IN FOR A PENNY (The Granny Series) (21 page)

“Is that—
”

“What do you need now, Grammy Lil, advice on knocking over a convenience store?”

Lil’s back muscles tensed. “Certainly not.” She shoved her hand down the back of her pants and fished out the phone. “I thought we’d come to some understanding, and yet I found this in my pillowcase today. If you think you’re going to stay top dog around here by getting me in trouble, then you can just think again. I may be old, but I’m not feeble.” She’d already been taken in by Nash Talley and she was done playing the patsy.

“But—”

Lil held up a hand traffic cop style. “Martha, I don’t want excuses. I told you if you would help me, help my girls, that I would be loyal to you. Stop while you’re ahead.” Lillian tossed the phone at Martha, who snatched it out of the air with one swipe.

“You’re welcome,” Lillian said as she slammed the door behind her.

Before they could move forward with their plan to find Nash, Lillian called asking Maggie to come to the prison camp for visiting hours. Now Maggie watched Sera relaxing in the backseat of Abby Ruth’s crew cab dually, having one of those doggone Zen moments and humming what sounded like
On The Road Again
.

Maggie fluffed her shirt, praying for some relief from the summer heat. Didn’t these other women ever sweat?

“And we need to be sure Lillian understands that finding Nash and his money may not get her out of Walter Stiles, but will at least help us save her precious Summer Haven,” Abby Ruth said, then rattled off three other things she thought they needed to tell Lillian.

Maggie reached over and turned off the sports radio Abby Ruth had on. “Look,” she said a little too loudly. “I don’t know that you’ll even get in to see Lil. Just because I asked her to put you on the list doesn’t mean she’ll do it. And as far as what we need to say to her, she’s my best friend. I’ll do the talking.”

Abby Ruth gave her a what-the-heck look, then turned on a smile and an accent like the heavy syrup in canned peaches for the gate guard at Walter Stiles Prison Camp. “Yes, sugar. We’re here to see Lillian Summer Fairview.” She took the parking pass and tossed it in the dash, then maneuvered her massive truck through the packed parking lot.

“What is it?
Some kind of prison holiday or something?” Sera asked.

“This is crazy,” Maggie said. “How about over there?”

Abby Ruth floored the truck and headed to the farthest corner of the lot. “I’m not going to go up and down every blessed aisle. We can walk.”

The three of them piled out of the truck and began the hike up to the main building.

About a third of the way to the building, Maggie realized she wasn’t huffing or puffing. In all the recent chaos, her body seemed a little more…right. When she walked, that
swish-swish
of her inner thighs had disappeared. Her mood lifted, pushing away some of the worry that had been weighing her down about talking with Lillian today.

Abby Ruth stopped abruptly and flung both arms out, stopping Sera and Maggie in their tracks.

Maggie felt her left boob wrap around the woman’s bony arm. Okay, so not everything was skinnier.

“What?” Sera asked.

Abby Ruth shushed them both, then pulled them back between the scraggly red tips lining the sidewalk. “Look!”

Maggie batted the twigs from her face,
then peered out to take a look. A man in a dark uniform and cowboy hat was leaving the building they were headed toward. “Is that Teague? Oh, my God. That’s Teague.” She faced Sera. “He knows.”

Abby Ruth shook her head. “We don’t know
what
he knows. He’s the sheriff. His visit could be totally unrelated to Lillian.”

Maggie started sucking air. “We’re over an hour from Summer Shoals. I highly doubt it. He knows she’s here and he’s going to…”

“Stop it. Just simmer down.” Abby Ruth grabbed Maggie’s hand. “Seriously. Slow down. Breathe. All I need is you having a heart attack here in the bushes.”

Sera rubbed Maggie’s shoulders. “It’s okay. Even if he knows, it doesn’t mean he knows everything. We’ve got this, Maggie.”

They hunched in the bushes and watched as Teague made his way through the parking lot and got in his car. When he finally turned out of the main gate, they broke free from the cover.

“That was close,” Abby Ruth said. “We sure didn’t want him to see us here.”

“Come on,” Maggie said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, the prison guard who’d checked Maggie and Sera in before was on duty again.
“Names?”

“Maggie Rawls.” She handed over her license.

“Clear.”

Abby Ruth stood with her legs braced and thrust her ID at the guard.
“Abby Ruth Cady.”

“Clear.”

Maggie goggled at both women, but Abby Ruth just lifted a shoulder and strolled around the table.

The guard glanced up at Sera. “Reverend Marcus, go right in.”

“Bless you, my child.”

“What the hell was that?” Abby Ruth demanded. “Reverend Marcus?”

“Long story,” Maggie told her. Then she spotted Lil sitting at a table with another inmate. The woman was younger, probably in her forties. Dark hair pulled back in a wide headband, high cheekbones, no smile. She was pretty in a harsh sort of way. But why the heck was she sitting at Lil’s table?

Lil stood and although her posture was as straight as ever, she seemed to have shrunk since they locked her up in this place a little over a month ago. She hugged Sera and then Maggie. Her arms wrapped around Lil’s shoulders, Maggie couldn’t help but feel the sharp bones.

“Lil, are they treating you okay?”

Lil smiled, but it seemed
forced. “It’s not the Ritz, but I’m making do.” She turned to Abby Ruth. “Lillian Summer Fairview.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Abby Ruth gestured at Maggie and Sera. “You’ve got some real loyal friends here.”

Lillian swallowed. “Don’t know what I’d do without them. Thanks to all three of you for coming today.”

They settled at the table and Maggie asked, “What did Teague want?”

“Teague Castro?” Lil’s eyebrows winged up.

Maggie nodded. “Is he the reason you called us to come visit? And by the way, I didn’t even know you
could
call.”

“I can’t do it often.” She glanced over at the dark-haired woman. “The regular phone costs money, but I had a little help.”

“Oh, Lil.” Maggie started to stand and dig in her pocket. “I can—”

“No, save any money for Summer Haven and don’t expect me to call often.”

Maggie plopped back down and eyed the inmate who’d yet to do more than look them all up and down as if they were from another planet. “Want to introduce us to your friend, Lil?”

“Oh! This is B—” Lillian paused
midintro, “—Martha. Now, what’s this about Teague?”

“He was here,” Sera said. “We just saw him come out of the building and then drive off.”

“Well, he wasn’t here to visit me.”

“We don’t need the sheriff poking his nose in your business,” Sera said. “We need to get him out of the way.”

“I like the way you think, blondie,” Lil’s buddy said. “I could teach you a thing or two about how to do that.”

“That’s all we need,” Abby Ruth grumbled. “Y’all don’t worry about Teague. I’ll figure out a way to handle him if it comes down to it.”

“Fine,” Lil said. “About going to Nash-ville—”

Maggie cut her off. “We haven’t been there.”
Again. Yet.
Lil didn’t need to know they’d already been inside once and that they already had their next visit planned down to the minute. Maggie hated lying to her, but Lil had enough to worry about in this place. “But if we do, I have the…um…tools for the job.”

“That’s a start, but the tools are one thing,” Lil said. “Knowing how to use them is another. My new friend, Martha, knows a thing or two about how to help you get to Nash-ville and what to do once you get there. So I want you to listen up.”

New friend?
Maggie didn’t like the sound of that but she loved hearing the take-charge tone in Lillian’s voice. This was the Lillian she knew. Not that droopy do-the-time-no-questions-asked chick she saw last time. But Lord a mercy, Lil had rounded up a specialist to help them. She’d sure changed her tune since the last visit.

Abby Ruth arched an eyebrow at Maggie.
Suck it up, sugar.
Abby Ruth might already have a plan lined out, but they would listen to Lillian and her friend, no matter how much Abby Ruth hated being told what to do.

Maggie made a slicing motion under the cover of the table, and Abby Ruth pulled back. She might not like it, but at least she wouldn’t cause a scene.

“So,” Martha said, “you think you’re all packed for your vacation to Nash-ville, right?”

Maggie nodded.

“Couple things you want to be sure and put in your bag.”

Maggie dug for a piece of scrap paper, but Martha snatched it out of her hand.
“None of that.” The guard glanced over, but the paper had disappeared into Martha’s fist. “We don’t do packing lists. You get me?”

“I think so,” Maggie said.

Martha proceeded to spout about a hundred and fifty tips for a successful breaking and entering, all in code.
Like I’m supposed to remember all this?
By the time the woman wound down, Maggie’s head was one big whirling ache.

Lillian leaned toward her. “I’m worried. Maybe you shouldn’t—”

“Lil, you trusted me with Summer Haven, trust me with this.”

“If you’re sure.”

No, I’m not sure, but that’s not going to stop me anymore.
“We’re heading to Nash-ville tomorrow night.”

Lillian drew back and covered her mouth.
“So soon?”

“The sooner we
go, the better.”

“What time?”

“After dark. The driving’s easier then.”

The visiting room guard strode over. “Ladies, I have to ask you to wrap this up. Visiting hours
are over.”

They all stood and Lil hugged Maggie hard. “I’ll call you to check in while you’re on the road. Be sure to pick up at 9:30 p.m. or I’ll get worried.”

Maggie nodded. “I’ll answer, no matter what.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

With muted conversations as background noise, Teague sat at his usual table at the diner staring at his usual breakfast—two eggs over easy, bacon, hash browns and a biscuit. Only that feeling in his gut wasn’t the usual. No, it was more like indigestion because if he let Abby Ruth go hog wild crazy on his watch, Jenny Cady wasn’t going to be happy. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Jenny.
Again. But he was the one who’d put Abby Ruth in the Summer Haven mix and now she wasn’t telling him everything.

Maggie walked into the diner and took a seat at the counter across from where Teague sat. She picked up a menu, but in the mirror lining the wall he caught her eyeing him over the top of the plastic folder.

“Teague!” A broad smile on her face, Maggie spun around on the red vinyl-topped stool. “Good morning.”

Why did he get the feeling she wasn’t really surprised to see him?

Teague pushed his plate to the center of the table. “How’re things out at Summer Haven?”

“Good.
Real good.”

Teague smiled and paused just to make her a little nervous. “No more branches or flying toilets?”

She rapped her knuckles in the counter. “Knock on wood, we haven’t had any more surprises. Just trying to keep everything shipshape so when Lillian gets back she’s pleasantly surprised.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get it all done before she gets back.” Teague watched for her reaction to see if she was picking up his subtle hints. “I bet she’ll be so happy to be back home it won’t even matter.”

Maggie’s lips tightened.

She knows I know. That’ll teach them to try to keep things from me.
Teague smiled broadly. “Let me know if there’s something I can do for you.”

“Well, now that you mention it, there is one little thing.” Maggie slid off the stool and sat down at his table. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Had a little heartburn lately,” he said. “Now what can I help you with?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. If you’re not feeling well, I can take care of it myself.”

Yeah, kinda like you took care of the tree limbs?

“Maggie, help is my middle name.”

“Well…it’s time to get all that money out of the fountain again. I never realized how heavy coins were until I filled a bucket the other day. Darn thing is still sitting there in the fountain. I could barely lift it, much less tote it to the truck.”

For God’s sake, maybe they would decide to raise a barn by themselves next. “Don’t you go lifting those heavy
buckets.”

“Well, I need it cleared out today. I know
it’s short notice, but I need to turn that money in to fund a couple of the projects, else—”

He raised a hand. “I’ll come over after my shift.”

“Perfect! We’ll make supper for you.”

“You
cooking?” Teague tried to not sound unappreciative. “I’ve heard about some of the things Sera has been cooking over there. I don’t think I could stomach tofu.”

“Oh, honey, I’d never put you through that. I’ll make you my special chicken pot pie. It was George’s favorite.” Maggie jumped up from the table and headed for the door.

“Maggie?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you having breakfast?”

“Oh…um…you know, I think I’ll just grab something on the run and get on over to the market and buy those pot pie fixings.” She hurried out.

What? Did she think there was gonna be a run on chickens at eight in the morning?

It was just a few minutes after five when Teague pulled up in front of the Summer Haven fountain in his sheriff’s car. Maggie hunched over the fountain and dipped a scoop of coins into a bucket. This had seemed like a foolproof plan this morning, but now her fingers tingled and it was probably more from nearly hyperventilating over what she was about to do than from dipping coins out of the stupid fountain.

The pitcher of her
special
tea was set up on the tailgate of Abby Ruth’s truck. Teague loved that concoction so she knew he wouldn’t refuse it, even though she’d kicked the bourbon up a notch to be sure it would mask the taste of the extra little something. The mixture Sera had put together felt like an
arrest me
neon sign flashing across her forehead.
Lord, please forgive me. I swear it’s all for good.

Maggie wiped her brow, pretending she couldn’t scoop another cupful, although she was feeling quite invigorated from the activity. It was nice to fake it rather than feel it. Maybe all that tofu and natural food Sera was cooking for them, coupled with the exercise class at the fitness center,
was finally paying off.

“Teague, I poured us a couple of glasses of special tea. Would you mind fetching me my mug, getting yourself a glass and joining me for a quick break?”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He trotted right over there like a service dog and delivered hers, sipping his own along the way.

Her stomach clenched. Would he taste the difference? Spit it out? Not take another sip? Lord, this plan had as many holes as Baby Swiss.

“You make the best tea around, Maggie.” Teague handed her the mug and she took a long swig, encouraging him to do the same.

Monkey see
. Monkey do. Monkey Maggie is drugging you. Sorry.

She gulped down a few big swallows, and then watched him mirror her actions. It was like she’d become the sheriff whisperer or something. With the ice knocking around in their empty glasses, she turned and began scooping pennies and hoping whatever little concoction Sera had whipped up would kick in quick.

Teague grabbed a bucket in each hand and hoisted them over the side of the truck bed with ease. He was making quick work of it, and within a half hour, the fountain was darn near empty of the coins normally hiding most of the sexy mosaic-tiled scenes.

Worry gnawed at Maggie’s inside
s. Maybe the tea wasn’t going to work. At the thought, the partially filled bucket she held dropped to the ground and spilled coins all over the place.

“Let me get those, and you rest a minute,” he said.

Maggie perched on the side of the fountain and watched him toss water-slimed coins now coated with dirt back into the bucket. “That chicken pot pie is going to taste good after all this work.”

“Yeah.
I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” Teague stood and heaved the bucket of coins into the truck.

“Abby Ruth will be here for supper.”

“Goo…good,” he said slowly, staggering against the tailgate. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his brow.

“You okay?”

He blinked and nodded, but the movement was slow, unsure.

Perfect.

“You don’t look so good.” She rushed to his side. “Here, sit down in the truck. Maybe you’re overheated.” She helped him to the passenger seat and then ran around to the driver side and blasted the AC. At least if he passed out she could move him if he was already in the truck. Thank goodness, Abby Ruth had thought of that. “You sit tight for a minute. We’re almost done anyway.”

He nodded, but he didn’t look too steady.

Maggie felt a little lightheaded herself as she walked back to the fountain and tidied up the rest of the things. How could they do this to Teague?

By the time she returned to the truck, her heart was thumping in her ears like the
rum-pum-pum
of a bass drum in the Fourth of July parade.

She sucked in a deep breath and stepped to the open passenger side door.

Teague had one leg hanging out. His eyes were shut and his head lolled over to his left shoulder. At least his chest was moving up and down. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was enjoying a deep sleep. No telling what kind of psychedelic dreams Sera’s secret syrup was inspiring inside his head.

“Teague?”

He didn’t rustle.

She snapped her fingers and called his name again, but he didn’t respond. She lifted his leg inside the truck and slammed the door.

She ran around to the driver’s seat, climbed behind the wheel and cranked the engine.

Teague lifted his head just a smidgen.

“You okay?”

He nodded.

Men.
They never would admit when things weren’t right. She drove straight to the house. Sera and Abby Ruth ran out the front door and helped her get Teague inside. They took him to Lillian’s downstairs bedroom and tipped him against the bed. Sera jumped from the floor to the mattress and spotted his clumsy sprawl back onto the frilly chenille spread. His shoes might soil the fabric, but that was just too darn bad.

Maggie had bigger things than keeping the whites bright to worry about right now.

“Are you sure he’s going to be all right?” Maggie fanned Teague’s face and looked to Sera for reassurance. “I feel bad about this.”

“He’s fine. Trust me, he’s probably having a
Fantasia
dream right about now,” Sera said with a giggle. “Besides you’re the one who’s convinced he knows about Lillian. That didn’t leave us much choice.”

Maggie sat back on her heels. “I know. He made a couple comments at the diner. He knows. I’m telling you. He knows.”

“Don’t be a worrywart, Maggie.” Abby Ruth, wearing a black button-down shirt, held Teague’s wrist and looked at her watch. “His pulse is fine. We’ve got work to do.” She waved them out of the room and to the front door. “Load up, gals. It’s time.” 

Maggie was surprised to see Abby Ruth in something besides a white shirt. Darned if she didn’t look like
a female Johnny Cash in her dark jeans and boots too.

All Maggie had been able to find was a black sweatshirt faded to grayish color and she was already regretting the choice because she was sweating like she was going through menopause again.

Maggie fanned herself as Sera whisked by in a flowing sleeveless maxi dress.
What I’d give to be wearing that right now.

Abby Ruth pointed at Sera. “You’re gonna want to cover up those arms.”

Sera pulled a delicate crocheted shrug from the huge hobo bag on her shoulder. “Better?”

Great.
No wonder I feel like a frump next to Mrs. Johnny Cash and a New Age version of Stevie Nicks.
But this was no Fleetwood Mac or country song moment.
As soon as we’re done with Nash Talley, I’m buying a decent breaking–and-entering outfit come hell, hail or high water.

Maggie sucked in her stomach and followed along.

Abby Ruth checked something behind her truck’s backseat and Maggie’s suspicion-o-meter rang like a fire bell. “What’s back there?”

“Insurance.”

Yeah, right. You’re not hiding a good hands agent behind the backseat.
Maggie elbowed her aside and peeked behind the seat. Abby Ruth’s
insurance
was long and black and looked like something a SWAT guy would have strapped to his back. “What is that thing?” Maggie screeched. “Whatever it is, you can’t take it.”

“It’s just my little ole AR-15.”

“No, no, a thousand times no.”

“Fine—” Abby Ruth pulled the gun from the truck, “—but I’m not going anywhere without
my backup.”

All the blood drained from Maggie’s head. Sure as anything that was what she’d seen Abby Ruth hiding under her mattress soon after she arrived at Summer Haven. “Where’s the other one?”

Abby Ruth stuck out her right leg. “That’s why I have my boots custom-made.”

“Even I know that a weapon takes this from breaking and entering to armed robbery.”

Abby Ruth reached down, hitched up her jeans to pull a pistol from her boot. She stuffed it in the back of her jeans. “I’m not going anywhere unprotected.”

Maggie stood her ground. “Maybe we should just stop this whole thing right now then.”

Abby Ruth’s shoulders dropped marginally. “Fine, I’ll leave the rifle here and the Glock in the truck.”

Maggie already knew this woman well enough to know that was about as much as she’d get from her.

Abby Ruth trotted back inside with the SWAT gun. Maggie climbed in the passenger seat, wondering if it was normal for women their age to go crazy like this, but before she could answer her own question, Abby Ruth was back in the truck and they were headed for Nash’s place.

Since they had Teague comfortably ensconced in Lillian’s bedroom, Abby Ruth didn’t bother to park two streets over this time. She just pulled her rig right up in front of Nash’s house, even running it up on the curb so one tire sat on his grass. She grinned like a little kid climbing on the roof wearing a Superman cape. One day, Maggie was going to be that ballsy.

They went around to the side door, and Maggie pulled out her new tools, a knife and her phone to watch that locksmith YouTube video one more time.