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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

Once I reached the airport, I pulled to a stop in the gravel parking lot, got out of the car, and sprinted closer to the action. There were about seven police cars there now, and most of the cops were braced against them, guns drawn. The guns were all pointed toward a small, private airplane that was parked out in front of the hangar. A man I didn’t recognize stood in front of the plane with his hands up in the air. Detective Sollie was pointing a gun at him from several feet away as Detective Keegan headed for the plane itself. As we all watched, he opened the passenger-side door of the plane and then held out the gun, shouting. Slowly, Alan Bennet stepped from the plane, hands clasped behind his head.

I didn’t believe it. We had done it! We had caught the murdering thief before he skipped town! I did feel a rush of disappointment that Monty Redburn wasn’t also there. The plane had held only two people—Alan and the pilot. That meant Redburn was still at large. And Judith Smythe was nowhere to be found.

Still, a nearly audible sigh of relief seemed to sweep through the waiting policemen as the detective snapped handcuffs on Bennet’s wrists. They put down their guns and made jokes and laughed away the tension. I blew out a deep breath myself and headed for the tarmac.

I looked around as I walked, noting that the airport itself wasn’t much more than a big open field with one paved runway, a few gas pumps, a hangar, and a main building. There were about ten small private planes parked in a row alongside the hangar, and an old tower out behind the main building. That was about it.

Walking among the small crowd that had gathered, I tried to be unobtrusive but observant, watching as they pulled Bennet’s luggage from the plane and listening as they read him his rights. The pilot was claiming that he didn’t even know Alan and hadn’t ever met him before he was hired to fly him to Vermont.

As they were leading Alan to the car, he happened to look my way. Our eyes met and I held his gaze, thinking how hard it was to believe that I was looking into the face of a murderer, or at least an accomplice to murder.

I noticed movement off to my left, and I glanced that way, stunned to see a dented red pickup truck tearing into the parking lot. It came to a screeching halt, dust flying, and out jumped Monty Redburn, a high-powered rifle in his hands.

“Gun!” I screamed, dropping to the ground and flattening myself against the pavement. I heard a cracking boom and then more gunfire in response. “You liar!” Monty screamed from the parking lot. “You’re a liar! A thief and a liar!”