The Passed Prop--The Morelville Cozies--Book 1

by Anne Hagan

  The man was walking slowly, hunched over like he was trying to hide in a pasture with no cover. He wasn’t making any noise that I could discern and Sandy must not have been where she could see him. If he made it as far as the barn, she’d give him hell but I didn’t intend for him to get that far.

  Closer...closer...closer...just a little bit further...Bam! I pulled the trigger then watched as the hunched over man teetered backwards and landed on his keister. The gun wasn’t loud at all but it was accurate and I’d made a good shot.

  The intruder grabbed his right shoulder with his left hand and cried out. Sandy bolted from the barn at the sound and made a beeline for him.

  His adrenaline must have kicked into overdrive. He scrambled up and hightailed it to the fence and out onto the driveway. Sandy barely slowed as she ducked and scooted under the bottom rung of the fence to chase him. She latched onto his pant leg as I watched him struggle to shake her while he tried to make his way to his car.

  I couldn’t see much of the car but I could see him from the shoulders up as he seemed to wrench his door open. Even though I couldn’t see her at all, Sandy still snarled and struggled to hold onto the man. I prayed whichever of the four men had shown up tonight, meaning to do harm, he didn’t hurt my dog.

  In all the commotion, I never heard Jesse get up. My first indication that I wasn’t alone watching the events unfolding before me was when the porch light came on below me.

  Chapter 29 – What’s Your Bid?

  Friday Afternoon, November 14th, 2014

  Crane Family Farm

  As I suspected might happen, a few dozen people showed up for the review and auction. I knew most of the folks came for the refreshments and because they’re nosy but, looking around, I could count a few that I knew were there to bid.

  “There are a lot of people here,” Chloe said from beside me.

  “Only a few are serious bidders though,” I whispered back. Most of the rest are here for food and entertainment.”

  Lowering her own voice, she asked, “Are any of those four men here? I don’t see that Frank Lee.”

  “As a matter of fact, Frank just pulled in near the end of the driveway.” We both looked on as he got out of his pickup and walked up the main drive to the side drive, his attention completely focused on the barn. He went directly to it without stopping to talk with anyone.

  Speaking to Chloe again, I told her, “Ed Taylor and Pierce King are both here too. Taylor is the one that has Jesse cornered over there,” I said, tipping my head to my left. “And King, he’s about 30 yards out in front of you, just standing there in camouflage hunting coveralls, arms folded, acting disinterested in everything.”

  “Did those two come together?”

  “Taylor and King? No; and they haven’t spoken to each other at all, that I’ve seen.”

  Chloe raised her eyebrows at that. Turning her back to King, she mouthed to me, “Frank Lee didn’t seem injured. Do either of those two?”

  I shook my head no. “I’m watching for Flores. He’s a smaller guy and the guy out here last night seemed pretty small.”

  “Do you really think he’ll show up here now if it was him out here last night?”

  “I don’t think he’ll be able to stay away. He’s got to know none of us could ID him last night. It was overcast and there’s no light down at the end of the drive. Jesse didn’t get a look at him and I didn’t let on to Jesse that I’d actually shot at anyone, only that I’d heard Sandy going crazy.”

  We moved to the porch and stood up and away, out of the wind, to watch and talk farther from the gathering crowd. I looked at my watch; it was only 12:30. Already, most of the sandwiches were gone and lots of people were milling around my 30 cup coffee urn waiting for it to finish brewing a second pot.

  Frank Lee came out of the barn and headed for the coffee. As if on cue, Ed Taylor left Jesse’s side with a final word and headed toward the barn himself, passing Lee about half way. They didn’t speak.

  Jesse came up on the porch. “Well, we have at least one serious bidder,” he told us. “Old Ed Taylor wants that wood, no matter what, he says. He’s got a big project in mind for it and he tried to talk me into just selling it to him outright, right now, for $500.”

  “I figured that’s what he was up too,” I replied. “What did you say?”

  “Told him no! After we went to all this trouble, we were going to play it out.”

  Mel’s County SUV turned up the drive. Both King and Lee stared her way as she parked and dismounted. They shot each other looks from across both sides of the side drive but didn’t speak and didn’t move toward each other.

  Jesse stepped down off the porch to go and talk with his daughter. Now that he was on board, he’d taken charge of the bidding process, which was just as well. Chloe and I had other fish to fry.

  As Mel and Jesse walked toward the tool shed, away across the yard and far from where everyone else was milling about, another pickup turned in and parked. I nudged Chloe who was turned away from me, looking down toward the barn. “I think that’s Tony Flores,” I said.

  “Is that what he was driving last night?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure it was a car and Jesse said he thought it was too. It would have been easier to hide a car beyond the slope of the drive than a truck that’s lifted like that one.”

  Tony took his time parking. When he stepped down out of the truck I realized he was wearing a heavy down parka. There wasn’t any way to tell if he was injured on sight. I’ll just have to watch him closely...

  He came up to where the two driveways met and stopped to look around. He’s probably on the lookout for Sandy... I had the old Collie locked up in the laundry room at the back of the house and I had the dryer running. She was warm and content and she couldn’t hear a thing. This crowd, on her farm, would have had her in a tizzy.

  Flores was making his way down to the barn as Mel and Jesse emerged from the shed. Jesse held an old wooden box with a hinged lid that I assumed he would be using to put the bids in. I doubted we’d get many. Mel could have just collected them...

  Mel came up the hill from the drive and stood at the base of the porch steps while her father placed the box on the snack table that we’d set up where the two driveways met.

  Jesse cleared his throat loudly, “We’re going to start taking sealed bids now,” he announced. “If you’d like to bid, come up here and get you a slip of paper and an envelope. I got some pens here if you don’t have one.”

  He paused and rubbed his temple then continued, “Put your sealed bid in this here box. At 1:00 the Sheriff will open the box, unseal the bids and read them aloud. The highest bidder gets the contract, payable today.”

  A few people shuffled forward immediately to grab paper and an envelope. Ed Taylor was among them. Pierce and King hung back not committed to bidding and still not standing near each other.

  Tony Flores came up from the barn and went directly to the table to take paper, a pen and an envelope. Leaning over the table, bearing his weight on his left hand, he slowly scribbled out what I presumed to be his bid and his name on the paper then folded it, put it in the envelope and, after just tucking the flap rather than raising it to his lips and licking the seal, he edged the lid up on the box and dropped it inside.

  My daughter isn’t dumb. She watched Flores write out his bid and then looked around. I watched her as her eyes alighted on Lee, King and Taylor, quickly but all in turn. She made a half turn toward me and I could feel her eyes on me but I’d turned away and I didn’t dare look back her way. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen but I hoped it would happen without any intervention from me.

  After a back and forth discussion with his wife, a neighbor from down the way, Chuck Knox, came forward just before one o’clock and quickly placed a bid.

  Mel went back down to the driveway and, after checking the time, asked, “Are there any more bids?”

  No one spoke.

  She opened the box and scooped o
ut the five envelopes inside. The crowd edged closer to the table as she took up a position just behind it.

  Frank Lee, who didn’t even bid, called out from a couple of people deep, “Let’s get a move on Sheriff; who’s the high bidder?”

  “Now just hold your horses over there,” Mel answered him. “I’ll let everyone know everything in just a minute.”

  He was impatient, “Well speed it up there and let us see all of them.”

  Mel gave him her best thundercloud look and then opened the first envelope, unfolded the paper and read it silently. She placed it face down to her right. “The first bid is for $650.00.”

  She didn’t say who it was from but I figured, since it was on the top of the stack, it came from our neighbor Chuck, the last bidder. I wasn’t the only one who wondered about it.

  “Whose bid is it Sheriff?” Lee called out loudly.

  I looked at Chloe, “It’s time. The natives are getting restless.”

  Chloe stepped into the house to use the house phone to call 911. We were going to need the Calvary as quickly as they could get here.

  “I’ll let you know the name of the high bidder only,” Mel told the waiting crowd.

  The next bid Mel opened came, I suspected, from Flores. It was in an envelope with the flap tucked instead of sealed. She placed it face down on the other side of her. “The bid is for $401.00. $650.00 is still the high bid.”

  After proceeding through the next two bids, Mel finally replaced the one for $650 with one for $800.00 and announced it to be the new high bid.

  Just as she started to open the last envelope, an Amish buggy made the bottom turn of the driveway and started up it. Jesse, who was standing just behind Mel, said, “It’s John Gingrich, probably come to bid.”

  Mel quietly unsealed the final bid from the box and placed it face down on the stack of bids on her left side.

  “How much Sheriff?” the impatient Lee called as everyone else watch John dismount and approach.

  Mel held up a finger to indicate Lee should wait and looked directly at John Gingrich. Jesse stepped up to Mel’s side.

  Speaking loudly enough for the assembled group to hear but looking directly at Jesse, John said, “My apologies for being late. I’ve only just heard about the sale.” He swung his left arm out toward the barn and looked that way before continuing, “That barn is made of very fine, solid oak that’s aged well over the years and is in great condition. If you’d be so kind, I’d like the chance to bid for it too.”

  Mel looked at Jesse. He nodded his consent. Lee was incensed and spoke up immediately. “Yer’ too late there Gingrich!”

  Flores and Taylor both started talking too but Mel held up her hands for quiet.

  “Mr. Crane is the property owner; he gives his consent.”

  “This is fixed!” Frank Lee cried.

  “Mr. Lee, you didn’t even bid,” Mel pointed out.

  Mel signaled Chuck Knox out of the group and then called out for Jacob Strieter, a local wood carver and craftsman. Both men stepped forward.

  “You were the other two bidders. How do you feel about letting Mr. Gingrich bid?”

  Knox shrugged, “My bid was low,” he said. “It don’t make no difference to me.”

  Streiter smiled, “I’m guessing I was that last one you opened and I know I was low too but John and I do a lot of business together. If he wins, I know he’ll negotiate fairly with me over a couple of pieces that I really want.” He glanced at Gingrich who nodded his assent.

  “It’s settled then,” Mel said, waving her hands for calm. “Mr. Gingrich will be allowed to bid.”

  She handed him paper and a pen and waited while he hunched over the table to make his blind offer. He folded the paper and handed it back to her then stepped back.

  Mel unfolded the paper, scanned it and announced, Mr. Gingrich wins the right to tear down the barn and take the wood with a bid of $1,500.00.”

  As a few in the assembled crowd gasped at the amount, John, smiling broadly, immediately reached into the pocket of his homemade blue work pants for his wallet. “I’ll make a handsome profit for the church on the sale of the items I intend to make from that wood.”

  Frank Lee snickered and called out, “After his labor, he’ll earn nothing at all with that high bid!”

  “Ah, but,” John pointed out, “I do not work alone, my friend. My horse and my God will do most of the heavy lifting.”

  I left the porch quickly once I noticed the four Quadvillains sort of coalesce together. They started talking very briefly among themselves then Ed Taylor left the group and approached Jesse and Mel.

  I stopped just behind the two of them to listen as he called their attention away from the Amish bidder.

  “We’re going to pool our money over here and offer you more than his bid. We...I...want that wood.” He swung his arm back toward the group of three men.

  “Excuse me?” Mel questioned him. “Who is pulling their money together? You and Mr. Flores were the only bidders of the group you’ve indicated. Even if I were to allow that, the total of your two bids was only $1,201.00. Mr. Gingrich has won the auction fair and square.”

  “We won’t stand for it! We won’t!” Frank Lee yelled as he grabbed onto the right shoulder of Tony Flores who was standing to his left. Flores winced hard and nearly collapsed in his pain. Pierce King, who was standing behind him, unceremoniously hauled him back up. Tony’s face was ashen.

  “Stand for what, Mr. Lee? What’s this really all about?” Mel asked him. The crowd parted as she strode around the table and stopped in front of the three men. When none of them spoke, she half turned to look at Ed Taylor who was still standing near me, Jesse and John.

  “Edwin Taylor, why don’t you fill me in here? What is it about that barn that’s got the four of you all worked up?”

  As the words came out of her mouth, a county police cruiser, siren blaring and lights flashing, turned the corner out on the road and roared up the drive trailing dust and flinging gravel in its wake. A second cruiser followed the first in much the same manner.

  Four officers alighted from the two squad cars quickly, holsters undone, ready to draw their weapons. Deputy Joe Treadway stepped forward.

  “Is everything under control Sheriff? We got a report of a shooting and a suspect being contained,” he told her.

  Mel didn’t bat an eye or let on that she wasn’t aware of any shooting.

  Before she could frame any sort of response, I stepped forward and told the deputies, “I’m the shooter. I shot Anthony Flores last night with a .22 when he was trespassing on this property to do harm to that barn over there.”

  “What! That’s crazy!” Flores shouted out. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” The sweat on his brow and neck in the chill of the mid-November day though belied his words.

  “If you have him remove that heavy parka, I’m sure you’ll find he’s sweating it out as a result of a bullet wound to his shoulder that’s causing him to be in agony and not because he’s too hot,” I directed at Mel.

  She looked at me and then back at Flores, “Remove your coat please Mr. Flores.” Two of the deputies moved forward toward the grouping of men, as she gave her order. The rest of the crowd shrank backwards but continued to look on silently.

  Tony Flores didn’t comply.

  “You’re sure it was Mr. Flores out here last night mom?”

  I nodded. “Sure as shootin’,” I said and smirked at the man who was the current object of everyone’s attention.

  Treadway walked up beside him and, taking his cuffs out with one hand reached out to Tony with the other, grabbing his right arm. “You’re under arrest for trespassing...” Treadway started the process of taking him into custody and reading him his rights but the man collapsed in a heap of obvious pain.

  “You people are all tripping on something,” Frank Lee said. “I’m out of here!”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Lee. You’re certainly not innocent he
re either. None of you four are.” I shook a finger and looked at all of them one by one.

  Mel and her deputies formed a tight ring around the three Quadvillians. Ed Taylor started to step back into the crowd but, from the corner of her eye she caught the movement and ordered him to remain in place.

  “Before John gets to taking that barn apart, if you bring the stakes that you took from the first two crime scenes,” I said to my daughter and her team of deputies, “you’ll find that at least one of them will match up to a break in a board in the hayloft.” In my mind, I prayed that I was right.

  The look on Frank Lee’s face went from defiant to scared. Ed Taylor, now rooted to a spot apart from the crowd, cast his eyes down but then switched to looking at Tony Flores who was now seated on the cold ground.

  It was the normally controlling Pierce King who cracked under the pressure. “I can’t do this anymore guys...I can’t,” he said. “My heart can’t take it.”

  Lee and Taylor’s heads both spun and they glared at him, daring him to speak. Tony Flores, in his pain, didn’t even seem to know what was going on.

  “Do you have something to say Mr. King?” Mel questioned him.

  He looked at his partners in crime and then sold them out. “We did it, the four of us. We killed those people.” He dropped his head and his shoulders slumped.

  Frank Lee started yelling again about people being crazy and talking stupid. Mel shushed him with a wave of her hand. “Are they Frank?” she asked. “I’ll say this; Kimberly Brietland was brought out of her medically induced coma this morning. I’m informed she’s lucid. She’s under heavy guard right now and will remain so but, I’m sure, once she’s ready to talk she’ll have a more than a few things to say.”

  The high and mighty Pierce King fainted.

  Chapter 30 – Denouement

  Friday Afternoon, December 12th, 2014

  Crane Family Farm

  “It’s a done deal, Faye! It took a month, but the store is ours!” Chloe’s excitement was palpable as she and Marco came into the kitchen from the driveway and crossed the threshold into the sitting room.