“It’s too soon. I don’t want to risk it. You should have heard”—I stopped and took a shaky breath—“Stella’s voice. She was terrified.”
Harriet leaned forward. “You’re sure she’s not in on it?”
That thought had never crossed my mind. I let it sink in and then shook my head. Stella wouldn’t do that. “Yes. What would she have to gain? They haven’t asked for a ransom. Stella has no reason to make me suffer like this, and she’d never be involved in that poor woman’s murder.” I set aside the frame I’d just priced. It was cedar with leaves carved into it. My phone buzzed.
There’s an auction in Acton in thirty minutes.
Bid on lot five. There’s a pocket watch I want.
Other people may want it too. Don’t disappoint
me. The kidnapper sent a link to the auction site.
I showed Harriet the message. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll just make it with traffic and trying to find a place to park.”
“I’ll stay here and price. Call me when you’re done, and we can regroup.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“Go,” Harriet said. She made a shooing motion with her hands. I grabbed my purse and hustled out the door.
* * *
The auction was being held in a one-story warehouse. I’d managed to find a parking spot, race in, and sign up for a buyer number. They handed me a paddle with the number seventy-two on it. Fluorescent lights hung down from rafters. The floor was concrete, the crowd thick. That could hurt my chances of winning lot five. I edged my way closer to the auctioneer. She stood on a raised platform. This wasn’t Sotheby’s, and there weren’t any chairs set out. People stood in clumps around the auctioneer. She had big hair, dyed red, blue eye shadow, and had just finished selling lot two. Thank heavens I’d made it on time. I didn’t want to think about what would happen to Stella if I hadn’t.
The auctioneer moved on to lot three. It was two dining room chairs, mahogany with roses carved in the top. She spoke so fast as she described them that I almost couldn’t understand her. I thought again about the kidnapper’s telling me to act natural. I raised my number and bid ten dollars. The woman next to me moved away slightly. What was that about? Someone bid fifteen. I raised my bid to twenty, heard a gasp, and realized only two of us were bidding. Everyone else seemed to be staring dumbstruck at me. I’d yet to glimpse who I was bidding against. Whoever it was must be in the crowd behind me. And instead of raising their number, they must be nodding their head or making some other kind of indication, because I hadn’t spotted them the couple of times I’d glanced back. Seasoned buyers often did that.
I wouldn’t go higher than twenty. I could sell the chairs for twenty each at my garage sale and had set my top price at twenty when I’d first spotted them. The other bidder raised to twenty-five. I shook my head when the auctioneer looked at me.
“Sold to number thirteen for twenty-five dollars.” The auctioneer smacked her gavel down. She gave me a slight frown, which made me wonder what the heck Stella’s kidnapper had tossed me in the middle of.
A helper brought the auctioneer a vintage tabletop shaving mirror with milk glass bowls in holders and the original brush. He placed it on a table next to her.
“Look at this beauty,” the auctioneer said. “She’s from the early 1900s. Chrome with a cast-iron base. There’s no way you could knock this thing over. There are even clips to hold your razor. As practical today as it was when it was made.”
I loved the lines and didn’t have anything like it for my garage sale, or maybe I could give it to Seth as a gift. It would be perfect in his bathroom with its old-fashioned tub and fixtures. The bidding started at ten dollars. Several paddles shot up. It went to fifteen, and the same paddles shot up. At twenty I thought it was mine because no other paddles went up. A woman sidled over to me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered. She wasn’t looking at me when she said it.
The price jumped to twenty-five. Darn, I wasn’t the only one still bidding after all. I was getting a little annoyed. I bid again. “I’m bidding,” I said to the woman, following her lead and whispering without looking at her. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“No one bids against Elmer Norman,” she said.
Elmer Norman was a New England curmudgeon through and through and lived in Ellington. I’d managed to avoid interactions with him for the most part. But I’d heard stories of people crossing the street, walking out of stores leaving half-filled grocery baskets, and ducking behind trees to avoid him. He was a nasty piece of work who thrived on intimidating people. Just my luck. I glanced around again. Didn’t spot him, but I knew he was short, so he must be in the middle of the crowd behind me.
I quit bidding on the shaving stand. He could win this round, but the next one had to be mine. I just hope he appreciated the gesture. Not that it sounded like he would from what I’d heard.
“Smart move,” the woman whispered.
A helper brought out a box and tipped it toward the auctioneer. She peered in. “This is lot five. We have assorted frames, a beautiful pocket watch, a vintage alarm clock, and two small samplers. Bidding starts at five dollars.”
Bidding zoomed up to fifty quickly. Then almost everyone dropped out. Elmer must have jumped in. But this time I didn’t give up, and neither did someone else.
The lady who had spoken to me before glanced at me. “Elmer collects old clocks and pocket watches. You don’t want to make him angry.”
She was right. I didn’t, but I had no choice. I thought about the text message that said I wouldn’t be the only one who wanted the watch. Before I knew it, I was bidding two hundred dollars for something that couldn’t possibly be worth it. And I hoped I’d brought a credit card with me because I didn’t have enough cash on me to buy this.
“Why does the auction house put up with Elmer’s behavior?” I asked the woman next to me. “Doesn’t it hurt their bottom line when he shows up?”
“He doesn’t always jump in right away, so they do okay. Plus, he doesn’t show up all that often.”
Just my luck Elmer was here today of all days. My stomach felt queasy at three hundred and rising. I heard some noise in the back of the room, cursing. The auctioneer stopped, and I turned to see what she was staring at. The crowd stood aside and I could see Elmer’s back, brown corduroy coat, beanie pulled low. He was leaving, knocking people out of his way as he went.
The woman who’d whispered to me before turned to me. “That’s a first. I’ve never seen Elmer leave without something he wanted.” She spoke in a regular voice this time. Her brow wrinkled. “Is this your first auction? The stuff in that box can’t possibly be worth three hundred dollars.”
“I want it.” I was saved from having to say more when the auctioneer started back up. I had been hoping that, now that Elmer was gone, I’d have the lot to myself, but someone else was still bidding too. I didn’t have time to look given how fast the auction was going. Finally, at four hundred dollars I won, if one could call it that.
The people attending the auction stared at me as I headed over to pay and collect lot five. Their expressions ran the gamut from dropped jaws to raised eyebrows to quizzical frowns. Fortunately, I didn’t recognize anyone. Even though I didn’t, this story would probably spread through town and back to Ellington before people sat down for their dinners. I hoped my success would earn me more hours to find Stella.
* * *
After I paid, I carried my box of prizes to my Suburban, got in, and looked through the box. I took out the pocket watch and opened it to see if it would give any clues as to why someone would want me to buy this particular lot. It didn’t look like anything special. No engraving. No cryptic notes tucked in it. No notes to me written on it. No clue as to why in the world someone would want me to buy this stuff unless it was just to jerk me around.
The round alarm clock looked like it was from the fifties with its two big bells on top. At least it worked with its litt
le tick, tick, tick. I was getting angrier as nothing panned out. No clues. No answers. The small samplers were cute, and I could sell them at my garage sale. With any luck I’d recoup twenty bucks of the four hundred I’d just spent. The frames were cheap drugstore frames. I could add them to the box of stuff that would be free. After I inspected each item, I placed them on the passenger seat.
I turned over the cardboard box that everything had come in. It was ordinary. A grocery store box that had once held dairy products. What a waste of time and money. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. I wished my fingers were wrapped around the neck of whoever was doing this. Then I relaxed my grip. It wouldn’t do Stella or poor dead Alice in Wonderland any good if I couldn’t stay calm and focus.
I fired up the Suburban to head back to John’s house. As I pulled out of the auction house parking lot, a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows pulled out too. I was too on edge to think anything was a coincidence. I kept glancing back as I drove toward Ellington down the 2A past Concord. The sedan kept at least one car between us. I couldn’t see their license plate, and I really wanted to. Maybe this was the person who had Stella. It made sense that he’d be at the auction to make sure I’d done his bidding.
I swerved off onto the narrow shoulder of the road and stopped.
Chapter Twelve
The car was forced to go by me. I swerved back onto the road right behind it to the honks of my fellow drivers. I waved an apology. This wasn’t my normal driving style. The black sedan sped up, and I followed. I got close enough to memorize their license plate. Rhode Island plates. Gotcha. Finally, I was one step ahead of this guy.
They passed a truck on a dangerous curve and sped off, not that I cared. I had what I wanted, but now what? Asking Awesome or Pellner to track the plate for me would cause too many questions. If Harriet could get someone to do it, she’d have to answer the same questions. Since I had no answers, I turned around and went back to the auction house. Maybe I could find out who had owned the things in lot five. Maybe that would be a clue as to who was behind all of this.
* * *
The auction was still in full swing when I returned. People were bidding enthusiastically on a flat screen TV. Quite a different atmosphere from when Elmer was here. Why did the people at the auction let him intimidate them? I saw a sign for an off ice, made for it, and knocked. No one answered, which wasn’t too surprising since the auction was ongoing. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Would I have gone in? Probably, if it meant discovering a way to find Stella. I almost didn’t recognize who I’d become since I’d gotten that first phone call.
I walked back over to the sign-in table for a bidding number. One woman remained at the table. “Hi, I wanted to find the original owner of lot five. I bought it about a half hour ago.”
The woman looked annoyed. “You’ll have to talk to the auction house owner. He’s over at the checkout. Big guy. Plaid shirt. Handlebar mustache.” She put her head back down to some paperwork she was shuffling.
I crossed the back of the room as the auctioneer said that a beautiful antique Victorian desk was their last item of the day. The auctioneer described the desk as walnut with a black lacquer finish and leather top. Under other circumstances I would have loved to take a look and possibly place a bid. But I needed to get this taken care of and move on before the rush of people headed over here to check out.
It was easy to spot the owner. He looked exactly as the woman had described him. “Excuse me,” I said when I arrived at the table he stood behind.
“Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”
“I need to know who owned the items in lot five that I purchased about a half hour ago.”
“You do, do you?”
I gave him my most earnest, wide-eyed expression. “Yes.”
“No can do.”
So much for wide-eyed earnest expressions. “It’s important.” I hated the pleading tone in my voice. But I’d get down on my knees and beg if I had to.
“I’m sure it is, but we don’t share private information about our sellers with our buyers.”
“What about letting me take a look at video from your security cameras to see who brought the box in? I wouldn’t have their personal information that way.”
“I have to give you points for persistence,” he said.
That was a good sign.
“But no. No way. Not a chance in—”
“I get it. It’s a no,” I said. I heard the auctioneer say “sold,” and the crowd moved in our direction. As I walked by the registration table, the woman motioned me over. “Here’s a list of who put what into the auction. I’m going to be over at the other end of the table packing up.”
As soon as she moved off, I grabbed the list. Lot five had been put in the auction by Lew Carrol, and the address was mine. Lewis Carroll wrote the Alice in Wonderland books. This was no help at all, just more taunting by the kidnapper. Another wave of burning anger went through me. I was going to have a stroke before I found Stella. After a couple of deep breaths, I put the paper back down.
“Thank you,” I said to the woman.
“For what?” she said with a wink.
“What made you decide to help me?” I asked.
“I’ve seen a lot of desperate people in my day and you top all of them,” she said. “Good luck with whatever you’re dealing with.”
“Thank you again.” I headed back out to my car. There was nothing else I could do right now—or was there?
I sat in the parking lot staring at my phone. I hadn’t heard anything from Stella’s kidnapper since I’d been to the auction. That unnerved me a bit. I’d expected instructions on what to do with the pocket watch or a text saying I’d gotten two additional hours for my win. But nothing. Of course, he might dock me for my trick of pulling off on the side of the road.
It wasn’t the only reason I stared at my phone. I’d come up with an idea of how to trace the license plate number, but I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.
I made myself punch in the number, gripped the phone so hard I expected it to explode in my hand. Prepared myself to hear the voice on the other end.
“Sarah?”
“CJ.” My ex-husband. His voice was as familiar as an old blanket.
“Are you okay?”
Not by a long shot. “Yes.” No. “I hear congratulations are in order.” Ugh, I sounded trite. CJ was marrying his high school sweetheart and gaining an instant family with her two daughters. At last getting the children we could never have, and CJ and his bride-to-be could have their own now too. It wasn’t too late.
“Thank you,” he said after a pause. “I hear you’re still seeing Seth.”
“Yes.” This was really awkward. I supposed Pellner had told CJ. They were still in touch. CJ was the chief of police in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. His taking that job without consulting me was what had finally ended the chance we’d had to reunite. But it was why I was calling him now. He had access to databases that I didn’t. “I need a favor.”
I heard a sigh. That didn’t bode well for me.
“What?” CJ asked, sounding wary.
“I need you to run a license plate for me. And not tell anyone.”
“Sarah.” He paused. I could picture him running his hand over his face the way he did when he was frustrated. “Why not ask Pellner?”
“I don’t know who to trust. It’s not that I don’t trust Pellner.” I added that bit hastily before CJ could say anything. “But I’m afraid there might be a bad guy in the department and that if I asked Pellner the bad guy would find out.”
“What have you gotten yourself in the middle of this time?”
And there it was. Another reason our marriage had ended. CJ’s lack of faith in my ability to handle things. His need for me to change back to the eighteen-year-old girl he’d married instead of accepting the woman I was. But maybe I was the one who was overreacting. It wasn’t that unreasonable of him to ask this. It was more
the way he asked and his tone of voice that got to me.
“I can’t tell you.” I paused to collect myself. I couldn’t take my anger and frustration with the kidnapper out on CJ. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“You know I can’t use the system for personal business. I’m always on top of our young officers to make sure they aren’t looking up the address of some hot girl or guy they saw on the road.”
“Someone was following me. They scared me.” I waited. And waited. “You know me, CJ.”
It reminded me of something I had said to him almost two years ago. One of the other situations I had ended up being in the middle of. He’d done what I had asked then. I hoped he would now.
Another sigh. “Give me the plate number.”
I read it to him and heard clicks on a keyboard. I almost shook with relief. I didn’t say anything while I waited. Didn’t want to jinx this or have CJ change his mind.
“It’s owned by a Gregory Kiah.”
“What’s his address?”
CJ surprised me by rattling it off. “But that’s not important because the car was reported stolen.”
“Oh.” It was a good thing I was sitting because I felt myself collapsing in. I hadn’t realized how much I was counting on this being the bit of evidence that would lead me to Stella’s kidnapper.
“No more favors, Sarah.” There was another pause. Another sigh. “I’m not in love with you, but I’ll always love you.”
“Same, CJ. And I won’t bother you again.” I ended the call and tried to figure out what to do next.
Chapter Thirteen
After leaving the auction parking lot, I made sure no one was following me. What had that been about? Someone trying to scare me? Someone who wanted the stuff in the box? Again, I had no answers, just more and more questions.
I called Harriet and filled her in. She was heading over to pick up her niece to take her to the grocery store and said she’d check in later. Harriet also gave me a report on how far along she’d gotten pricing things. She’d done enough that I decided to focus on trying to find Stella. But first I drove through Dunkin’s and got coffee and two glazed donuts. Not the best lunch ever, but it was all I had time for. I ate as I drove to the Masquerade Costume Shop in Chelmsford, which was about ten miles north of Ellington. It was the one I’d found online last night.
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