IN FOR A PENNY (The Granny Series) by Nancy Naigle, Kelsey Browning Page A

processed foods.”
    “But it’s bran cereal.” Didn’t Sera know a peace offering—or a bribe—when she saw one?
    “Have you really looked at those raisins? They’re coated with sugar.”
    No, she hadn’t because she wasn’t much of a fruit eater. “Suit yourself.”
    “I have a nice quinoa I put in the cold box last night. I glaze it with a little local honey and some flaxseed. Would you like some?”
    Here it was, her chance to turn over a new leaf. Maybe this would be the path to her own remodel, and Lord, if she could look good enough to go skinny-dipping in the creek, it would be worth it. “Sure.”
    Sera served up two bamboo bowls of a lump of brownish grain with a stingy amount of honey and sprinkled on top what looked like fleas.
    Maggie took a cautious bite. Not horrible. Not an ice cream sundae, but she could swallow it.
    “I have a favor to ask,” Maggie said between bites. “Think you’d be up to helping me sort through a few bags of scratch-off lottery tickets?”
    “Like grocery bags?”
    “Think a little bigger.” A lot bigger.
    “No problem.”
    When they headed up toward the house fifteen minutes later, Lil was still nowhere to be found. Maggie’s chest tightened and her breath shallowed as she rushed to the detached garage and threw open the side door. The Torpedo was gone. Oh, Lord have mercy, what if Lil hadn’t come home at all yesterday?
    Maggie patted the pockets of her carpenter pants looking for that fancy little phone her son had bought her for Mother’s Day. Heck if she knew how to use half the functions. The thing could probably build a house by itself if she just knew which buttons to use. She punched the one programmed to call Lil’s phone, held it to her ear and weaved through the house. She knocked on Lil’s bedroom door, but didn’t wait for an answer when she heard “ Für Elise” playing from the other side.
    Lil’s bed was made, the corners precise and the pillows fluffed. Maggie’s insides contracted even more. Something had happened to her in the city. That was the only explanation. And Lillian couldn’t even call for help because her cell phone was sitting on her nightstand.
    As Maggie reached for the other phone to call the sheriff, she noticed a piece of Lil’s monogrammed stationary propped directly in the center of a pillow.
     
    Dearest Margaret,
     
    Lil’s use of my given name is never good news.
     
    First, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I wanted to tell you. I tried, but then time got away from me. Now it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, my dearest friend.
     
    She’s dying. Lil has cancer and has checked herself into hospice care . Maggie held her hand to her heart and drew in a breath.
     
    I’ve done something I simply can’t undo and you’re the only person in this world I trust to keep my secret and take care of my home. If I were a stronger woman, I would have told you weeks ago.
     
    I left you a binder in my desk drawer, along with a few hundred dollars. I know it’s not enough to maintain Summer Haven fully, but only take care of what absolutely cannot be avoided. The taxes are paid up, and so is the insurance, and I’ve left enough money in the estate account to cover the bare essentials, but whatever you do, you are not to use any of your own money to maintain the estate. In its current condition, Summer Haven should pass Angelina’s trumped-up inspection.
     
    Maggie wasn’t as confident of Summer Haven’s condition as Lillian. She’d seen the water damage and structural concerns that maybe the average onlooker wouldn’t notice. Hopefully, Angelina and her posse wouldn’t be well-versed enough to notice either. She scanned the note again.
    Where in the world is Lil’s money? The Summer family came from money so old, rumor was Abraham had opened the family’s first checking account. Had Harlan squandered all the Summer family money?
     
    I know you’ll be busy with the July Fourth celebration for the next few