be back in the country next week and Dom’s latest assignment might end early and he could be available within ten days.”

“Next week is too long.” Vic groaned inwardly. He couldn’t stand a week of walking around with a hard-on, caused by the most talkative, irritating, gorgeous, irresistible woman he’d ever met. If they’d met in a social situation where he could walk away and not look back, he would do just that. He’d done it before when he’d been physically attracted to the wrong kind of woman. And God knew Penny Sue Paine was about as wrong as you could get. Wrong for him, that is. She’d make some local yokel a great little wife. The kind of wife who baked cookies, attended PTA meetings, took the kiddies to Sunday school and would appease all her husband’s needs in and out of the bedroom.

Now where had that last thought come from? From below his belt, that’s where.

“Vic? Vic, are you still there?” Daisy asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m still here. And I expect you to perform a miracle and get another agent to swap assignments with me. If you can do that, I’ll owe you big-time.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but it could take several days.”

Several days? Just how long would his resolve to not make a move on Penny Sue last? “Yeah, sure. Okay. I should be able to make it for a few days.”

“I’m sure you can. Whatever’s got you running scared can’t be that bad.”

“Who says I’m running scared?” Vic practically shouted the question.

“Sorry. I just meant—”

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. It’s not your fault that I got stuck with this assignment. It’s not anyone’s fault. Just the luck of the draw, I guess.”

“Vic, I promise I’ll get someone to replace you just as soon as I possibly can.”

A soft knock sounded on the closed bedroom door and then a sweet, sexy voice called, “Vic, supper’s ready. It’ll be just you and me and Aunt Dottie. Come on down whenever you’re ready.”

“Be right there, Penny Sue,” Vic replied, then said into the phone, “Thanks, Daisy. I’ve got to go.”

“Hmm…already on a first-name basis with Ms. Paine, huh?”

“Don’t go there,” Vic warned.

Daisy laughed. “Enjoy your supper.” Then she hung up before Vic could say anything else.

He closed his cell phone, inserted it in the belt holder, walked to the door and opened it. Penny Sue stood there smiling at him. Pretty Penny Sue. He tried to concentrate on her beautiful face so he wouldn’t react sexually to her, but despite his best efforts, he let his gaze travel over her quickly before refocusing on her face. His body stirred to life, reminding him how attracted he was to this woman. Instant attraction. It happened to people. Even to him. But only a couple of times in the past. And never with a nice girl like Penny Sue.

Maybe she’s not so nice, an inner voice suggested. Could be she knows exactly what kind of vibes she’s putting out. It’s not as if she’s a teenage virgin. A woman her age had to know the score. Right?

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re acting mighty peculiar,” Penny Sue said. “You’re not sick or anything, are you?”

He willed his libido and erring thoughts under control, then cleared his throat. “I’m fine.” Smile at her, he told himself, but he couldn’t quite manage it. He wasn’t the kind of guy who went around grinning like an idiot.

“Supper’s ready. I imagine you’re hungry. Flying always makes me ravenous. I don’t know why. Come to think of it, traveling of any kind makes me hungry. And wears me tee-totally out, too. Some people can drive hundreds of miles and it doesn’t affect them, but if I drive to Huntsville and back, I’m wiped out. What about you? Are you one of those…”

He wanted to tell her to shut up, to remind her that she was rattling, that she talked way too much and about absolutely nothing of any importance. But instead he simply concentrated not on what she was saying, but the way her mouth moved and the way her dark eyes sparkled.

He followed her along the hallway and down the stairs, nodding occasionally and saying uh-huh a couple of times as if he were actually listening to her instead of struggling not to grab her and kiss her to make her shut up. When they reached the dining room, she turned to him and said something, then waited for a response. Okay, his goose was cooked. He had no idea what she’d asked him.

“Would you repeat that?” He made direct eye contact with her, hoping she would take that as a sign of interest.

“I said I want us to have a big Christmas wedding and I’d like to be pregnant with our first child when we return from our honeymoon,” Penny Sue said, her expression dead serious.

“What!”

“When I asked you to marry me, you said uh-huh. Didn’t you mean it? Are you saying now that you’re having second thoughts?”

Despite the earnest expression on her face, Vic realized she was joking, paying him back for his lack of attention. “No second thoughts. Only I’d prefer waiting until New Year’s Day to get married. Start the year off right.”

Penny Sue’s lips spread into a tentative smile. “You haven’t listened to a word I said. You just tuned me out, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I did.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He stared at her, wondering if she truly didn’t know. “Because you talk too damn much, that’s why.”

Her smile vanished. “You can be so rude.”

“Sorry. But I have a tendency to be blunt-spoken.”

“You must hurt people’s feelings a great deal.”

“Not intentionally.”

As he followed her into the dining room, she said, “I really don’t understand your lack of manners. I can tell from your accent that you’re from the South.” When she stopped dead still just beyond the open pocket doors, he skidded to a halt, barely preventing himself from barreling into her. She whipped around and glared at him. “You are from the South, aren’t you?”

“Born and bred in Kentucky. Lafayette, Kentucky, to be exact.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you how important good manners are?” Her big brown eyes bored into him, demanding a response.

“My old lady was too busy trying to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads to worry about unimportant things like good manners.”

“Oh. Oh, dear, Vic, I’m so terribly sorry. You were…poor.” She whispered the word as if saying it aloud would breach some idiotic code of etiquette.

“Nah, honey, I wasn’t just poor. I was white trash.” The only reason he decided to be so specific was because he hoped that knowing his background would warn her off, just in case he did make a move on her later. He figured the Paines didn’t associate with people of an inferior social class.

“Well, you certainly seem to have overcome your upbringing,” Dottie Paine said as she strolled into the dining room, in a flowing hot-pink jacket and matching slacks in some sort of silky material. “In my experience, self-made men are far superior to the ones who were handed everything on a silver platter.”

Forcing himself to ignore Penny Sue completely, he turned to her elderly aunt and smiled. “Why, thank you, ma’am.” Without so much as a by-your-leave to Penny Sue, he headed straight for Miss Dottie, pulled out her chair at the antique Duncan Phyfe dining table and assisted her in sitting. She looked up at him and batted her long black eyelashes. He chuckled inwardly. The old gal was actually flirting with him. He’d bet she’d been a real firecracker in her younger days. Not easy. No sir, not by any means. But the kind of woman who knew how to make a man glad to be a man.

Casting a sidelong glance at Penny Sue, he wondered if perhaps she possessed that same ability. Maybe it was a gift with which all the Paine women had been blessed. But you won’t be finding out for yourself, an inner voice reminded.

“We often eat in the kitchen or the breakfast room,” Dottie said. “But tonight, with a gentleman visiting, I thought it appropriate to dine in here. I hope that meets with your approval.” She glanced at her niece. “After all, it isn’t all that often that we have a man around the house. Not since dear Percy passed on.”

“Percy was my father,” Penny Sue explained as Vic pulled out a chair for her, being careful not to touch her.

Avoiding eye contact, he nodded, then took the seat opposite her.

Miss Dottie picked up a small silver bell and rang it. A tall, thin woman with short white hair, a straight back and a pleasant look on her plain face entered the room. Vic guessed her to be in her early sixties. She carried a silver tray laden with three salad plates.

Penny Sue made the introductions, which surprised Vic. In his experience, most people didn’t introduce their servants to a guest. “Ruby, this is Mr. Noble. He’ll be staying with us for a while. He’s the bodyguard I hired for Lucky.”

The housekeeper’s sharp blue eyes sparkled with good humor. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Noble.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs….?”

“Just Ruby.” She sized him up, then said, “I hope you like banana pudding.”

“I do,” he told her.

“If you’ve got any special requests while you’re staying here, just let me know,” Ruby said. “Tell me how you like your coffee, your eggs—”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Vic said. “I’m sure however you prepare things will be just fine.”

“Black coffee would be my guess. And scrambled eggs.” Ruby looked him over a second time. “No starch in your collars, right? You’re not a suit-and-tie kind of man.”

“Goodness, Ruby, stop giving him the third degree,” Dottie scolded.

“Kind of nice having a man about the place again, isn’t it, Miss Penny Sue?” Ruby winked at her as she set a salad plate in front of her. “Especially such a good-looking one.”

The minute Ruby disappeared into the kitchen, Penny Sue said, “You’ll have to forgive Ruby. She’s rather outspoken. And rather determined that I won’t die an old maid.”

“She never did learn her place,” Dottie said. “Then again, Mama and Daddy weren’t sticklers about servants keeping their place. A good servant is worth his or her weight in gold, Daddy always said.”

“And Grandmother Paine taught me that everyone should be treated the same,” Penny Sue added. “Treat people the way you want to be treated.”

These two Paine women were oddities, Vic thought. Old-fashioned Southern-belle types, but without the snooty superiority he’d grown accustomed to seeing in the women for whom his mother had slaved year in and year out.

From the salad through the entrée, dinner conversation hardly lulled for more than a minute or two, and during those brief lulls he supposed he’d been expected to contribute his input. But barely missing a beat when he didn’t respond, either Dottie or Penny Sue kept the chitchat going. Neverending, actually. Talk, talk, talk. And about nothing. Absolutely nothing. Apparently this ability was another Paine trait.

Just as Ruby served dessert—large bowls of banana pudding topped with thick meringue—the doorbell rang.

“It seems that somebody’s early for tonight’s family meeting,” Ruby grumbled. “It’s barely six-thirty.”

“Well, never mind,” Dottie said. “Go see who it is and show them into the front parlor.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it.” Penny Sue shoved back her chair and hopped to her feet. “I shouldn’t eat dessert anyway. It goes straight to my hips.” Emphasizing the word hips, she planted her hands just below her waist on either side and slid her open palms down over the smooth material of her tan suede skirt.

There was nothing wrong with her hips, Vic noted. They were perfect. Wide, rounded and totally feminine. He swallowed hard. Everything about Penny Sue was ultra-feminine, from her beautiful face to her great body to her soft laughter and the sexy way she moved. Unconsciously sexy, which was far more captivating than a blatant display.

“It’s probably Eula,” Dottie said. “She’s always early. Comes from having too much time on her hands since she retired.”

Penny Sue hurried from the room, her tan heels tapping on the wooden floor. Vic’s gaze followed her out into the hall, but from where he was sitting, he couldn’t see all the way to the front door.

“My niece is a lovely girl, isn’t she?” Dottie held a small, delicate hand to her throat and played with the short strand of pearls she wore.

“Yes ma’am, she is.”

“Are you married, Mr. Noble?”

A tight knot formed in the pit of Vic’s belly. “No ma’am, I’m not.”

“A man your age should have a wife.”

He wanted to ask her how she knew his age, but instead said, “I’m not good husband material. Too set in my ways.”

Just as Miss Dottie opened her mouth to reply—and Vic was certain the old lady would have had an excellent comeback—they heard Penny Sue screaming.

Loud, frightened screams.

Vic knocked over his chair as he jumped to his feet. If anything had happened to her, if anyone had dared to harm her… With his heart racing, he ran out of the dining room and into the foyer. Penny Sue stood at the open front door, her body trembling, her right hand drawn into a fist and pressed against her lips. Vic reached her in seconds, not knowing what danger she faced, but realizing that he would lay down his life to protect her. After he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to his side, she shut her eyes and pressed her body against his. While holding her, he maneuvered her around so that he could see whatever lay beyond the door. That’s when he saw what had made her scream. A small, open pet carrier had been placed on the porch, directly in front of the entrance. Inside the carrier lay a medium-size stuffed dog, a menacing butcher knife stuck through its body and what Vic assumed was fake blood of some sort oozing from the wound.

“It’s okay, honey.” He stroked her back soothingly. “It’s not a real dog. This is just somebody’s idea of a joke. A very sick joke.”

Penny Sue lifted her head and looked up at Vic, moisture glistening in her eyes. “I realize it’s not a real dog, but at first…for just a minute…I thought it was Lucky.” She eased away from him and turned to glare at the pet carrier. “I’m sorry about screaming. It’s just seeing him—that—” she nodded toward the gruesome sight “—was so totally unexpected. I don’t usually act like such a ninny.”

“You were frightened. It’s perfectly understandable that you’d react the way you did.” And he meant exactly what he’d said. It was understandable that on first glance she’d think the stuffed dog was Lucky and that she would scream. But what wasn’t understandable was why Penny Sue reacting in a typical female way didn’t irritate the hell out of him. As a general rule, he preferred his women sophisticated, even jaded. He avoided silly women who giggled or screamed or cried or talked too much.

“What the hell is that?” a man’s voice called from outside the gate at the end of the sidewalk.

“Oh dear, that’s Uncle Douglas,” Penny Sue groaned.

“Well, what’s all the ruckus about?” Dottie came up behind them, doing her best to see around Vic and Penny Sue. “That’s Douglas and Candy, isn’t it? Why on earth did Penny Sue scream?”

Reaching down to grasp Vic’s hand, Penny Sue took a deep breath. “Would you please get rid of it—all of it—right now?” Her words were whispered, for his ears only. “I’ll take care of Aunt Dottie and explain things to her and Uncle Douglas.”

“We should call the police first,” Vic told her.

“It won’t do a bit of good. Chief Miller isn’t going to waste his time on a stunt like that,” Penny Sue said. “The police aren’t the least bit interested in protecting Lucky.”

Vic nodded. In a way, he understood the police chief’s reasoning. Not many law enforcement officers would take threats on a dog’s life seriously and they’d do little more than laugh at the stuffed dog, even one that had been mutilated in such a grotesque fashion.

“I’ll take care of it,” Vic assured her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Nodding, she offered him a closed-mouth, forced smile.

He squeezed her arm reassuringly, then headed out the front door just as a gray-haired man and a woman of no more than thirty came up on the front porch. Penny Sue circled around Vic and met the visitors.

“Why on earth would somebody do such a darn fool thing?” Douglas Paine nursed a crystal tumbler half full of whiskey. Penny Sue had poured her uncle the drink herself, after she had calmed Aunt Dottie with soothing words and a hug.

“Don’t you think maybe somebody is just making fun of Penny Sue?” Candy Paine positioned her skinny behind on the arm of her husband’s chair and laid her hand on his knee. “It’s obviously just a joke. One of the family poking fun at the fact that Penny Sue thinks someone’s trying to kill Lucky.”

Penny Sue glared at Candy. “Someone did try to kill lucky.”

“So you keep telling us.” Candy rubbed her hand up and down Douglas’s leg. “But you’re the only one who believes such silliness.”

Eyeing Candy’s caressing hand, Aunt Dottie cleared her throat disapprovingly. Uncle Douglas grasped his young wife’s hand and lifted it in his. The whole family had been mortified when Douglas had married for the fourth time, more because of who he married than the fact it was his fourth walk down the aisle. Redheaded, bosomy Candy Coley had been a wannabe Vegas showgirl, someone Douglas Paine had met at a convention two years ago. After a whirlwind courtship, they’d been married in some shabby Vegas chapel by an Elvis impersonator. It hadn’t taken the family, including Douglas’s two children by his first wife, very long to realize Candy considered her new husband a real sugar daddy. However, despite his lucrative dental practice in Alabaster Creek, Douglas was not a millionaire—not yet. But when he inherited his share of Aunt Lottie’s fortune that fact would change immediately.

“Candy, dear, why don’t you come sit on the sofa by me?” Aunt Dottie asked. “You’ll be so much more comfortable than you are perched there on the arm of Douglas’s chair.”

Before Candy could reply, the doorbell rang.

“Let Ruby get it,” Dottie said.

Penny Sue nodded. Where was Vic? What was taking him so long? All he had to do was take the pet carrier and dump it in the garbage can in the detached three-car garage behind the house.

Eula Paine showed herself into the front parlor. “Am I late?” she asked.

“No, no,” Dottie said. “Douglas and Candy are early.”

The doorbell rang again. Ruby called from the foyer, “I might as well keep the front door open at this rate.”

Within five minutes, the front parlor filled with Paine relatives. Aunt Lottie’s heirs. And last, but not least, coming in at seven o’clock on the dot, was Uncle Willie. Since this was, for all intents and purposes, a business meeting as far as Uncle Willie was concerned, Aunt Pattie hadn’t come with him tonight as she usually did to Paine functions. After all, she, not he, was the blood relative.

Penny Sue kept glancing out into the foyer, wondering what had happened to Vic. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? He’d known she wanted him present for this meeting.

Once she had made the rounds and welcomed everyone, taking her hostess duties seriously, Aunt Dottie came over to Penny Sue and clutched her hand. “Perhaps he has decided to forego this family meeting.”

“What?”

“You’re concerned about Mr. Noble, aren’t you?”

“Not concerned, just wondering where he is.”

“The natives are getting restless.” Dottie squeezed her hand. “Why don’t I have Ruby see what everyone wants to drink. It might keep them pacified. In the meantime, you go find Mr. Noble. I’m sure he can convince the others that Lucky needs a bodyguard.”

“What about you, Aunt Dottie, are you convinced?”

“It’s not my decision to make. It’s yours. And I support you in whatever you do. Haven’t I always?”

Penny Sue sighed. “Yes, of course you have. Even when Aunt Lottie…well, we both know she could be rather stern at times.”

“Lottie loved you, my dear, and trusted you more than anyone in the family,” Dottie said. “She wouldn’t have entrusted Lucky to anyone else. That says a great deal about how much faith she had in you. And although I think it was rather foolish of her to have left her money to her dog, I do think she made the right choice in naming you the executor of her will. I’ve done the same, you know.”

“You’ve done what?”

“I named you executor of my will,” Dottie replied. “Of course, I won’t be leaving such a sizable fortune, but—”

“Oh, my…my goodness.” Penny Sue hugged her tiny, fragile aunt. As her father used to say, “Dottie’s so thin that she looks as if a strong wind would blow her away.”

“When are we going to start the meeting?” Stacie Paine asked. She was Uncle Douglas’s eldest child, an old-maid schoolteacher, who had turned forty her last birthday.

“It’s already past seven,” Valerie said as she stood up and took a prominent position in front of the fireplace. “I see no reason to delay things. If everyone is ready—”

“We should begin the meeting with a prayer,” Reverend Clayton Dickson proclaimed loudly in a voice that singled him out as a preacher of the gospel.

Clayton was Penny Sue’s first cousin once removed, her father’s first cousin. Clayton’s mother had been one of the few Paine women to snag herself a husband. Since marrying Phyllis and getting religion, Clayton had become a fanatic, totally obsessed with sin and salvation.

Chris Paine, Stacie’s younger brother, groaned loudly and rolled his dark eyes toward the ceiling. He and Clayton had once been best friends, back in their teens when they’d both been hell-raisers. But in recent years, their friendship long dead, Chris took every opportunity to ridicule his cousin.

“A prayer never hurts,” Eula said. “Get on with it, Clayton.”

To everyone’s dismay, except his wife Phyllis’s, Clayton dropped to his knees, right there in the front parlor on Grandmother Paine’s Persian carpet. He lifted his folded hands in front of him, closed his eyes and beseeched his maker for mercy on his sinful soul.

While the others sat quietly and at least pretended to listen to Clayton’s prayer, Penny Sue slipped out of the parlor as quietly as possible. Taking the downstairs rooms, one by one, she searched for Vic. When she entered the kitchen, Ruby paused in her preparations and glanced at Penny Sue.

“Did you come to help me get these drinks out to the parlor?” Ruby asked. “I’m getting too old to be lifting such heavy trays.”

“I’ll be glad to help you,” Penny Sue replied, “but not right now. I’m looking for Vic. For Mr. Noble.”

“He’s out there on the back porch with Tully,” Ruby said. “He’s going over that stuffed dog and the carrier it was in, searching for something.”

“What’s he searching for?”

“How should I know? And I need help now with these drinks, not later.”

“Why don’t you just make two trips to the parlor with those drinks,” Penny Sue said. “Or ask Stacie or Cousin Eula to help you. I really need to speak to Vic.”

Ruby grunted and mumbled to herself.

Just as Penny Sue opened the back door and took her first step onto the porch, Vic glanced up from where he sat beside Tully in old, identical wicker rockers.

“The family meeting is ready to start,” she told Vic. “I’d like for you to come and meet everyone.”

Without hesitation, Vic rose from the rocker. “See you later, Tully.”

The old man nodded.

Vic took Penny Sue’s elbow and turned her around, then escorted her inside before she had a chance to say anything else.

As they walked out of the kitchen, she asked, “Why were you looking over the pet carrier and stuffed dog? What were you searching for?”

He paused, eyed her quizzically and grunted.

“Ruby said you were—” she continued.

“Nothing in particular,” he told her. “Just some general checking. Not really any scientific testing. After all, I don’t have the equipment, but I would like to send everything to the Dundee lab first thing in the morning.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that red stuff on the toy dog was real blood.”

## Chapter 4

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.