BooksBarbecue
Back A Penny for Your Thoughts Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. A PENNY
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Forty-Nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-One
  56. Fifty-Two
  57. Fifty-Three
  58. Fifty-Four
  59. A Sample Chapter of Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels
  60. About the Author
  61. Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
  62. About the Publisher

“Just film the door,” I said quietly. “We’ll get in there once she’s gone.”

It didn’t take long—maybe a minute at the most. From our hidden spot along the wall, we watched as Judith stepped back out of the garage and then quickly sprinted across the lawn toward the house. Once she was inside the house, we headed into the garage.

We smelled its scent before we could see it—paint thinner or nail polish remover.

“Callie!” Carlos whispered, waving me over as he stood filming the hood of a pale green Mercury. As I got there, I realized that Judith had poured the chemical all over the hood of the car, and that the paint was slowly bubbling up, ruining the finish.

“That’s my mom’s car,” Carlos said, lowering the camera. He looked at me with wide dark eyes, stunned at the destruction created by his own flesh and blood.

I couldn’t think of a word to say that would comfort him.

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Eight

image

“No way!” Carlos said, a forkful of pancake headed for his mouth. “They actually shot at you? With a real gun?”

I smiled and nodded and told him to keep his voice down.

“When it was all over with,” I said softly, recalling one of the more exciting cases in my investigative past, “they found a bullet in the wall, only three inches from where my head had been.”

He let out a low whistle.

“Did you dig it out? Did you keep it?”

I responded by taking out my car keys and setting them on the table between us. The spent bullet was encased in Plexiglas and hooked to my keychain, a farewell gift from Eli, who told me I should always carry it around as a reminder of how close I had come to danger.

“Awesome,” Carlos said for about the hundredth time. He held up the bullet and studied it closely, twisting it back and forth in the light.

I had been regaling Carlos with stories of my investigative past for the last hour. We were sitting at a corner table of a nearly empty diner, the sun just coming up outside. After the incident with Judith, I knew neither one of us would’ve been able to sleep, and so I had Carlos leave a note for his mother saying that we had gone for an early breakfast and would be back later. Then he and I had gotten in my car and headed here. What Carlos didn’t know was that while he was changing his clothes and getting cleaned up, I had also taken a moment to run into the main house and sneak into his father’s room; I had left a message for Derek propped against his mirror, asking him to please meet us here as soon as he woke up.