The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) by Judy Nickles

them out of their frames to see if there was information on the back. But an archivist will know how to authenticate everything.”
    “I don’t know if I want anything that valuable in the house,” Brad said. “But we’ll see what happens.” Loud voices from the bar stopped the conversation cold. “Tell me those aren’t bikers I see at the bar.”
    “Mike can handle them,” Harry said.
    Penelope turned toward the bar where four leather-clad men, dripping with chains, hunched over bottles of beer. She frowned as she noticed something familiar about the one on the end. Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, the biker revolved on his stool and grinned at her. She didn’t have to look twice to know it was Tiny.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    The jukebox belted out its usual complement of classic country western songs, but there were a few new ones, too. Keeping her eyes away from the bar, Penelope watched Bradley and Rosabel start the dancing. Harry, remarkably light on his feet despite his port, moved Mary Lynn around the room with a touching ease and grace. Even Jake took a couple of turns with Millie and Rosabel after Penelope turned him down.
    I’ve been alone a long time. Why is it getting to me tonight all of a sudden? This is nothing new, being the fifth wheel, the odd man out. Is it because Sam’s over there watching my every move?
    Just after ten, Mike held a match to the kindling tucked into the logs filling the fireplace cavity. The paper and twigs flared, then sputtered and went out. The same thing happened again before the logs finally caught. “Third time’s the charm,” someone called out.
    Coming back from checking out the remodeled ladies room, Penelope noticed the bikers were gone and an extra person now sat in the chair next to Chuck Runyon. The woman’s long black hair, drawn away with jeweled ruby clips from a face of indeterminate age, tumbled down her back, blending with a plain black jersey dress melded to her body.  If she wore makeup at all, it was expertly and subtly done so as not to be noticeable. A pair of large ruby and gold hoops, similar to the hair clips, were her only other accessories. Millie, standing behind the newcomer, motioned to Penelope.
    “This is a friend from Fayetteville, Marlo Howard. Marlo, this is Penelope Pembroke, the local B&B owner, mover and shaker, and also mother of the handsome police detective now dancing with his lady love.”
    Penelope offered her hand. “Hello, Marlo.” She thought the woman’s hand felt limp and unenthusiastic.
    “ Marlo came to the grand opening as a favor, but she’s really here to look for an old home where she can open an antique store.”
    “More of an art gallery with antiques on the side.” Marlo’s husky voice meshed with the rest of her appearance.
    “Anyway, I told her if she found an old house, Mike and I had first dibs on it.”
    Penelope settled into her chair again. “I see.”
    “I told her they come available from time to time,” Mary Lynn said. “I told her to go see Ben Epperson after the holidays.”
    “Are you staying with the Dancers?” Penelope asked.
    “I’ll spend tonight with Mike and Millie and drive back tomorrow.”
    “I thought you were from Fayetteville.”
    Marlo moved her head in an almost imperceptible negative. “I lived there for a while, but I’ve been in Little Rock for two years.”
    “She works for an art gallery,” Millie said. “But now she wants to get out on her own.”
    “And I guess Little Rock has more than enough galleries and antique malls.”
    Marlo’s pale pink lips curved in what might have been a smile or maybe a look of condescension. “Yes, it does. But Amaryllis is a good location. I’ve studied your tourist business.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes, and I was impressed enough to come look it over.”
    Dislike stirred in Penelope. “Well, we like it,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as catty as she felt.
    “Always room for more business,” Harry said, back in