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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

Tucking my keys in my purse, I decided I would put Detective Perskie’s words behind me for the time being and concentrate on the task at hand. There was too much going on already. I would have to sort out my relationship with Tom later.

I got out of the car and headed for the garage elevator, stepped inside, and pressed the button for the sixth floor. The doors slid closed in front of me, and I studied my distorted reflection in the metal, wondering if I would ever know how Tom really felt about me. After all, when it came down to it, there was just one issue here: How could a man lay claim to a woman he’d never met face-to-face?

Seventeen

Seventeen

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By the time I got off the elevator, I felt reasonably calm and in control. As I stepped through the doors of Feed the Need, I couldn’t believe that only yesterday I had come here expecting to deliver a check and then leave unencumbered. What a difference a day makes!

I approached the receptionist, but before I said a word, she was on her feet, coming around the desk.

“Mrs. Smythe called,” she said, motioning for me to follow her. “She said to give you full use of any and all office equipment. Computer, fax, phones, whatever. I’m Kristy, by the way. With a K.”

“Kristy, hi,” I answered, following as she headed into the main area of the office. Marion and I had decided that we would say I was here using their facility for foundation business, that it was the least they could do considering the police wouldn’t let me leave town. Hopefully, that way people wouldn’t be on their guard around me, and I would be able to dig around a little and see if I could learn anything.

Kristy led me to a nice cubicle in the far corner. It had an L-shaped desk with a computer and phone, but otherwise it was empty.

“How’s this area?” she asked. “I wish I could give you a private office, but they’re all full.”

“A cubicle will be fine,” I answered, glad that a private office wasn’t available. This way I’d be visible and thus much more able to assimilate into the office quickly—not to mention that this would be a better spot for eavesdropping. It had long been my observation that office cubicles tend to lead people into a false sense of privacy—much like e-mail, cell phones, and other deceptive accoutrements of modern office life.