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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

By the time I reached the house, I didn’t feel like seeing or speaking to anyone. Fortunately, the place was quiet, and I made my way up the stairs and to my room without encountering a soul. Once there, I threw myself across the bed and tried to clear my mind of every thought and every emotion. Instead, all I could see was Bryan. Bryan, grinning at me as we climbed on our bicycles for a bike ride. Bryan, stepping from the shower and teasing me with a shy smile. Bryan, losing himself in concentration as he studied the paperwork in front of him.

Bryan. Three years might as well have been three days for all my heart had managed to let go. I pressed my hands against my eyes and tried to wrench myself away from the images that filled my head. I wondered, not for the first time, if I would ever get through a single day without thinking of him, without missing him. I told myself, as I always did, how lucky I had been to have him in my life. Better five years in a wondrous, near-perfect marriage than 30 years in a miserable one. Still, I thought, I’m ready to bargain; maybe a little less happiness and a little more time? How about that, God? Do we have a deal?

I sat up, shaking my head. When you try to strike a deal with God, it’s time to change the subject.

I headed for the bathroom and a hot shower, letting the water pound away the thoughts from my brain. I knew that part of my problem was sheer exhaustion, and I thought back over the most recent run of cases I had worked. While my canoe sat mostly unused and dusty in my shed at home, I had jetted off to five different states in the last three months. Usually, extra work like that gave me an escape, a way to distract my mourning heart. But I think this time I had pushed it all too far. Between my fatigue and the events of this particular case, I was near the breaking point. The only place I really wanted to be right now was out on the water with an oar in my hand, paddling along the Chesapeake. Instead, I was a prisoner of Pennsylvania with an ongoing murder investigation as my only distraction.

After my shower, I took extra care applying my makeup, fixing my hair. Going through the motions was somehow soothing, and I felt myself lulled into a sort of numbness, my best defense when all else failed.