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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 could tell he was feeling defensive, and I felt bad that I’d had to challenge the integrity of one of his beloved parishioners. I was quiet for a moment, wondering how I could keep him talking, maybe get him to shed a light or two on Sidra’s relationship with Derek. I wondered if he knew about the “incidents” at the house. Finally, I made a big show of pulling my notebook from my purse, flipping to the list of suspects, and scratching off Sidra’s name.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “That’s one down at least.”

“Glad I could be of help.”

“It’s my understanding that Sidra and her husband are separated,” I said. “In your opinion, is she—”

“That’s enough questions,” he said abruptly, standing.

After a moment’s hesitation, I stood as well.

“I’d like to know who ’tis exactly that you’re working for,” he said as he escorted me toward the door.

“The family,” I said. “Well, Mrs. Smythe, in a way.”

“Don’t tell me Marion suspects her own daughter-in-law of murder?”

“Goodness, no!” I said, hoping I showed enough shock at the question to get back in his good graces. “I’m working on behalf of the family. I’m just establishing ironclad alibis so there won’t be any questions further down the line.”

“I see. Well, good luck to you then.”

“Though I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this conversation to Sidra. Marion doesn’t really want the rest of the family to know that I’m investigating, and for the time being I need to keep it that way.”

“As you wish.”

“The police will probably contact you soon with the same questions that I had. Just tell them what you told me.”

“Of course,” he said, and then he opened the door and held it as I stepped out.

“Pastor Quinn—” I started, turning back around.

“Good day,” he replied, cutting me off. Then he shut the door, just as Gwen had earlier, telling me in no uncertain terms that our conversation was over. That is the second time today, I thought as I headed for my car, that someone has ushered me out of somewhere and then closed the door in my face.

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

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The wake was scheduled to run from seven to nine at the Morrison Funeral Home, though the family was expected to arrive about a half hour early. I got to the house just as they were gathering in the foyer to leave, which was perfect timing as far as I was concerned. Now I had a good excuse for being late: I still had to get ready.