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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

I stood carefully, feeling an aching throb in my back. Looking upward, I analyzed my situation, wondering how I was going to get out. I pressed my hands against the walls, testing the dirt, finally deciding that the only choice would be to dig some hand- and footholds out of the wall and climb up. I used the billy club to start digging, gouging out holes at two-foot intervals. When I had dug as high as I could reach, I tested the holes. I pulled myself up a few feet before the dirt collapsed and I landed back on the ground. Ouch.

I tried again, making the holes deeper and farther apart. This time, I was able to pull myself up higher and then stand there while I dug more holes.

It would be slow going, I knew, but eventually I felt sure I could reach the top of the gravesite. I looked at my watch—there were only 15 minutes until the funeral would begin. I knew I’d never make it.

I climbed up to dig a higher handhold and suddenly felt the dirt crumble under my foot again. I landed on my behind with a thud and let out a scream of pain and frustration.

“Hello?” I heard. “Is someone there?”

“Down here!” I yelled, as loudly as I could. After a moment, I saw the face of a young man peer nervously over the edge of the grave.

“Ahhh!” he screamed when he saw me. “What are you doing in there?”

He peered down at me in horror. I looked up at him, trying to remain calm, afraid he would bolt and I’d never get out.

“Help me!” I said. “I fell in.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. But I can’t get out. I need a rope or something.”

“Just a minute.”

He disappeared, and while I waited for him I brushed the dirt from my clothes, picked up the threatening letter from the ground, and put it into my pocket.

I wondered if Judith was responsible for this. If so, then whom had she gotten to do the dirty work for her? Was Spike on her payroll? Had he pushed me in here on her orders? I reminded myself that just because Judith was the one who had been vandalizing Sidra, that didn’t mean she had also murdered her father—or that any of my other suspects were off the hook.

Finally, my young warrior returned, clutching what looked like a bright orange extension cord.

“Don’t have any rope,” he called down to me. “Think this’ll do?”