A Bad Penny, page 9
Penny looked up and said, “In my defense, I was not stealing from King Tut’s tomb, but returning an item which had been taken. I was caught returning it, so therefore I couldn’t be prosecuted for stealing since I was, in reality, returning something taken by someone else. As far as the Inca gold in Ecuador, and hear me out, Cussler wrote his first, but we were in the Andes at the same time.”
“I am so at a loss right now,” he said.
“Penelope is a globe-trotting librarian who gets caught up in her research. The men she loves and leaves are all part of the lore of the character to sell books,” she said. “It is not who I am in real life, but a persona. The real me has to be in Maryland by the time an eight-year-old gets out of school tomorrow so I can have a spaghetti dinner that will be mushy.”
“Fine,” he said for no reason and pushed back from the table.
“What is fine?” she asked as she typed, looking at the file, making notes, then typing some more.
“Just walk over here, use me, and get the information you want. However, if I might make a request, can you just get the information first before having hot nasty sex with me? I mean, I do have my pride. The idea of you making me your bitch, then I purr out the answers you need is messing with me, so come at me head-on.”
Penny raised her head. Her eyes were wide looking at him. Fred sat there staring back like a dejected child. She was uncertain where his train of thought was going and took a moment to address the insecurity that waved the giant red flag at her.
“Fred, please explain.”
“You came to Missouri to find something and get answers. I assume you returned to Philoneus’ house to find me gone and turned up on my doorstep. One cannot simply assume all this sexiness made you thirsty, and you traveled all the way to Connecticut for a couple of nights of hot and sticky slurping,” he said. “Whatever you came for, ask for it. If I have it or can help, I will. Just don’t turn me into a lovesick simp, doing hot, sensual, toe-curling sex acts on me...wait, what was I saying. Scratch that! I will take the toe-curling action, but I don’t want to be your simp, so ask me, damn it, and let’s get to the lovemaking!”
Penny didn’t respond to him. She continued clicking on the keys as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d spoken. Her left hand grabbed for the cell phone, and she swiped the screen and tapped a few icons to engage the personal hotspot. On the laptop, a saved document was sent to the editor, allowing Penny to power down the computer and close the top.
She stood up. Fred noticed she wore one of his button-down shirts that had been hanging in the laundry room, and underneath, she wore nothing. The lady had his attention.
“All I have you for is today, and you leave me tomorrow,” he said, swallowing hard.
“I should have been at my parent’s today for dinner tonight, but I find that I am going to be delayed,” she said, coming closer.
“Are we staying in today?”
“No, you have dinner with your folks, right?” she wanted to know, leaning down and giving him a morning smooch.
“Yeah, but my folks, you mean, hold on, I’m distracted by those lovely lips, are you saying you don’t want to try to get home to your parents for dinner. I would understand. I won’t like it, but I’d understand,” he said, kissing her back. Fred threw his head back as she rained hot, well-placed kisses up and down his neck.
“My parents, for dinner, and ruin this wonderful weekend, no thanks. Mommy will talk about Congress and the lack of funding for libraries across the U.S. or complain about librarians who are calling her to complain about the lack of funding for libraries in their states,” she said. “Let’s not talk about my father, who is simply going to complain about the state of Congress as a whole while a woman in a stiff white apron over a black housemaid’s uniform serves a meal with no taste in a Burre Blanc sauce.”
“Okay, that sounds rather unfun,” he said, smiling and slipping his hand inside her shirt, his skin appearing pale against the pecan flesh. “My parents are going to fill the evening talking about former adventures they can no longer go on, basically lapsing into a conversation about non-working body parts or bodily functions, while my mother is going to cook something amazing and serve it on everyday plates.”
“I’ll take it. And I’ll take you as well, Dr. Quartermaine,” she said, opening the shirt wide, and watching his eyes and pants enlarge at the same time.
“If you’re using me, please make it good,” he said. “When the dust settles and I have to tell my family why I haven’t showered in a week after you toss me aside, make it worth my while.”
“Only thing I’m going to be tossing is this ass,” she said, laughing loudly. “Let me show you how I’mma rock your world nerd man.”
“Rock me, rock out, rock and roll, roooo, oh shit,” he said as she took over. He had nothing more to say as he gave in to the pleasure she provided. Whoever sent the woman to pull secrets out of him was about to find out everything they ever wanted to know about whatever he’d stored in his brain; as long as Penny continued doing what she was doing, he didn’t care. “You’re going to end me, and at this point, I don’t even care.”
SHE SAT LOOKING OUT the window of the black Suburban as he drove up I-91 to Hartford. There were very few times she was afforded an opportunity to have dinner with a date’s parents. True, in her lifetime, she’d had dinner with many people of the same caliber as James and Cecily Quartermaine, but as a colleague. This would be her first time attending a meal as a...she didn’t know what she was to Fred, although in her heart, what she was feeling for the man made her want more.
“May I inquire why you drove this instead of The Buick Riveria?”
“The Buick, as I said, belonged to my grandmother, my maternal grandmother. Seeing it roll up to the house can sometimes put my mother in a weird headspace, so I don’t drive it up, and when they come down, it is in the garage,” he said. “It’s also a reason there is so little of my grandmother left in the home. My mother and Gram were very close.”
“Thoughtful.”
“I do what I can,” he said, looking over at her.
“Anything I need to know before we arrive and go inside?”
“No, we are here,” he said. “They are retirees who love a fresh set of ears. More than likely, they are going to over share, make you incredibly uncomfortable at least once, and then follow it up with an unwelcome anecdote regarding bodily functions. Yeah, old people talk.”
“Oddly, now I’m looking forward to it,” she said as the truck came to a stop.
To Penny, it looked exactly as she imagined. The home was a tri-level white Colonial with black shutters, a wraparound closed-in sunroom, and a detached two-car garage. The lawn, although it was still winter, was impeccably edged. The five stairs leading from the sidewalk to the front door held a small lawn jockey, who thankfully was a white child statuette. Fred parked on the street, sighing heavily at seeing two cars in the driveway.
“Let’s do it,” he said, breathing deeply before exiting his side to round the vehicle and open her door.
She was surprised he didn’t have a key to the home. Inside, in the foyer, the smell of freshly baked bread filled her nose, making her stomach growl. Pictures of the three Quartermaine children lined the walls and voices belonging to two of the brood came from the kitchen. Fred stepped around the corner with a dressed-down Penny. Tonight, she wore a pair of slacks, loafers, and a simple blouse. The two braids were no more and her loose hair framed her face.
“Hello, everyone,” Fred said as he entered the room.
“Thank God! I’m dying of starvation here,” a man said, sighing and looking over Fred’s shoulder. “Well, who’d a guessed that’s who you were bringing to dinner.”
“Everyone, this is my friend, Dr. Peyton van Cardin,” he said and turned to introduce each family member, starting with his brother. “The loudmouth is my brother, Andrew. That is his twin, Anna, and these two wonderful people are my parents, James and Cecily.”
“Pleased to me you all, but please call me Penny,” she responded, looking at Anna.
“Penny? I met a Penny once down in Bolivia,” Andrew stated. “She took a fancy to me, but alas, I found myself short on time. Penny Dobbs, the bad Penny herself. I know she wanted me, but yeah. If I run into her again, I shall make the time.”
Fred was about to speak, but Penny touched his arm, holding him back. Her eyes were on Andrew, who stiffened at the direct stare. He looked more at the woman, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with his flippant tone.
Penny was glad to see he’d come to the same realization she looked forward to pointing out. “No, we met in Ecuador. Your atrocious Spanish-speaking skills nearly got you killed, and I had to save your life.”
James stepped forward and asked, “What is all this then?”
She smiled at the father. “Andrew, in his attempt to communicate to the schoolgirl who’d dropped her money, incorrectly conjugated his verbs, appearing as if he was offering the young lass money. The villagers assumed he was a passport Bro and set out to throttle him and end his life.”
Cecily asked, “A passport Bro? What on Earth is that?”
Penny answered, “Middle-aged white men who travel to other countries, seeking out young women to explore their proclivities, or worse, layering in lies to the lasses with promises of a life in America.”
“Well, that is unseemly,” Cecily said. “Let me change the tone. Dinner tonight begins with an appetizer of Feta-Stuffed Marinated Olives and a Wedge Salad with Tahini Green Goddess Dressing. We shall move to a fish course of Seared Scallops with Pomegranate and Meyer Lemon. The star of tonight’s dinner will feature Butter-Basted Sous Vide Pork Chops with Fennel and Coriander with a side of au-gratin potatoes and Brussels Sprouts and Broccoli with Cranberry Agrodolce. The meal shall be finished with Candied Almond Affogato and a molten chocolate cake. Who’s hungry?”
Penny raised her hand. “Your staff must be exhausted from making such a wonderful meal.”
“What staff? I was bored, and the Brussels sprouts were on their last legs,” Cecily said. “Come, let’s dine, talk, and get to know you. Fred never brings any women home. We thought he was gay. Penny, dear, can you assure an old woman that her eldest is not batting for the home team.”
She laughed aloud and told Cecily, “Mrs. Quartermaine, I can assure you, Fred is not an outfielder.”
“Good, good. Is there any chance you are it, and I will finally get some grandchildren? I mean, my daughter is nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake left over from a past Thanksgiving White-Elephant exchange, and her twin is a rapscallion and dreamer,” Cecily commented, leading Penny to an eat-in kitchen. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m old and dying soon. Give me hope.”
“Let’s get through dinner first,” Penny said.
“So, that isn’t a no,” Cecily cheerfully stated and turned suddenly, looking for her husband. “James, she might be it. We may get grandkids before we die.”
James held up both arms in a victorious fist clench, citing, “Yay! I can teach the boy to fish. Penny, make the first one a boy.”
“I don’t think I have any say in the matter,” Penny said. “Wait, what are we talking about?”
“Our grandkids, dear,” Cecily said. “I want the first one to be a girl so I can teach her about spices and holistic eating. Truthfully, based on your hair, I think your iron might be low. Remind me before you leave to give you some lentils. Lots of iron in lentils.”
Penny took a seat at the table. Anna sat across from her, giving the stink eye, and Andrew squinted several times trying to reconcile his image of Penny Dobbs to this woman at the table. He looked at his brother, who was looking at Penny in a lovesick way, then at his twin, who was scowling at Penny. Andrew has questions.
“Hey!” he shouted as the salads were being added to the table. His father carried the scallops and popped him across the back of the head. “Wait a minute. How does Anna know Penny Dobbs? Better yet, how does Fred know you, and he’s looking at you like...hold on. Was Anna at his house when you arrived? Oh wow, this is getting interesting.”
The statement caught James’ attention, “Penny, how did you two meet if I might ask?”
He asked the question, and immediately bowed his head and went into a three-minute prayer of thankfulness. Stopping. Adding a scallop to his plate, then looked at her for an answer.
“Oh, sorry. I am researching my next novel. I heard about the passing of Philoneus Mason and went by his home to inquire about an estate sale since the man had no children,” Penny said.
“Philoneus! That old knob gobbler!” James said, nearly spitting out his food. “Did you know that peddler of horseshit?”
Penny laughed, “I have heard him referred to as many things, but none of what you just said. I take it, Dr. Quartermain, that you had an opportunity to meet with Philoneus?”
“Crack him in the head is more like it,” James said. “Philoneus wasn’t a collector. He was a broker, the middleman who held onto things for people who wanted to sell high-dollar items or have the items validated for authenticity. Somehow, the pencil jerker found a way to make friends with members of The Society through that knock-kneed lover of his, Sellers, another sideways bus rider.”
Fred, who was listening carefully, asked, “Why would Sellers introduce him to members of The Society?”
“Philoneus created a special ink,” James said. “The ink is only used by the government, and in Philoneus’ case, to make maps. It is patented, and employed by the group called the Technicians, you know one of those shadow covert gub’ment groups of people with code names.”
“I met one of those,” Penny chimed in. “Codename Yield. Met him down in Mexico when he was retrieving a golden orb that belonged to one of the members of The Society. A dark-spirited man with a nasty scar over his left eye.”
“Those folks are all over the U.S. Each state has one,” Cecily said. “I met the one for Connecticut; he was named after the state tree, Charter Oak. Scared some Jesus into my heart.”
James pulled the conversation back, “Anyhoo. This ink that Philoneus created, he used to make and mark maps. Every map he was given to hold had a five-step process. Hold it up to the light, which directs you to a page number in a book, the book directs you to another book, and that leads you to an object, in turn, leading you to a key. The key can open several items: a safe, a lock, or even a drawer. However, there is a powder. Tossing the powder over the paper will tell you what the map is for since none of them are properly marked.”
Andrew asked, “Then how do you know what the map goes to?”
“The key is in the books,” James said. “The location of the key or the vessel which holds the key is the time stamp or anecdotal stamp of what decade the map came from; for example, a McCoy vase could have been made when McCoy started the company in 1848, which is the start of the California Gold Rush.”
“The map leads to gold, Daddy?” Anna inquired, her eyes darting back to Penny.
“Yes, but here’s the thing,” James said, watching his daughter bring the pork chops to the dinner table.
Anna placed one on his plate, then Fred’s, followed by Andrew’s, her mother’s, Penny’s, and finally hers. Penny paid attention with her eyes to the details she was being given. She was also paying attention to the detail she was being fed with her ears.
“The thing is, Philoneus held several maps. One, which belonged to that snake Desirio Rentería, from Mexico. That lot is a nasty bunch. His cousin is one of those cartel guys with the henchmen with snake tattoos on their hands. Another one of the maps leads to the lost gold Jesse James stole from the Confederacy. He and Sellers were onto something, but no one could figure out what. The clues are in the house,” James said. “If you can follow all the clues in the house, you can find the gold.”
Fred heard it all, but his eyes were on Penny. She didn’t need to get any information from him. All she needed was an invite to dinner to pull it directly from the walking encyclopedia himself. It pissed him off that she didn’t even have to ask his father any questions. James freely gave her everything she needed to figure out what powder was needed to get the answers from the map she had and enough peripheral knowledge to appease whoever had hired her.
Suddenly, he felt sick.
Chapter 10- Terrible
The ride to New Haven remained quiet with a heaviness to the air Penny didn’t understand. Over the years she’d learned, based on the behavior of men, that they needed time to process complex emotions. If she couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong or whom she transgressed, there was in fact an issue, hopefully by the time they reached his home, he would discuss the matter at hand. She was wrong.
A heavy silence continued as she prepared for bed, coming to the bedroom to find him fast asleep. Had the hour not been so late, she would have taken her bag and found a hotel close by, but in fairness, the benefit of the doubt was needed for them both to clear the air. In the morning, he’d be willing to talk about the problem.
Penny was wrong.
In the morning, coming down for coffee along with her suitcase, she greeted Fred, who sat sulking like a child. Coffee was ready, but nothing more, and she had no appetite. Sighing heavily, she asked, “Did I say something wrong to your family or to you?”
“No, I’m pissed,” he said.
“At what?”
“You! Here I was thinking you came all of this way to seduce and get answers out of me when all along, you wanted to be taken to the source,” he said.
“Fred, what are you talking about? What source?”
“The Professor! My father! He is a Professor in the Society of the Golden Orb,” Fred said. “I asked you not to make me into your simp, and here I am, feeling all proud to take you to meet my parents, and you were using me. Using me to get to him!”
Penny’s mouth dropped open. She heard the words and saw his visible anger. However, none of it made sense.
“You decided to take me to your parents. I didn’t ask,” she said. “I didn’t ask him for any information; he voluntarily began to share everything in his head he knew about Philoneus without me asking. How is that using you? I thought it was a lovely dinner.”
