Bidding War Break-In

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  It felt like forever.

  I pressed the button on the electronic door bell. While I waited for someone to answer, I scanned the front porch for cameras. In the top right corner of the door and overhang I noticed one hidden inside a hanging vine’s pot. I waved at it. I couldn’t help myself.

  Dominic answered the door. “What do you want?”

  “Nice to see you, too Mr. Scratachelli. I’m actually here for your wife. I’ve joined the Women of Society club, and I’m required to interview members as part of my initiation. Trust me, I’m not excited about this. Your wife and the members of that club and I aren’t the best of friends, but the club is good for business. So, is Magnolia available?” It was a stretch. I didn’t want him to know I had any positive connection to Magnolia’s friends, just in case he thought I did.

  He kept the front door only slightly opened as a barrier between us. “She drove to Alabama to see a cousin. Won’t be back until next week.”

  I kept my tone casual and let my Southern accent out a touch more than normal. “Bless her heart, that woman’s needed a vacation, I’m sure. I know your wife and I are sworn enemies and all, but I can appreciate what’s she done for our little group. When I looked through all of the past events for the club and saw all of her effort, well, I can imagine she needed the break.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I’ve got her cell number on my phone now, so I’ll just give her a call. Might be better that way anyway, don’t you think?”

  “Whatever.” He tried to close the door, but I used the trick I’d learned on TV and stuck my foot in the way.

  “Oh, Mr. Scratachelli, one more thing. When did Magnolia leave? She was supposed to be at a meeting this morning, but didn’t show.”

  “Because she left after dinner last night.”

  “Oh, I see.” I pulled my foot out and he slammed the door in my face.

  Chapter 9

  “You did what? That’s crazy talk right there.”

  Henrietta and Bonnie were camped outside my house waiting for me to get home. They’d sat in my porch rocking chairs, just rocking away like it wasn’t anyone’s business. A half-filled liter of Coke stuck out of a cooler full of ice in front of Henrietta. Each of them had a red Solo cup in their hands, and a bag of potato chips sat on the small iron table between them. Henrietta had been in the throes of lecturing Bonnie on a decision she’d made. I walked up in the middle of it.

  “What are you two bickering about now?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Henrietta said.

  “It’s okay if I don’t hear it then. Really.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. All the girls are doing it. I read it on the SnapChat. It’s a news station, you know, and now I don’t have to look at those ugly mugs on the news no more,” Bonnie said.

  I raised an eyebrow as I unlocked my door and Bo came charging out. He gave me a second of acknowledgement and then rushed over to the bag of chips for a sniff. Bonnie yanked the bag and stuffed it between her legs.

  “The SnapChat ain’t no news station. It’s one of them appliance thingies you get on that phone of yours. Don’t even know why you got yourself a phone like that anyway. You’re blind as a bat and can’t see half the stuff on it,” Henrietta said.

  “It’s entertainment news, and it’s got some educational stuff on it, too. Look.” She did a fine job of navigating her new iPhone. “See?” She’d opened the app and showed us a screen full of trashy wannabe news. “My grandson taught me how to use my fingers to make the screen move. It’s the greatest thing since they put the commode indoors.”

  I laughed and then gave her a quick tutorial on application verses appliance.

  Henrietta shook her head. “The woman is nuttier than a jar of peanut butter.” She tapped Bonnie on the knee. “Tell her what you want. Go ahead.”

  I really didn’t want to know, but Bonnie told me anyway.

  “I’m getting me one of those Brazil waxes. Just got to find me a salon that does them nearby. Figured maybe they got one in that fancy nail and hair place on the old Redbecker property.”

  My mouth fell open. “You mean a Brazilian wax? You’re kidding right?”

  “Nope,” Henrietta said.

  “Bonnie, please. Just don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re too old,” Henrietta said. “You don’t need to be showing nobody your religion like that. Lord knows what’ll happen to them…them hair-down-there-dressers. You might give’m a heart attack.”

  I choked back a laugh. “Okay, that’s a little too much information right there. I’ll tell you what, you tell your grandson what it is you want to do and how you found out about it. I’ll bet you ten bucks he deletes the app from your phone.”

  “What’s that mean?” Bonnie asked.

  I shook my head. “Just ask Nicholas. He’ll take care of you.” I plucked a potato chip from her grip. “So, why are you two here?”

  “Came to see you,” Henrietta said.

  I sat in the rocker on Henrietta’s other side. Bo licked the bottom of my shoe. “Bo, ew. No. Came to see me about what? Oh, and what’s going on with Old Man Goodson?”

  Henrietta planted her feet on the ground and refilled her red Solo cup. “Old Man Goodson.” She flung her hand and almost hit Bonnie in the face. “That poor man. That wife of his got him all out of sorts, his brain’s rattling around like a BB in a boxcar.” She stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth. When she spoke again, pieces blew out with her words, but she didn’t care. “We told him he’s got to choose, and when he told her he wasn’t sure which way to go, she sent him straight back to the basement.”

  “And right back to us,” Bonnie said.

  I didn’t tell them they’d basically won by default.

  “Anyway, we got some information for you,” Bonnie said.

  “About?”

  “That Dominic Scratchmybelly man,” Henrietta said.

  I held back my laugh. “Scratachelli, and what do you mean you’ve got information?”

  “We were at—”

  “At bingo—”

  They both spoke at the same time, and Bonnie held her hand up to Henrietta’s face. “It’s my grandson, so I get to tell the story, now hush.”

  Henrietta placed her drink on the table, gripped the handles of the rocker, and rocked with intent. From the look on her face, I knew she was holding back her urge to give Bonnie a what for.

  “We were at bingo at the community center last night, and we overheard someone talking. We weren’t snooping, they were just close and we could hear what they was saying, you know, ‘cause they were practically yelling ‘cause of the bingo game and all.”

  Henrietta laughed. “She’s got that part wrong. We were snooping and—”

  Bonnie snarled at our friend. “Let me tell it, woman.”

  Henrietta rocked some more.

  “And we heard Mabel Cleveland talking.”

  “Mabel Cleveland? Magnolia’s grandmother? Isn’t she dead?”

  They both laughed.

  “Heavens no. She moved to one of those assisted living places in Cumming. Said it’s better than she thought it would be, too. I might take a look at the place when I’m old.”

  “But she doesn’t like the food. Too many potatoes and not enough okra,” Henrietta said.

  I’d honestly thought she’d passed away. She had to be about the same age as Bonnie and Henrietta. I wasn’t sure how old they were, but I suspected it was close to eighty. “Wait, if she’s in Cumming, how did she get to bingo here? She didn’t drive, did she?” The thought of an older person navigating the dark hilly roads from Forsyth County worried me.

  “Are you kidding me? Mabel stopped driving twenty years ago. Got her license taken when she hit a cow on 369,” Henrietta said.

  They both busted out laughing, and Bonnie finally said, “She hit the daggum thing going seventy miles an hour. Sent it flying right off the road ‘least f
ifty feet from what I heard. Wasn’t nothing left of the poor thing by the time she was through with it.”

  “You should a seen her truck. Looked like she’d done smashed right into a wall of red paint. She took one of them fancy car things, you know. The goober one?” Henrietta said.

  “Uber?”

  “I guess. Don’t know nothing ‘bout that kind of thing. Woman could a just taken a taxi, or one of them Dial-A-Ride vans I see driving past my house every morning.”

  I never knew where conversations with Henrietta and Bonnie would lead. “So, what did you hear her say?”

  Bonnie responded. “Just that that good for nothing son in law of hers was planning on buying the place on the Redbecker property and he’s planning on forcing Odell Luna outta his place next to it to make it bigger. Mabel thinks he’s planning on buying up a lot of the properties in town so he can make Bramblett one of them big cities like Buckhead.”

  Odell Luna was a cranky old man that owned the property next to my deceased client’s. He’d once said he’d never sell, then he said he would, and frankly, I had no idea what he’d do if Dominic Scratachelli gave him an offer. “Did she say how much he was going to offer Odell?”

  Henrietta shook her head.

  “Don’t think so,” Bonnie said.

  “I had me my extra ears in, and I turned ‘em up for force, but then all I heard was Old Man Goodson passing gas. I turned them down again because I don’t need to be hearing none of that,” Henrietta said.

  “God bless him, he’s got enough hot air to fill one of them hot air balloons we see flying around sometimes.”

  I stifled my laugh. “Did she say anything about her granddaughter?”

  “Don’t think so,” Bonnie said. “But I don’t know why she’s fussin’ about you selling that house and keeping Bramblett from growing if her husband is planning on buying up the land. Don’t make a lick of sense now, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I didn’t want them involved with Dominic and the possibility that he’d done something to his wife. I knew they’d want to help, but I had no intentions of putting them in danger. “Listen, I appreciate you filling me in on this, but Dominic Scratachelli isn’t a nice man, so don’t you two go messing with him, you hear?”

  Bonnie nodded, but Henrietta frowned. “He don’t worry me none,” she said.

  “Promise me.”

  They both groaned, but they promised.

  “Now, I’ve got to get this lug of a mutt inside and fed. He’s about ready to rip that bag of chips right out of your hand, Bonnie.”

  She held it closer to her chest as we all got up. It took them a bit longer to do that than me.

  “Bootin’ us right off the porch.” Bonnie stuffed the bag of chips under her arm, held my hands and then gave me a hug. “Don’t you go messing with that man either, Lilybit.”

  Henrietta hugged me, too. “We don’t want to lose you.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “Well, if you need us, I got me my gun, and I know how to use it,” Bonnie said.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary, but thank you.” I walked them to their car and opened their doors. “You two behave, okay?”

  I jogged back to my porch with Bo at my heels. I thought about what Mabel Cleveland had said. If Mabel knew what Dominic was doing, she’d have to have heard it from Magnolia, which meant they’d talked, so maybe Mabel would be worried if she hadn’t heard from her granddaughter in a while?

  I thought about Bonnie’s grandson Nicholas. He wasn’t the kind of kid that played sports. He was more of a computer nerd, and I wondered if he could help me get more information on Dominic and his work. Information I couldn’t get myself.

  Since I’d had dealings with Nicholas before, I had his cell number in my contacts, and I sent him a text. “It’s Lily Sprayberry. Can you call me when you have a moment, please?”

  I prepared Bo’s food and as I set it on the floor for him, my cell phone rang.

  “Miss Lily, it’s Nicholas, Bonnie’s grandson.” The sounds of shooting and screaming echoed in the background. It must have been a video game.

  “Hi Nicholas, I was wondering if you could help me with some computer things, research stuff? I can pay you for your time.”

  “Crap. I got him,” he yelled into the phone. “Oh, sorry, I’m playing a game.”

  “I figured.”

  “What kind of computer stuff?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure. Do you think you could come by sometime soon?”

  He hollered more about his game and then said, “Crap, I’m hit,” to someone else. When the game silenced, I knew I had his attention.

  “Uh, sure. I can come now if that works?”

  “That would be great.”

  I played fetch with Bo in the back yard until he showed. He lugged a large black rolling case behind him and yanked it up the front porch steps.

  “What’s that?”

  “My computer. I made it myself.”

  “You brought your computer? You didn’t have to. I’ve got my laptop.”

  “I only work on my stuff. I’ve got special security on it so no one can hack me.”

  “Well, great. Would you like something to drink?”

  He opened his case and set up on my kitchen table. “Sure. Got any Coke?”

  “How about iced tea or water?”

  “I’m good, thanks. Is this about the development stuff?”

  “You’ve heard about it?”

  He laughed and typed on his keyboard. “Everyone’s heard about it. The cops came by school the other day asking about it.”

  “The sheriff’s office?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did you talk to them?”

  “No, ma’am. Just heard they were talking to the principal about it. Guess they thought some kids vandalized the place. I know a few worried they’ll get pinned for it.”

  The men in Magnolia’s car didn’t look like kids, but most kids didn’t look like kids anymore. “Do you think they’re involved?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “Don’t really pay a whole lot of attention to that kind of thing.” He pulled up Firefox and changed the subject. “Okay, what’re we looking for?”

  “I’m trying to dig up some information on a potential client. You know, make sure his company’s on the up and up.

  “No problem. What’s the name of the company.”

  “D.S. Development, but I don’t want you doing anything that could get you in trouble. Your grandmother would have my hide if something happened to you.”

  He laughed. “Don’t sweat it.” He tapped away on his keyboard and a minute later, smiled. “That was easy. Tell me what you want, financials, pending contracts, memos, emails?”

  “You can get all of that? How?”

  He wiggled his hands in the air. “With these.”

  “Isn’t this illegal?”

  He peered over the top of his computer. “Well…” He stopped typing. “Wow. Dude’s got some serious bank. Look at this.” Nicholas pulled up D.S. Development’s year end reports as well as their current quarterly earnings. There were fifteen properties listed, and I jotted each of them down in my notebook including the one he’d purchased in Alpharetta.

  “Man, that’s a lot of zeros.”

  It was a lot of zeros. “That’s more than I expected.”

  “And he’s going to be your client?”

  “Possibly. Can you find anything about when he purchased some of these places? I already have the details on the Alpharetta property.”

  He nodded. “Give me a sec.”

  My printer came to life in the other room. I’d moved everything work related to my tiny office recently because I got tired of walking around my small bungalow when working from home.

  “That should help, but wait, I’m printing something else too, or will be in a sec.”

  His fingers moved across the keyboard at a speed I’d never seen. I tried to read what he typed, but it
was a lot of numbers and letters, and made no sense to me.

  The printer buzzed into action again, and when it stopped, I walked back to my office to get them. I grabbed the papers from the printer, refilled the blank paper area just in case, and briefly read what I could while walking back to the kitchen. I recognized the first few papers immediately. “Oh my gosh, you printed out the closing summaries for each property. How’d you get these?”

  He stared at me.

  “I know. Don’t answer that.”

  “The other pages cross reference crimes committed on those properties. Check out the dates.”

  “How did you know I—”

  He shrugged. “Dude owns that mall in Alpharetta. You want information on his properties. Not too hard to figure out.”

  Busted by a teenager. Wow. I really needed to up my game.

  I spread the papers on the small space left on my table, then matched the closing summary pages with the articles he’d printed from local papers. “Each property he’s purchased was vandalized and put up for sale, except for one.” One property stood out, and it wasn’t a development. He’d purchased the property two years ago.

  Nicholas smiled. “Dude looks like a bad guy.”

  “A very bad guy, actually,” I said.

  “Need anything else?”

  “Actually, yes. I received an email from someone, but they didn’t sign it. It’s a generic looking email address. Can you trace that kind of thing?”