Death by Auction

by Alexis Morgan

  She opened the next yearbook to the football team picture. Bryce was there, but Denny was missing. His senior picture was there, though, so he hadn’t moved away. That might not mean anything, but her spidey senses were tingling. For now, she needed to leave if she wanted to get dinner on the table on time.

  Even if she couldn’t do any further digging right now, at least she now had a name to give Gage. Before she did, though, she’d have to come up with an explanation about how she’d learned it. While he might find the information useful, he wouldn’t necessarily appreciate her poking around even on the edges of his investigation.

  She’d worry about that later. Right now, she had to get home and play hostess to her unwanted houseguest.

  * * *

  The kitchen was normally one of Abby’s favorite rooms in the house. It was large and had enough counter space for two people to work without crowding each other. Certainly, she and Aunt Sybil had done a lot of baking together whenever Abby had come for a visit. She and Tripp had also managed to throw together some quick meals without stepping all over each other’s toes. The same couldn’t be said for her and the barnacle. The past hour had shown her that there was a great deal of wisdom in the old saying about too many cooks spoiling the broth.

  Valerie stirred the pot on the stove. “I tasted the soup a little while ago and thought it needed more oregano.”

  Abby didn’t appreciate the uninvited critique of her cooking. “I put in what the recipe called for.”

  Valerie dipped a spoon into the pot and held the steaming hot soup up to Abby’s lips. “Here, taste it. See if that isn’t better.”

  What was she supposed to say? It wasn’t as if she could take the additional spice back out of the pot. “It’s fine.”

  Of course, it had been all right in the first place. Telling herself Valerie was only trying to help, she forced a smile. “I’ll slice the tomatoes for the sandwiches. Would you open those two packages of cheese and put the slices on that plate over there?”

  They immediately bumped hips when she reached for the same knife that Valerie wanted. When Abby jerked her hand back, she accidentally knocked over the salt shaker, which promptly rolled off the counter to land on the floor. It didn’t break, but the lid popped off and spilled the contents all over the place.

  She almost stomped her foot in frustration. “I’ll get the vacuum cleaner.”

  Valerie didn’t say a word, although Abby thought the woman was fighting the urge to laugh. Let her. Right now Abby had more important things to do. She’d barely started vacuuming up the mess when Tripp knocked on the back door. Valerie darn near vaulted over the kitchen table to be the one to let him in.

  He stepped inside and looked around the kitchen. “Hi, I hope I’m not late.”

  Valerie gave him a high-wattage smile. “No, you’re right on time.”

  Tripp gave Abby a puzzled look as she jerked one of the chairs out of the way to sweep underneath that side of the table. After making quick work of the floor, she used the brush attachment to clean along the edges of the tile. She should probably greet Tripp, too, but right now she didn’t trust herself to be civil. None of this was his fault. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Valerie wouldn’t be there to irritate her so much if he hadn’t taken pity on the woman.

  She shut off the machine and tried to yank the cord out of the wall from where she stood several feet away. When it didn’t come loose, Tripp walked over and unplugged the vacuum for her. Instead of dropping the cord onto the floor, he carried the end over and handed it to her personally. “Kind of late in the day to be cleaning house, isn’t it?”

  His half smile was a strong clue that he was only teasing, but Abby still didn’t appreciate it. Rather than responding, she concentrated on winding up the cord.

  Valerie, ever the helpful one, didn’t miss the chance to poke her perfect nose into their conversation. She moved closer to Tripp before speaking, drawing his attention back in her direction. “Abby somehow managed to knock the salt shaker off the counter. It made quite the mess.”

  Did she really have to make Abby sound like the biggest klutz ever? Evidently. “Yes, Valerie, I spilled the salt. I also cleaned it up. I assume that’s all right with you.”

  Even if she was overreacting, she couldn’t seem to help herself. “I’m going to put the vacuum away now. Dinner is ready. The soup is on the stove. The sandwich makings are all on the table. Feel free to help yourselves.”

  After shoving the vacuum back where it belonged, she forced herself to close the closet without slamming it. There was no way she wanted to go back to the kitchen right now. Instead, she headed toward the front door and out onto the porch. Eventually she’d have to go back and deal with her guests, but not until she let the fresh evening air cool her temper a bit.

  A few seconds later, the door opened behind her. She knew without looking that it was Tripp who had followed her. She gave it two minutes tops before Valerie came trailing after him.

  He moved up beside Abby, standing close but without actually crowding her. It was too much to be hoped that he would leave her alone for a few seconds.

  The clueless male asked, “Abs, what’s really going on?”

  She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath. “Sorry, it’s been a long day, and I have a headache.”

  Both of those things were true. She couldn’t very well tell him that the real pain was standing back in her kitchen.

  Tripp edged a little closer. “Want me to get you something for the headache?”

  “That would—”

  Before she could finish, Valerie appeared right on schedule. “Tripp, your soup’s getting cold.”

  He glanced back over his shoulder. “I would guess that means Abby’s soup is, too.”

  Valerie gave him a wide-eyed look. “I didn’t dish hers up. She said for us to help ourselves. I assumed that meant she’d serve herself whenever she was ready.”

  His expression went totally blank. At least he wasn’t buying Valerie’s innocent act at all. “Come on, Abby. Let’s get you some ibuprofen.”

  Tripp brushed by his ex as if she were the doorman whose job was to greet people entering the house. Abby followed close on his heels, leaving Valerie to bring up the rear. When they got to the kitchen, the table was no longer set for three. One plate and bowl were now sitting on the counter, leaving the two remaining place settings in front of adjoining chairs. How cozy.

  Tripp pulled a chair out and motioned for Abby to sit down. Then he looked at Valerie and pointed toward an empty seat on the far end of the table. She wasn’t happy, but she surrendered to the inevitable and followed his directions.

  He pushed the other bowl of soup over in front of her, along with the necessary flatware and plate. That done, he got the ibuprofen out of the cabinet and set the bottle in front of Abby and then brought her a glass of water.

  Finally, he dished up another bowl of soup and picked up the plate Valerie had put back on the counter. Before sitting down, he asked, “Can I get anybody anything else?”

  “I’m good, Tripp.” In fact, Abby was already feeling a lot better. On the other hand, Valerie looked like she might have her own headache brewing.

  No one seemed inclined to talk as they passed the sandwich makings back and forth. While the silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, Abby had certainly had more pleasant meals. She managed to finish her soup and half of her sandwich. Valerie ate most of her sandwich but only toyed with the soup. Maybe it had too much oregano for her taste.

  Tripp, on the other hand, devoured two bowls of soup and the enormous sandwich he’d made for himself. “Thanks, that hit the spot, Abs.”

  Valerie immediately set her spoon down with more force than was necessary. “Tripp, now that you’re finished with dinner, let’s go for a walk.”

  He’d been about to take a drink of the beer Abby had put out for him when she set the table. “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  That clearly wasn’t the answer Valerie was hoping f
or. She shoved her chair back from the table and stood up. “Can’t or won’t?”

  Tripp either didn’t hear the note of temper in Valerie’s voice or chose to ignore it. Either way, he responded in a reasonable tone. “Since Abby was nice enough to fix dinner for us, I’m going to do the dishes. That’s the deal when I eat over here. After that, I need to study for an exam and do a final polish on the paper I’ve been working on.”

  Making good on his stated intentions, he picked up his dishes, carried them over to the counter, and came back for the rest.

  The barnacle tried again. “Please come with me, Tripp. We won’t be gone for more than an hour. I’ve been shut up in this house all day, and I really could use a breath of fresh air.”

  She sidled around the table to stand next to him at the sink and put her hand on his shoulder. “Back when we were married, we always enjoyed a long walk after dinner. It will be like old times.”

  Abby wanted to hurl. Instead, she fed Zeke and started putting the condiments and leftover meat and cheese back in the refrigerator. Meanwhile, Tripp held firm on his refusal. “Sorry, Val, but I really need to head back over to my place and get to work. If you’re interested, though, I usually go for a five-mile run at six in the morning. You’re welcome to join me.”

  Valerie looked genuinely horrified. “Why on earth would you get up at the crack of dawn to go running?”

  He shrugged. “After twenty years in the army, it’s become a habit.”

  The woman turned her attention in Abby’s direction. “And do you like to run in the mornings, too?”

  When Tripp cracked up laughing, Valerie gave him a puzzled look. “Did I say something funny?”

  Abby answered before Tripp could. “He knows the only way I’d run at that hour of the morning would be if the house was on fire, if then.”

  She looked around the kitchen to see if there was anything else she needed to do, but Tripp had made his usual quick work of cleaning up. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I think a good soak in the tub will be just the ticket to finish getting rid of my headache. Thanks for doing the dishes, Tripp.”

  As much as she hated leaving Valerie alone with him, she walked away without a backward look. It wasn’t as if she had any real claim on the man. That didn’t keep her from peeking out of her bedroom window to see if he did go back to his place. He was just stepping up on his front porch with no sign of Valerie anywhere. Funny how that helped ease the last bit of her headache.

  Tripp opened his front door but stopped before going inside. He walked back to the front edge of his porch, looked straight up at her bedroom window, and waved. Clearly busted, she waved back and slunk off to her en suite bathroom to take that long soak in the tub she’d mentioned.

  She left the overhead light off, instead lighting the row of her favorite pear-scented candles on the shelf above the tub, and turned on some soft music. She left the door ajar in case Zeke decided to come visit. After putting her cell phone within easy reach on the small table next to the tub, she pinned her hair up on top of her head, stripped off her clothes, and tossed them in the hamper.

  Slipping into the steaming hot water, she rested her head against her bath pillow. It felt like heaven, soothing both her headache and her mood. A few minutes later, her cell phone chimed, signaling a new text. It was tempting to ignore the summons, but curiosity got the better of her.

  Just as she suspected, the message was from Tripp. Feeling better?

  Yes. How is the homework going?

  I hate writing papers. I also need to study for an exam. Shouldn’t take too long.

  What class ?

  Biology.

  You’ve never told me what your major is.

  No, I haven’t.

  Secretive jerk.

  I prefer to think of myself as a man of mystery.

  Yeah, right. BTW, I know who the guy was that Bryce was talking to at the auction. I found a picture of him standing next to Bryce in one of the yearbooks. Now I just need to find a way to tell Gage without making him mad.

  Since you did it as a favor for me, I promise not to let him beat up on you . . . too much, anyway.

  Thanks a lot, mystery man.

  One more thing, Abby. I’m sorry Val is being such a problem. I owe you.

  Yeah, he did, but she also knew he was caught between her and a woman he still felt some obligation to protect.

  I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.

  You can always go running with me.

  No pigs have flown by my window lately, so I’m pretty sure that’s not happening.

  LOL. Good night.

  She set her phone back on the table and then added some more hot water to the tub. What else could she do to identify the older man Bryce had spoken to? If the archives of The Clarion were online, she could do some poking around to see if anything about Bryce popped up. She was still pondering that idea when Zeke wandered in. He sat down and gave her a reproachful look. He wasn’t all that fond of baths and never understood why she was.

  Still, he’d come close enough to let her scratch his head for him. “Hi, boy. I promise I won’t stay in here much longer. Then the two of us will curl up on the bed and watch a movie. Maybe I’ll even sneak back downstairs and fix us both a snack.”

  That last word perked him right up. His tongue lolled out of his mouth in a hopeful doggy grin. It would’ve taken a much harder heart than hers to deny those big brown eyes. She pulled the plug on the tub. “Okay, Zeke. Give me a minute and we’ll go forage.”

  And while she was downstairs, she’d grab her laptop, too. It was time to go hunting.

  Chapter Ten

  Abby had learned one really important fact soon after moving to Snowberry Creek: the ladies on the quilting guild were her best source of information about anything and everyone in town. After a frustrating evening delving into the rather limited online archives of the local newspaper, she called her friends and invited them over for an early afternoon tea party.

  She didn’t bother to warn them about her houseguest. Valerie had disappeared right after a late breakfast, saying she’d be back in time for dinner. She offered no explanation about where she was going, and Abby hadn’t asked.

  The front doorbell rang right on time, and she opened the door to let Glenda, Louise, and Jean file inside. “Welcome, ladies. I’m so glad you could come.”

  Glenda, the chief spokesperson for the trio, gave Abby a quick hug. “We’re so relieved you called. We’ve been worried about you but didn’t want to intrude.”

  Louise sighed dramatically. “It was bad enough that woman interfered with your plan to bid on Mr. Blackston yourself. Then she had to go and murder Bryce Cadigan. I just don’t know what the world is coming to. Rumor has it that Gage Logan ordered her to stay in town until he has enough evidence to toss her in jail.”

  Naturally Jean had to add her two cents’ worth to the conversation. “I’m still not happy with that young man, but we can hardly hold Tripp responsible for his ex-wife’s murderous tendencies. Just knowing she’s out wandering around our town unsupervised gives me the shivers.”

  It was hard not to laugh at their rather melodramatic take on the situation. While Abby was certainly no fan of Valerie Brunn, she felt some obligation to correct her friends’ understanding of the situation.

  “Gage hasn’t told me much about the investigation, but I do know Ms. Brunn isn’t the only person Gage and his people were talking to regarding the case.”

  That last tidbit definitely piqued their interest. She could almost see the wheels turning in their minds as she guided them down the hall toward the kitchen. Glenda was the first to realize they weren’t headed into the dining room, where they usually gathered. Abby had been reluctant to pack up Valerie’s laptop, as well as all of the paperwork she’d left scattered on the dining room table.

  Jean stopped to look out the kitchen window before picking a seat at the table, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of Tripp working in the backya
rd. “Why are we meeting in the kitchen? Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s always bright and sunny in here.”

  Abby brought the teapot over to the table and filled everyone’s cup. As the ladies passed around the sugar bowl and creamer, she set out two plates of cookies. “I thought it was a bit cozier. Besides, there’s a mess of paperwork on the table in the other room.”

  Louise usually let Glenda take the lead on any conversation, so it came as a bit of a surprise when she was the one to ask, “So, Abby, what’s the problem this time?”

  Then she frowned. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I just want to know if there is anything we can do to help. I know it has to be hard for you to be involved in another such tragic situation.”

  “Yes, Abby, we hope you know that we’re always here for you, and not just because you’re Sybil’s niece. Your aunt was our dear friend, of course, but we’ve all become quite fond of you in your own right.”

  Jean’s heartfelt comment almost brought tears to Abby’s eyes. While she missed her late aunt, these three women had gone a long way toward filling the hole in her heart left by Sybil’s death.

  “That means a lot to me, Jean. And, Louise, you’re right. I do need your help again.” She paused to sip her tea to collect her thoughts. “Gage asked me if I’d seen Bryce Cadigan talking to anyone in particular the night of the auction. I’ve figured out the name of one of the two men I didn’t recognize, but I was hoping you could help me identify the other one.”

  All three ladies immediately went on point, their faded eyes glittering with intense interest. Glenda set down her teacup and leaned back in her chair. “What can you tell us about him?”

  Before launching into her description, Abby needed to caution them. “Promise me you won’t talk about this with anyone else. You know how Gage gets if he thinks I act too curious about his business.”

  She waited until all three women nodded, not that they were happy about it. No doubt they were thinking there was no use in knowing something their friends didn’t if they couldn’t lord it over them.