1 In For A Penny by Maggie Toussaint

Author:Maggie Toussaint [Toussaint, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Published: 2012-07-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The house where Jasper and his mother lived had an uncared-for look, like the owners had moved to Florida a few years ago and neglected to sell the place. High grass filled the yard in front of the tired two-story clapboard house. Trees encroached on the house from the sides and rear, as if the forest was reclaiming the acreage and the forest was winning.

Two beagles reclining on the junk-filled porch bayed at our approach. I stopped in the rutted, weed-choked lane. My golf cleats might come in handy if I had to make a rapid getaway through this thick growth.

There were no cars in the drive, no sign of recent civilization if one didn’t count the satellite dish on the sagging roof. In my mind I could hear banjos twanging like they did in that movie about isolated inbred country folk.

Didn’t Rafe pay Jasper anything down at the golf club? From the looks of this place Jasper desperately needed a raise. And a bush hog to find his yard again. At the golf course Jasper had access to all kinds of mowing machines. Why didn’t he bring one home and clean up this mess?

Or, did he like hiding out in the woods? This level of overgrowth would certainly discourage visitors.

Jonette reached up and locked her door. “I’m not getting out. This place is too spooky.”

“You are too getting out.” I hit the master lock button and unlocked all the doors. “I’m trying to keep your butt out of jail. If I’m risking my neck for you, the least you can do is provide moral support.”

Jonette eyed the high grass and frowned. “I’m going to get ticks and God knows what else if I step foot out there.”

So was I, but what was the point in whining about it? I opened my door. “What’s a few ticks among friends?”

The beagles bayed louder as we approached the porch. The eerie noise reminded me of the sound hunting dogs made when they found something that smelled like dinner. I sure hoped these dogs didn’t have food on the brain.

I stopped short of the badly warped, unpainted porch steps. If I had to defend myself against the killer dogs, I had my keys, my pocketbook, and Jonette. Not an arsenal by any means. If I was going to take investigating seriously, I would have to be better prepared for danger in the future. It might be time to dig Daddy’s pistol out from under my bed.

I hollered above the din of barking dogs, “Mrs. Cooper? You in there?”

“Okay. We did this.” Jonette tugged on my arm. “No one’s here. Let’s go.”

I stood firm. A thump inside alerted me that someone was in the house. “Wait.”

When no one greeted us, I tried again. “Mrs. Cooper, are you in there?”

The interior door creaked open. I heard an unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. A metallic cylinder thrust through a hole in the screen door. “Who wants to know?” a gravelly voice called out.

The object in the door was a rifle barrel, and it was pointing right at me.

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