Death by Auction

by Alexis Morgan

  The conversation with the attorney lasted longer than Abby would’ve expected. Trusting Tripp would fill her in after he hung up, she didn’t bother trying to follow the discussion. He finally hung up just as she set their food on the table. Before digging in, Tripp studied his heaping plate and then grinned just a little.

  “Gage is right, you know. All it takes is someone walking in the door for you to start offering up food of some kind. You just can’t help yourself.”

  Maybe the worst of the crisis had passed if he was up to teasing her. “Well, considering how often you benefit from that compulsion, I wouldn’t complain if I were you.”

  He immediately loaded up his fork with a huge bite of the scrambled eggs. “Not complaining. Just making an observation.”

  She gave him a mock glare. “Just eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Then we’ve got work to do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “We’ve pretty much eliminated Gil Pratt from our suspect list, but the jury is still out on Denny Moller and maybe even Mrs. Alstead. Who knows, if we play our cards right, we might even figure out if there’s someone else out there who wanted Bryce dead.”

  “And what about Gage’s threat to toss you in jail for messing with his case?”

  She shrugged. “As long as you’re in the next cell, at least we’ll both have someone to play chess with.”

  Tripp reached for his coffee. “But who’ll bring me treats if you’re right there in the next cell?”

  Abby pretended to give the matter some serious thought. “Well, considering how mad Gage would be, I’m betting he’ll recruit Jean to make us one of her special tuna casseroles. Maybe a combo with all your unfavorite ingredients. Yum! Anchovies, jalapeño peppers, and crushed barbecue chips.”

  Tripp shuddered. “That idea alone is enough to give me both nightmares and heartburn.”

  “So you’re saying we should stay out of the investigation?”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No, I’m saying we’d better not get caught.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Worry over what they were about to do made it impossible for Abby to finish her breakfast. Well, and then there was the muffin she’d eaten earlier when Ben and Gage had still been there. Either way, she gave Zeke a rare treat of scrambled eggs and a crumbled-up piece of bacon. The dog wolfed down the unexpected bounty and then resumed his hopeful stance next to Tripp. He should’ve known better, but dreams die hard.

  “Sorry, boy, but seems I worked up quite an appetite myself.”

  Despite his words, Tripp broke a piece off his last strip of bacon and slipped it to his furry friend. “I know we’ve got plans to make, but you’re not the only one who didn’t get a chance to shower today. I was up until after midnight doing homework, so I got a later than usual start on my run this morning. I had just gotten back when Gage and Ben pulled up out front.”

  That explained how he’d managed to spot them so quickly. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ve got a couple of chores that need my attention. I’ll meet you out on the back porch”—she paused to glance at the clock—“say, in about thirty minutes. If you need more time than that, just text me.”

  When Tripp carried his dishes over to the sink and reached to turn on the faucet, she stopped him. “Leave those for me this time.”

  He didn’t argue but remained right where he was, his hands clamped down on the edge of the counter and his eyes tightly closed. “I hate this for her, Abby, because I know what it’s like to be on the inside of those bars looking out. I thought I’d go crazy locked in that cell like a caged animal even if it was my own fault that I was there. I know you’ve figured out that I patrol the yard at night because I don’t always do well with enclosed places anymore. All that kept me going from day to day for the short time I was locked up was knowing that eventually they’d have to let me out.”

  She hated the pain in his voice as he kept talking. “As jail time goes, I get that I had it easy. I had Gage to play chess with and then there was you. Stubborn woman that you are, you kept shoving your way past any barriers they tried to put in your way to make sure I was okay. That helped more than you know.”

  He drew a shuddering breath as he finally turned to face her. “But unless we figure out what really happened that night, Valerie could end up doing hard time. I’m not sure I can live with that.”

  Earlier, Tripp had hugged his ex-wife, saying without words that she wasn’t alone in this mess. Now, Abby offered him the same bit of comfort, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. “She’s not alone in this, Tripp, and neither are you.”

  He responded by resting his chin on her head and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. They stood in silence for several seconds. Then Tripp leaned back and smiled down at her. “Thanks, that helps.”

  Then he did something totally unexpected. He kissed her, and it wasn’t one of those hit-and-run cheek kisses he gave her sometimes. No, he took his time and did it right. When at last he released his hold on her, Abby staggered back a step to lean against the kitchen table.

  She wasn’t sure she could’ve put together a coherent sentence even if she’d known what to say. He knew it, too, judging from the rather smug grin he offered her right before heading toward the door. He pointed toward the clock on his way out.

  “See you in half an hour. Let’s not be late.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes passed in a blur. After washing the few breakfast dishes, she started a load of laundry before doing a quick sweep of the tiled kitchen floor as well as the hardwood floors in the hall. One of the few downsides of having Zeke for a roommate was his unfortunate habit of leaving a dust cloud of dog hair behind wherever he went. Considering how much she appreciated his company, having to run the dust mop several times a week was a small price to pay.

  Besides, she did her most creative thinking while her hands were busy doing something else. As she did one last loop around the edge of the kitchen, she reviewed everything that had happened since the night of the auction. It all played out in her head as if she were watching one of those TV mysteries where the murder happens right at the beginning of the show so the viewers know who the killer is and watch as the homicide detective figures it all out in less than an hour. Deductive thinking always proved that the bad guys were never as smart as the cops.

  Too bad real life didn’t work that way, no offense intended to either Gage or Ben Earle. Even though she trusted and respected both men, she didn’t know a darn thing about the district attorney who had evidently now taken control over the case. Again, on television it always seemed like the D.A. was ambitious and wanted to use a high-profile murder trial as a stepping-stone to further his career. What if that was true in this case? After all, Bryce had been a locally known celebrity of sorts. A beautiful woman like Valerie Brunn made a much more captivating villain than the other people on Abby’s list of suspects: a small-town plumber, a retired school teacher, and a biker.

  After putting away the dust mop, she gathered up the notes she’d been making and poured two glasses of iced tea. Before carrying them out onto the porch, she considered making up a plate of fresh fruit for her and Tripp to munch on. She had apples, strawberries, and some blueberries she could use. However tempting, she’d been teased enough about her habit of feeding everyone in sight. A movement in the backyard caught her attention. Tripp was right on schedule, so she let Zeke out to greet their guest.

  Once the dog was out of the way, she stepped out onto the porch. As usual, Zeke had already convinced Tripp to stop and play fetch for a few minutes. It was a good way for both man and dog to burn off a little energy before it was time to settle down and get to work.

  After half a dozen or so tosses of Zeke’s ball, Tripp gave the ecstatic dog a thorough scratching and then a belly rub before throwing the ball one last time. As he made his way to where she waited on the porch, Abby noted his hair was still damp, and his face was now clean shaven. Although
she didn’t mind a little scruff, he looked better. Definitely calmer. That was good, because cool heads were imperative when trying to solve a murder.

  Her partner in crime dropped down in the other Adirondack chair with a heavy sigh. “I definitely feel more human. Did you have time to get everything done that you needed to?”

  “Enough. I’ll have to go change loads here in a little while, but otherwise everything is under control.”

  “Good.”

  He picked up his tea but frowned as he looked around. “What? No snacks? It’s been half an hour since you shoved food in my direction. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Jerk.”

  She’d put up with a little razzing as long it meant he was smiling again. “I thought I’d hold off until you had time to digest the huge breakfast I made for you.”

  “Good idea.” Then he grinned and rubbed his hands together. “So I’m pretty new to this detective business. What do we do now?”

  She opened her file. “We review the facts as we know them, think about the people involved, and go from there.”

  “That makes sense. Should we start with the victim himself? You’d think if we can figure out what he did to get himself killed it would lead us straight to his killer.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She pulled out the page with Bryce’s name at the top and quickly skimmed biographical information she knew about him. When she was done, she handed it to Tripp. “See if I forgot anything.”

  It didn’t take him long to read over it. “No, that pretty much paints the picture I have of him, which is basically an egotistical jerk with a stunted conscience.”

  Then he held out his hand for her pen. “Now, let’s list everything he did that either speaks to his rotten character or to motive for his murder.”

  Abby bit her lower lip while she decided which person they should start with. Finally, she said, “If we believe what Gil Pratt told me, Bryce was a juvenile delinquent who never got caught or if he did, no one has mentioned it.”

  As Tripp took notes, he added, “We also know for a fact he wasn’t above a little blackmail if the opportunity presented itself.”

  Hindsight was always perfect, but Abby found herself saying, “Although I understand why they made the decision they did, it’s really too bad Valerie and her sister didn’t go straight to the police as soon as Bryce threatened Becca. It would’ve been embarrassing if the video had come out, but at least Valerie wouldn’t have gotten caught up in a murder investigation. Now, even though she’s innocent, her name is going to be dragged through the muck and at least the existence of the video could still become public knowledge.”

  Tripp didn’t disagree with her. “They’ll both survive the embarrassment. A life sentence for murder is a whole different matter.”

  True enough. “Now let’s review our suspects and what we know about them.”

  It didn’t take long to read over their meager findings and the few facts they knew weren’t all that impressive. Tripp did a quick recap.

  “Gil Pratt’s family didn’t like Bryce because of the trouble he caused both brothers with the local police. They also suspected him of stealing their family silver, but it seems unlikely they would’ve waited this long to get their revenge. Let’s leave him on the list for now but as a low-probability suspect.”

  “Agreed.”

  Who should they discuss next? For no particular reason, she picked the school teacher. There was just something about that woman that bothered her even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  “I included Robin Alstead on the list. I swear she wasn’t at all happy to see Bryce at the auction, but she insisted otherwise. That she was glad to see him and proud of his accomplishments. I thought she sounded far more sincere when she said similar things about Denny Moller. Regardless, she clearly took the news of Bryce’s death hard that night, making it difficult to picture her as a killer.”

  Tripp frowned. “I’m pretty sure killers don’t all look alike.”

  “True enough. I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but you wouldn’t believe how much that woman has changed since the beginning of her teaching career. She looked so happy and really pretty in the faculty section of the yearbooks I looked at. Honestly, I was surprised when Melanie said Mrs. Alstead was barely twenty when she started teaching. That would make her somewhere in her early forties now.”

  That news clearly shocked Tripp. “Seriously? I would’ve guessed she was another ten, maybe even fifteen years older than that.”

  “You’ve got to wonder what happened to make her change that much.”

  “There’s no telling. It could be any number of things. You mentioned she’s a widow. Losing her husband at such a young age would definitely have its effect on her.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything Abby could have said to that. She’d lost her own husband, but then a divorce was a completely different thing. It was a relief when Tripp moved on to the next suspect, even if this one was particularly difficult for him to consider. “Bryce blackmailing Valerie’s little sister seems a whole lot worse than what he did to the Pratts back in the day. Add in the fact that Valerie had words with the man on the night in question, things clearly don’t look good for her. I still say that while she’s ambitious and maybe even ruthless when it comes to her career or protecting Becca, I don’t believe she’s capable of murder.”

  Abby hesitated before commenting. Deciding this process wasn’t going to work unless they looked at everything from both sides, she jumped into the deep end. “So let me play devil’s advocate here, Tripp. Believe me when I tell you Valerie was really angry when she confronted Bryce at the auction. She was clearly darned determined to end the threat to her sister, which was why she decided to reach out to you in the first place.”

  Then it dawned on her to ask something she’d been wondering about from the beginning. “Did she ever tell you what she expected you to do about it?”

  He shifted as if he suddenly found his chair uncomfortable. “Yeah, she wanted to see if me threatening to beat the daylights out of him would convince him to stop.”

  Abby was instantly outraged on his behalf. Yeah, he was a highly trained soldier with all kinds of mad fighting skills. That didn’t mean he was some kind of weapon that Valerie could point at a target like Bryce Cadigan and simply pull the trigger. “Are you kidding me? Did she really think you’d do something like that? Clearly she doesn’t know you as well as she thought she did.”

  Tripp frowned as if he couldn’t understand why Abby was so angry. Seriously? After years without any contact, that woman had been willing to use her ex-husband in a way that could’ve hurt him. If Tripp had gone after Bryce, he might’ve ended up in trouble with the law and right back in jail.

  What was it about Valerie that prevented him from seeing how she was using him? Since he didn’t want to hear what Abby was trying to tell him, let him figure it out for himself. Right now, they needed a plan.

  She fished a fragment of ice out of her glass of tea and stuck it in her mouth in the hope it would cool her throat as well as her temper. As it melted, she considered their options. “So, we need to figure out a way to talk to Denny Moller about his relationship with Bryce. The problem is how to approach him without being obvious about what our real motive is.”

  “He’s a plumber, right?”

  “Yeah, he is, and from what I’ve heard, he’s done all right for himself.”

  Tripp nodded. “Even if he built a good life, it wasn’t the one he’d envisioned for himself. The damage Bryce caused Moller was as far back in the past as the trouble he caused the Pratt brothers. The only difference is that each day Moller picks up a wrench to fix a pipe, he’s reminded of what might have been.”

  “Exactly.” She set her tea aside. “There’s something else about him. Leif and the guys were at the auction for the same reason you were—to support the veterans group. You’re all members because you spent time in the service. The same
was true for most of the people there. Some others, like the mayor, for instance, were there because it’s expected that people in her position will show up at community events.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “So why was Denny Moller there? He isn’t a veteran. Mrs. Alstead said her late husband was in the service at some point. It would make sense that she might want to show her support, but Denny never served.”

  “So you’re wondering if Denny only came because he heard Bryce Cadigan was going to be there.”

  Before she could respond, he shook his head. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in that thought. I’m sure a lot of people were there just to support our group. I know some of Pastor Jack’s parishioners came for that reason.”

  Darn, she’d thought she’d been onto something there. Sighing, she said, “Yeah, you’re right. We’re not exactly back at square one, but we still don’t have a plan for how to approach Denny Moller.”

  “Why not make him come to us instead? You’ve got an old house with old pipes. You can legitimately get an estimate to update some of the plumbing.”

  Not a bad idea but potentially expensive if he charged for making a house call. On the other hand, she did have some improvements that would eventually need to be done in both her house and the one Tripp lived in.

  “Maybe I can come up with a small job for him to come out and fix. To make it worth his time, I could also tell him I need some firm prices on some future jobs so I can see how far my budget will stretch toward getting things up to current code.”

  Her co-conspirator looked a bit worried. “I could always crack one of the pipes under the kitchen sink. Something that wouldn’t be a hard fix. It would be easy to make it look as if I tried to do the work myself and managed to screw it up. I’d pay the bill, of course, since we’re doing this to help out Valerie.”