A Bidder End

by Ellery Adams

“Do the people you work with know about Jasper?”

  “No one but Atlas knows,” Helen said. “I don’t like to think about Jasper, or talk about him. He’s a part of my life I’ve tried hard to forget. He was the last person in the world I expected to see.”

  “Yet the minute he called, you went running to him.”

  Helen frowned. “I told you, he said he’d kill himself. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You could have called the police,” he said.

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time,” she said. “It was so sudden, so unexpected.”

  “Let’s talk about your bandaged wrists,” he said. “You were wearing a suit jacket when I saw you at the farmhouse, and you didn’t appear to be bleeding.”

  “I wasn’t bleeding.” Helen rubbed her bandages. “They’re rope burns.” She sighed deeply again. “When I got to the motel, Jasper told me he wanted to apologize. He swore he’d changed and begged me to go back to California with him, to give him another chance. I told him it was impossible, that I’d moved on with my life a long time ago, and it was time he did the same. He told me he knew I was dating Brett. He said he was no good for me, and if I didn’t go back to California with him, he would hurt him.”

  Lombardi stopped writing. “He said he would hurt Brett if you didn’t go back to California with him?”

  “Yes,” Helen said. “I asked him how he’d found me, and how he knew about Brett, but he wouldn’t tell me.” Her eyes filled with tears again. She dabbed at them with the tissue. “When I tried to leave, he grabbed me and threw me on the floor.” She started to cry. “He had it all planned,” she said, sobbing. “He covered my mouth with duct tape and tied me to a chair with rope. My wrists are raw from the rope burns, and so are my ankles.” She pushed the blanket aside to show them her bandaged ankles. “Jasper paced the floor for hours, talking nonsense the whole time, saying he was going to buy me a house with a swimming pool, and we were going to have lot of kids, and he was going to take care of us. At some point, I don’t know when, I fell asleep in the chair. When I woke up, he was gone, but his duffle bag and backpack were still on the floor, so I knew he hadn’t checked out. My purse was on the bed. I tried to scoot the chair over so I could get my phone. That’s when I realized the rope on my right wrist was loose, and after working on it for a while, I was able to free myself. As soon as I got the ropes off, I tried to call Brett, but my phone was out of juice, so I ran outside, got in my car, and drove straight to his house.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Around six this morning,” Helen said. “I thought Jasper had gone to Brett’s. I was afraid he might hurt him, like he said he would, because I wouldn’t go back to California with him.”

  “Why not call the police at that point? Did you think you were going to rescue Brett all by yourself?”

  “I told you, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Helen said. “All I could think about was getting to Brett.”

  “Okay. Tell me what you saw when you arrived.”

  “I went to the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer, so I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I went around back, to the kitchen door, because I know sometimes Brett forgets to lock it. The door was open, and I went in, and I saw him . . .” Her voice broke. “Oh, God. I saw him.” She cried so hard, her body began to shake. Molly rested a hand on her shoulder, and in a little while her tears subsided. Helen plucked another tissue from the box, took a deep breath, and lifted her chin. “I used Brett’s cell phone to call the police,” she said in a shaky voice. “I found it on the kitchen counter, plugged in, charging.”

  Lombardi made a note. “What did you do after you called the police?”

  “I went outside, because I couldn’t look at him.” Helen breathed deeply through her nose. “I called nine-one-one and I waited by my car. A police officer came and asked me questions, but I couldn’t talk. He went into the house, came back out, and a little while later you showed up, asking me questions. But I couldn’t find the words. It was like my mind and my mouth were frozen. The doctor told me I was in shock.”

  “We need to find Jasper.” Lombardi took his cell phone out. “I’m going to step outside to make a call.”

  “Wait, please,” Helen said. “I don’t want to press charges against him. I don’t think he meant to hurt me or Brett. If he did go to see him, he probably went to scare him, that’s all. No matter what he said to me, no matter what I told you, Jasper is not a violent man.”

  “He tied you to a chair and held you against your will. That sounds pretty violent to me. This can’t be swept under the rug. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to press charges. Charges will be filed by the state, and I will question him about Brett’s death. If you hear from him before we pick him up, find out where he is and call me.” He took a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “Your doctor wants you to stay here for observation. Barring any problems, you’ll be released this afternoon, but I would advise you not to go home.”

  “Why?”

  “You said you have no idea how Jasper found you, or how he knew you were dating Brett. I think it’s fair to assume he knows where you live and could be waiting for you. I’ll have a patrol car go by your house every hour to check on the place. But until he’s apprehended, I’d suggest you find a friend to stay with, or book yourself into a hotel. You’ll also need someone to give you a ride. Your car has been impounded. It’s standard procedure.”

  He went out the door and Helen said, “He must think I’m an idiot. Not that I can blame him. I should have called the police as soon as I got away, but everything happened so fast, I couldn’t think, and then I found Brett, and time stopped.”

  “You’ve spent a lot of time with Brett these last few months,” Molly said. “Did he seem depressed or worried about anything?”

  “No, not at all. He was thrilled about the auction, and we were happy together,” Helen said. “Do you know where my phone is? I have to call Atlas and Julian. There are pieces we need to ship out to buyers. Not everyone could take their winnings home yesterday. We have to honor the sales. And I don’t know where my clothes or purse are.”

  She was starting to sound panicky, and Molly patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll ask one of the nurses for your phone.”

  “I need a charger, too.”

  “I’ll make sure they know.”

  Helen leaned back into the pillows. “I’m so tired,” she said.

  She closed her eyes, and Molly went quietly out the door. Lombardi was down the hall by the elevators talking on his phone. She went over to the nurses’ station. A young nurse who looked vaguely familiar smiled at her. “Hello, Mrs. Harrison. You’re not going to have another nosebleed, are you?”

  “Oh, you were there that day,” Molly said, feeling embarrassed. She’d had a nosebleed in an incident at the hospital over a year ago. It was something she’d rather forget, but obviously the staff had long memories. “I was wondering if you have Helen Hughes’s cell phone and her clothes and purse. She wants to make some calls.”

  “It was all in a bag we gave to Detective Lombardi a few minutes ago.”

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to him,” Molly said. As she walked toward the elevators, she saw a visitor’s chair along the wall with a plastic bag on it. Presumably, this held Helen’s personal things. Lombardi finished his call as she came over. “Helen is asking if she can have her phone,” she said. “Are you confiscating her things?”

  “She’s not under arrest, so the answer is no,” he said.

  “But you’re searching her car, which tells me you don’t quite trust her,” she said. “Did you take a look inside her purse?”

  “Only because it opened by accident,” he said.

  “What about her phone?”

  “Password protected,” he said. “Not that I tried to get into it.”

  “Of course not,” she said, playing along.

  “Do me a favor and give her the bag
,” he said. “I’m going to meet a SWAT team at the Crescent Moon Motel to see if Jasper is still there.”

  “He used rope to tie up Helen, and Brett was hanged with a rope. If what you find in his motel room matches what was used on Brett . . .” Her voice trailed away.

  “I’m well aware of what it means,” he said. “By the way, the coroner thinks Brett died between four and six this morning.” He took his car keys out and pressed the Down button on the elevator. “Helen said she got to the farmhouse around six, which puts her in the time frame.” The doors opened and he stepped onto the elevator, but held the door so it couldn’t close. “I’ll let you know what we find at the motel. I hope we find Jasper, but I doubt we will. He’d have to be a complete moron to stick around, if Helen’s telling the truth about what he did to her.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  He let go of the door and it started to close. “Be a reporter and ask questions,” he said. “And let me know what you find out.”

  Chapter 7

  Molly drove away from the hospital thinking Lombardi was probably right. The chances of finding Jasper at the motel were small. Too many hours had gone by. If he had returned to the motel, he wouldn’t have waited around for the police to show up when he saw Helen was gone. He’d be too worried she would have called them. The last thing an ex-con wants is to go back to prison.

  As she neared downtown, the traffic got heavier. In July, Burlington was packed with tourists, and the outdoor pedestrian mall on Church Street, with its shops and restaurants, was a popular destination. Molly felt lucky to find a parking space on Main Street. From there, it was an easy walk to the Treasure Trove. She wanted to talk to her mother and Sean about Brett. But before she went to the shop, she stopped in at Java Jitters for a better cup of coffee.

  Molly loved the coffee shop’s concrete floors, brick walls, and twelve-foot-high tin ceilings. Not to mention the coffee and baked goodies her friend Jazzy Joyce made fresh every morning. The day’s special was on a chalkboard propped up on the counter: fresh baked strawberry-rhubarb pie with a cup of coffee for only six dollars. Molly got in line and waited as Jazzy rang up an order.

  Jazzy was a young Asian woman in her late twenties with short dark hair streaked in purple highlights. She wore a signature apron over frayed jeans and tight halter top that read It’s all about the pie! When she saw Molly, she gave her a smile. And when it was Molly’s turn to be served, Jazzy walked over to her brushed steel coffee machine and said, “One French vanilla latte, coming up.”

  “I’ll have a slice of the strawberry-rhubarb pie, too,” Molly said.

  “Do you want your coffee and pie to go?”

  “No, I’ll eat here.” Molly always got a kick out of watching Jazzy at her coffee machine. She looked like an orchestra conductor, preparing specialty coffees with a flair. When she was done, she put everything on a tray, and arranged the plate and mug just so, along with utensils and napkins. Molly handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” she said.

  “Thank you very much,” Jazzy said.

  Molly lowered her voice. “Have you heard the news? Brett Hamilton is dead.”

  Jazzy’s eyes widened. “No! I hadn’t heard. What happened?”

  “The coroner thinks it’s suicide,” Molly said. “But they’ll know more once the medical examiner does an autopsy.”

  Jazzy made a face. She hated talking about anything gruesome. “Brett was here a few days ago,” she said. “He told me all about the auction, and how much he was looking forward to it. You covered it, didn’t you? What happened? Was it a disaster?”

  “No, it was amazing,” Molly said. “He sold almost every lot.”

  “So why did he kill himself?”

  “I don’t think he did,” Molly said. “Which is why I plan to talk to people who’ve been around him to find out what really happened.”

  “Sabrina Dolan was with him when he came in the other day,” Jazzy said. “She’s here now, sitting in the cubby corner.” The cubby corner was a small booth for two wedged into an otherwise unusable alcove. It was far away from the windows and daylight, and customers only sat there if they wanted complete privacy or didn’t have a choice. “Do you think she knows? She didn’t say anything when I served her.”

  “Julian was going to call everyone who works at Laurel Wreath,” Molly said. “I’ll go talk to her and see if she’s talked to him. See you later.”

  Molly carried her tray over to the cubby corner. Sabrina had her head bent over her phone and didn’t see her until she came up to the table. She looked up, startled. “Oh. Hi, Molly.” Her eyes were clear and dry, so she didn’t appear to have been crying. “Do you want to sit down?” Molly sat across from her. She hesitated to ask her if Julian had called, thinking it would probably be better if the news came from him, but Sabrina said, “I talked to Julian. He said you stopped by the shop. He told me about Brett.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m stunned,” Sabrina said. “It doesn’t seem real.”

  Molly took a bite of her strawberry-rhubarb pie. Jazzy had another hit on her hands. The combination of sweetness and tartness was perfect. “Did Brett say anything to you about any troubles he might have been having with customers, or someone he knew?”

  “No.”

  “What about money problems?”

  “He never said anything to me about money.”

  “What about his relationship with Helen? Do you think he was serious about her?”

  Sabrina shrugged. “Has he ever been serious about anyone?”

  “No. Not really,” Molly said.

  “Julian told me Helen found him, and she was in the hospital. Is she going to be okay?”

  “She had a shock, and a frightening night. Her ex-husband, Jasper Stuart, held her against her will, but she managed to escape early this morning.”

  To Molly’s surprise, Sabrina said, “My father told me about Jasper a couple of years ago. I was in a bad relationship at the time, and he thought using Jasper as an example might convince me it was time to move on. His little lecture wasn’t the reason I broke up with my boyfriend, but my father would probably tell you otherwise. Looks like he was right about Jasper.”

  Molly sipped her coffee. “Did you ever tell anyone else about Jasper?”

  “No. But the day Dad told me about him, Holt was there, and he heard the whole thing. Dad made us both promise to keep it to ourselves. I haven’t blabbed, but I can’t speak for Holt.”

  “Who’s Holt?”

  “Holt Garrido is my father’s driver and bodyguard.” Sabrina’s cell phone lit up. “It’s Dad.” She sent the call to voice mail. “This is the second time he’s called. He must have heard about Brett, and he’s flipping out. He won’t believe me when I tell him I can handle it.”

  “Can you? I’m only asking because I’m having a hard time accepting it myself, and I didn’t see him every day.”

  “Like I said, I’m stunned, but he’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s Julian I’m worried about. He’s devastated. He’s not only lost Brett, but a job he loved. I told him to come over to my house tonight and we’ll talk about it. But can we get back to Helen? What did you mean Jasper held her against her will?”

  “When Helen got to the motel, he told her he wanted her to go back to California with him,” Molly said. “Somehow, he also knew she was dating Brett. He said he would hurt him if she didn’t go with him. Helen said she wouldn’t, and when she tried to leave, he tied her to a chair. She fell asleep at some point, and when she woke up, he was gone. She was able to free herself, went to Brett’s home, and found him.”

  “Poor Helen.” Sabrina picked up her coffee mug and took a sip. “Too bad, it’s gone cold,” she said, setting the mug down. “Do the police think Jasper had something to do with Brett’s death?”

  “They’re looking at everything,” Molly said. She wasn’t going to tell her they weren’t treating it as a murder yet
. With Jasper in the mix, the dynamics were already changing. She finished her pie and took another sip of coffee. “Julian told me you tried, unsuccessfully, to get your father to sign on with Brett for an auction.”

  Sabrina looked at her. “You’re probably wondering if Brett used me to get to Dad,” she said. “The answer is yes, he did. Brett would have done anything to get my father to sign with him. When I couldn’t deliver him, he moved on to Helen.”

  “You think he only dated her because she works for your father?”

  “She has access and influence, which is exactly what he needed.”

  “Have you dated Brett?”

  Sabrina didn’t blink. “No. We never dated,” she said.

  “You told me he was teaching you how to restore furniture, and helping you train for a five K.” Something else occurred to Molly. “Were you with him the day he was jogging in the park and met Helen?”

  “Yes.” Sabrina folded her arms across her chest. “I saw Helen sitting on a bench and stopped to say hello. I introduced them. The next day, Brett asked her out.”

  Molly could hear the hurt in her voice. She had probably grown close to Brett, spending so much time with him. It would be easy to develop feelings for him, to fall in love. Brett was handsome and could be charming, when he wasn’t being a stickler. If she’d had dreams of being with him, his asking Helen out had shattered them.

  Sabrina went on. “I came to realize Brett only cared about two things,” she said. “Himself and Laurel Wreath. I think once the auction was over, he would have broken up with Helen. Julian told me Brett couldn’t be trusted, that he has a reputation for loving and leaving. He’s known him a long time, so I believe him.”

  “Do you know Julian likes you?”

  Sabrina smiled, but it never touched her eyes. “All men like me,” she said. Molly thought that was a stretch, but one thing was clear, Sabrina thought highly of herself. “Julian told me you found one of the stolen cookie jars at Brett’s house, and it had a pawn in it. He said you were trying to figure out how it got there.” She was wearing her long blond hair loose, and took a strand of it in her fingers and started twirling it. “You should talk to Iris Jefferson, my father’s housekeeper. She has a cookie jar collection, and she loves to play board games. It’s her thing.”