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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 exited the barn, sliding the board into place along the front of it. I realized that I had made an error in judgment last night by going to bed when I did. I should’ve gone into the main house, gotten out of my wet bathing suit and into some warm, dry clothing, and then come back out here to wait them out, to see what was on the agenda besides their little bout of hanky-panky. Now all I could do was wonder if their meeting here had been connected with the fake blood on Sidra’s windows.

From where I stood, I could see Nick in the distance, alone now, hosing down the back of the cabana, the red liquid pouring from the windowsills, diluted by the hose water until it ran clear. About halfway between us I noticed a tree house built high into a large oak tree. I decided that if it was sturdy, it might be a perfect spot for surveillance. Tonight, I knew, I would come back there and man my post, watching to see if any new mischief was afoot.

Without question, I wouldn’t be caught sleeping on the job again.

Sixteen

Sixteen

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Traffic into the city was light, so despite all the delays back at the house, I still managed to arrive ten minutes early for my meeting with Duane Perskie, the local PI supervising my case. I took the exit for Independence Mall, then found a parking place nearby, right on the street—a miracle in Philadelphia, to say the least.

We were supposed to meet at the Liberty Bell at ten o’clock; Duane had said he had a 10:30 meeting nearby. I glanced at my watch, slipped some change into the parking meter, and decided I would just have time for a quick stroll around my favorite part of town before meeting up with him.

As I headed toward Independence Square, I thought of how much I loved everything about the historic district. Visiting the sights of Philadelphia always made me swell with a sort of patriotic pride—even more so, in a way, than the monuments and landmarks of Washington, DC. Though DC was certainly impressive and awe inspiring, I always found that whenever I passed the Library of Congress or the White House or the Senate buildings, I saw the hundreds of people in them working hard to keep the wheels of our nation’s capital turning. Philadelphia, on the other hand, was like a moment frozen in time, a turning back of the clock, a preservation of some of the greatest events in our nation’s history. I loved touring the Graff House, where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, and Independence Hall, where the Declaration and the Constitution were signed. I didn’t have time to go there now, so I contented myself with walking along the blocks of the square, pausing to enjoy the gorgeous sun and perfect blue sky above me.