“We have people arriving in less than two hours.” I glanced at my iWatch. “One hour and forty-seven minutes to be exact.”
“I know. We’re going to have to cancel. There’s no way we can have an open house. Look at this place.”
I did. I scanned the entire open floor plan, at least what I could see from the front entrance, which was a good portion of the first floor. “Oh no. The Payton print. It’s ruined.” Whoever had vandalized Carter’s home had taken a knife to the canvas painting and attacked it, and in a fit of rage, from the looks of it. Long, jagged slits cut through Payton’s shoulder, his helmet, his signature number 34 uniform, and effectively, his and Carter’s memory. My heart sank. “Who would do this?”
The rest of the main floor suffered the same fate. Spray painted along the walls was foul language, words no kind person should ever use, let alone write, words one only said in their head, and then prayed for forgiveness because they were all kinds of ugly. The couch, a solid cream color trimmed with silver nails along the base and arms, and gray and cream pillows had been knifed to shreds, too. The stuffing scattered in piles along the floor surrounding it.
The wood coffee table in front of the destroyed couch was smashed to bits, and the rug beneath it ripped to pieces. “Oh no.” I stared at the dark hardwood floor. “Oh my gosh. The floor. Look at it.” Knife marks, long, jagged, knife marks were deeply imbedded into the wood, some of them spelling curse words. “The floor’s going to have to be replaced. This is going to take weeks, months to repair.” I bowed my head into my hands and cried. “This is terrible. I’ve failed Carter and his sister.”
“Honey, where’s your phone? We need to start calling these agents. We have to let them know what’s going on. We have to cancel the open house.”
“The bids, Belle. The bids. They’re going to pull the bids. The place isn’t going to sell now, and the scholarship deal?” I blew out a breath. “The school can kiss that goodbye.” I stepped back onto the front porch. Belle followed. “I can’t believe someone would do this.”
We sat on the steps and waited no more than two minutes for Dylan and Matthew to show up with a team of three other deputies.
They arrived and scanned the area. “Looks like another hit,” Matthew said.
“What do you mean another hit?” I asked.
“Three retail shops called in burglaries. We’ve got teams on each of them now.”
“In the development?” Belle asked.
Matthew nodded. “We’ll check this out and compare notes. Can you tell me what you saw when you arrived?”
Belle nodded. “The door was pried open, and the lock looked broken. I knew something was up, obviously, so I called you right away.” She dragged the palms of her hands down the sides of her blazer and onto her hips, rubbing the smooth fabric of her pants as she spoke. “But I couldn’t help it. I had to look inside. I mean, the door was basically opened, and I used my elbow to push it, so I didn’t touch it or anything inside.”
Matthew nodded as he took notes. “You’re sure you didn’t touch anything?”
Belle nodded. “Didn’t even step off the entry carpet. Didn’t have to, really. You can get a pretty good view from there. It’s bad. They trashed the place.”
He sighed. “Let me get in there and take a look. Our guys will do their thing. If whoever did this left any evidence, we’ll get it.”
She nodded.
“Lily?” Matthew squatted down to my level. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Sure doesn’t feel that way right now.”
Belle made a few calls, but it was too late to stop most of the agents from showing up and seeing the ruined home. She left messages explaining the situation, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. The damage was done, both to the townhome and to our business.
Two agents showed up early, and I couldn’t personally fault them because that gave them an edge. It didn’t however, give us much chance to create a plan of attack, a way to diffuse the situation, and it left us with our jaws hanging to the floor like the agents when they walked up to the front door and peeked inside.
“Miss Sprayberry, how could you let something like this happen?” One of the agents asked.
“Were the doors left unlocked? Small towns aren’t as safe as they used to be. Perhaps I should mention that to my buyers. Where is law enforcement? I’d like to get some statistics,” another one said.
“Ma’am, our town is very safe, and those statistics, as you know, are available through the county. The sheriff is inside doing his job, and I don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed,” I said.
As with everything else in town, news traveled fast, and the locals showed up to rubberneck in the parking lot. So many came that Matthew had to send two deputies out to direct traffic. When he did, an agent hit him hard with the questions.
Her eyes wandered up and down Matthew in his uniform. I glanced at Belle and watched her jaw tighten.
“Excuse me, are you the sheriff?”
“I’m a deputy, ma’am.” Matthew said.
“Well, I guess you’ll do.” My name is Tiffany Sawbucket, and I’m a realtor from Atlanta, and I’d like to get some information on the crime here in Bramblett County.” She waved her hand toward the townhome. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”
Belle whispered in my ear. “Sawbucket?”
I coughed and whispered back. “Must be from the sticks.” I didn’t feel an ounce bad about saying it, either.
Belle laughed.
Tiffany Sawbucket flung her silky black hair behind her shoulder and lifted her nose up when she caught us whispering. I watched my reputation slide to the ground and slither away.
Even it didn’t want to be attached to me.
“Ma’am, I can assure you Bramblett is a safe place to live,” Matthew said.
“Oh, honey, I’m sure it is, but I’d like to know specifics. Of course I’ve done my due diligence and looked online like the agent here suggested. She angled her body just a touch my direction, but she didn’t actually make eye contact, moving a step closer to Matthew instead. “It’s just that a man such as yourself, a deputy, well, I assumed you’d be able to provide more personalized, detailed information.”
I gripped Belle’s arm and squeezed as her body tensed. “Breathe,” I whispered. “It’s Matthew. Don’t worry.”
She relaxed.
Matthew spread his legs slightly apart, cupped his hands together behind his back and spoke with an authoritative tone. “Ms. Sawbucket, while I appreciate your interest in our county, I can assure you there is no need to worry about the crime here. We have an experienced, and devoted sheriff with a loyal staff. Your clients will be completely safe here, and I’m sure, once Ms. Sprayberry and Ms. Pyott here have this unit attended to, they’ll be thrilled with the results.”
Belle waved her hand in front of her face. “Oh my.”
Matthew caught her doing it and winked.
“Well, thank you deputy—what was your name?”
“Deputy Riley, ma’am.”
In two steps Belle and I had planted ourselves on each side of Matthew.
The agent I knew Belle would rather see hung out to pasture and never allowed in town again gave Matthew the once over again and slowly smiled when she reached his eyes. She held out the top of her hand, letting it dangle in the air all limp. “Well, Deputy Riley, it’s been my pleasure.”
Matthew nodded, but he didn’t touch her hand. Probably because he knew his hand would end up broken if Belle had anything to say about it. “Ma’am.”
I worked hard to deflect the situation. “Ms. Sawbucket, this is a rare event in Bramblett, and I must apologize for not being able to alert you of the unfortunate circumstances prior to your arrival, but since the unit isn’t currently lived in, we’d prepped it for the event yesterday, and just arrived a short time before you. As you know, the open house isn’t scheduled for another hour.”
“Oh sugar, of course I know that, but nobody
follows those silly little rules. Agents know the listing agent will be there early, so of course the good ones like me arrive early, too. It gives us an edge.” She eyed me up and down also, but not at all with the pleasure she’d showed Matthew. “Of course, that probably doesn’t happen up here now, does it?”
I forced a big, fake smile showing my pearly whites. “I understand how these things work.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the door. “Now, I’m sure you can understand we’ve got a lot to take care of here. We’ll be in touch once the unit is repaired and available again.”
“Oh, dear. Well, that won’t be necessary. There are some lovely homes available in Blue Ridge, and my client had expressed an interest in those, too. We’ll just purchase one of those. He has the cash available now, and would like to make his purchase this week.”
“I understand.”
Tiffany Sawbucket lectured me for another minute or so, though it felt like hours, and then said her goodbye as she pushed through the crowd of onlookers. I noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd, ones I knew would be front and center.
Emma Crimmins, Fannie Noble and Magnolia Cleveland all hung out in the front of the crowd, coy little smiles draped across their faces. When they noticed me staring at them, they perked up and smiled even bigger.
My gut told me they were involved in what happened. Carter Trammell got the shaft practically from the day he moved to Bramblett County, and even after dying, he couldn’t catch a break. But I didn’t think the break-in was about Carter. Whoever did it was somehow responsible for the other break-ins, too. They had to be. It was about Bramblett County and me.
Magnolia walked her cocky little self right up to me. “Hey there, Lily Sprayberry. Looks like something awful’s happened in your little listing here. Goodness, I just hate that for you.” Her tone bled sewage water it was so condescending.
“I bet you do. You wouldn’t know anything about it now, would you?”
She covered her mouth and gasped. “Me? Oh, heavens, no. Why on earth would you ask that?”
“That’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”
She started to speak, but I just shoved my hand up in front of her face and then flipped around and walked away, my heart beating like crazy.
Belle met me at the front of the townhome. “Honey, your face is so red you look like you’re about to bust an artery. What in the world did Magnolia Cleveland say to you?”
“Nothing worth repeating.” I glanced inside at the damage once more. “We’ve got to get this place fixed.”
“Have you called Ryann?”
“Oh Lord. How could I not do that?” I pulled my phone from my purse and searched my previous calls for her number. When I filled her in, she was devastated, but assured me she’d have the insurance company on it in a jiffy. I gave her my recommendation for the repairs, and a company I knew was approved by the carrier and had done good work.
Matthew suggested we leave and promised he or Dylan would follow up, so Belle and I headed to the office, chatting on the phone as we drove.
“Four properties were hit in the same place? Sounds fishy to me,” she said.
“Definitely planned.”
She poked fun at me. “It doesn’t take a professional crime TV watcher to see that.”
I laughed in spite of the situation. “It’s got to have something to do with the bidding war, you know? The whole ‘keep Bramblett County small’ thing.”
“Of course it does. Carter’s was the only private property out of the four break-ins? If that’s not a statement, I don’t know what is.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” I huffed, making my disgust even more obvious than it already was. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Matthew and Dylan are on it, so that’s good. We need to hold off on the open house though, at least until we figure out what’s going on.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I think you’re right. I also think these people are pretty obvious, don’t you?”
“I have a hunch.”
“Let me guess. Your hunch includes Magnolia, Emma and Fannie.”
“I can’t see them actually doing the crimes though, so maybe they paid someone?”
“I don’t know. They are too high society-like to do the dirty work themselves, but how would they go about getting someone to do it for them? Put an ad on social media?”
“Magnolia does have that shady husband of hers, so maybe he got someone to do it? I’m pretty sure he’s part of the mafia anyway. His name sounds like it.”
I laughed because she was right. Magnolia’s husband did have a dubious air to him, and his name, Dominic Scratachelli sounded all kinds of Italian mafia. To the best of my knowledge though, he’d not been in trouble in Bramblett.
We arrived back at the office and got to work. Ryann had emailed the claim and asked me to manage the repair since she was so far away. I followed up with the company I’d recommended, scheduled for them to get there first thing the next day, and let Dylan, Matthew, Ryann, and Belle know.
“Well, at least that’s done for now,” I said.
“I’m sorry this happened.”
“Me, too.”
“That commission would have been nice.”
I tapped my pencil on my desk. “It still will be. I just hope the scholarship option will be as high if we don’t sell for what we could have today.”
“People will forget. The concerns will fade once it’s back on the market.”
“I doubt that. This isn’t going away, Belle.”
“The sheriff’s office is on it.”
I tapped my pencil again. “I know.”
Belle threw a pen at me, but she missed actually making physical contact.
“Nice try.”
“I know what you’re doing. I know that look.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Right.”
I smiled. “Well, it’s not like anyone was murdered, but still. You can’t expect me to just leave it alone.”
“You mean leave it to law enforcement like a normal person would?”
“Technically, law enforcement is our significant others, so wouldn’t my looking into it be supporting their efforts?”
“Bless you’re heart. You’re clueless.”
“I prefer to think of it as motivated.”
She pushed herself away from her desk and stood. “On that note, I need a coffee. You want something?’
I shook my head. “I’m good, but thanks.”
As Belle headed out, Rufus Fulton from the Bramblett County Gazette held the door for her. “You leaving? I was hoping to interview you two about the break-in this morning.”
She flashed me a quick glance and smiled at Rufus. “Lily’s got it covered.” She waved goodbye to both of us and left.
Rufus pulled his notepad from his blue and white plaid sport coat pocket, removed the pen from behind his ear, and stood in front of my desk. “So, what do you have to say?”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask me more detailed questions than that?”
He rubbed his scruffy chin. “Well, sure, but I figured you’d have something to say, and that I’d give you the chance to say it.”
“That’s a cop out, and you know it.”
He stared at me and waited, but I didn’t budge. I stood my ground, going through some paperwork on my desk as if he wasn’t there, until he finally gave in.
“Oh, you’re as tough as your momma, aren’t you?”
“I consider that a compliment.”
He grumbled, but it was a sweet, albeit surrendering grumble. “Well, do you think this had something to do with the meeting yesterday?”
“Do you?”
“Three stores were also burglarized at the development.”
“Exactly, Rufus. Three stores and only one townhome, and it happens to be the exact one in the middle of a bidding war.”
He chewed on the tip of his pen cap. “Sheriff
said the place was locked up, so they’d a had to break in, right?”
I nodded. “They pried the lock open somehow.”
“Different than the stores. Those were just smashed windows, and one of them they didn’t steal nothing from.”
“You’re the investigative reporter. Tell me what you think.”
“I think someone’s looking to stop you from selling that townhouse.”
I made the shape of my thumb and finger into a gun and pointed it at him. “Bingo.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what happened? Start from the beginning, and don’t leave a thing out.”
I gave him the sordid details of the events that had transpired, from the ugliness at the meeting, to the ultimate destruction of the inside of Carter Trammell’s townhome.
He nodded as I spoke, but took copious amounts of notes and didn’t look up once.
“And that’s about it. Now we just sit and wait as the repairs are done and then I’ll put it up again, and hopefully, nothing bad will happen.”
He glanced up then, a look of confusion spread across his face, highlighting his five-o’clock shadow, even though it wasn’t close to five-o’clock yet. “You mean you’re still going to list the property?”
“Of course. What else would I do?” I leaned forward. “Rufus, there is a lot riding on the sale of this listing. The scholarship would have a positive impact on the community, and at least one, if not more, lacrosse students’ futures, depending on the sale price.”
“Tell me more about that.”
“The scholarship, or scholarships if the unit sells well, will help students like Bobby Yancy Jr., students who can’t afford to pay for college. If the townhome goes into another bidding war, which of course, I’d love, there’s no telling how many students could get scholarships. The executor of the will, Carter Trammell’s sister, doesn’t care about the money. She wants to do right by Carter’s name.” I considered what I planned to say next, carefully, but went ahead and said it. “Even though most of this town treated him like garbage when he was alive.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“Darn straight you can.” I exhaled, giving myself a moment to keep the anger inside from rising to explosive levels. “You can also quote me on this. No matter what happens, no matter who tries to stop me, or tries to stop the sale of the townhome, it’s going to sell, and for a substantially higher price than we originally expected. This town is growing, thriving, and stopping one unit, the only one for sale in the development at the moment, from selling isn’t going to stop progress in Bramblett.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m done. You can stop quoting me now.”
Bidding War Break-In Page 5
