Death by Auction

by Alexis Morgan

  Gage stood up. “Well, looks like this day is about to get a whole lot longer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Go inside and lock the doors. I’m going to call Ben, and then we’ll go pay Mrs. Alstead a little visit.”

  “Be careful, Gage. She scared me at the church today. I think maybe she’s more than a little crazy.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  As he headed back down off the porch, she called after him. “I’m sorry I got in the middle of your case again. I did it for Tripp.”

  He waved his hand. “We’ll let it slide this time considering you may have given us the last few pieces to solve this puzzle.”

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A huge mug of dark roast was the only thing that made being awake at six in the morning tolerable. Even Zeke had refused to abandon his bed at that ungodly hour, and Abby didn’t blame him. Not even the sound of her making breakfast had convinced him to come downstairs. After eating a bowl of cereal, she’d taken her coffee outside onto the porch, where the morning air was damp and cool, and the scent of Aunt Sybil’s roses hung heavy in the air. She cuddled under a quilt and sipped her coffee while the sun slowly peeked over the horizon.

  She’d checked the local morning news shows, but there’d been no mention of any new developments in the Bryce Cadigan case. At least the search of her house hadn’t made any headlines, but it was worrisome that there was also no mention of any new arrests being made. Had Robin Alstead been able to explain away her comments about Valerie’s purse or the poisons to Gage’s satisfaction? It was too early to call Gage considering he’d probably been out to all hours last night. If she didn’t hear from him or Ben by midmorning, though, she’d make a couple of calls.

  The sound of approaching footsteps had her sitting up straighter. It was about the time that Tripp usually got back from his morning run. She tried not to think about where—or how—he’d spent the night. It was none of her business, or at least that was what she kept telling herself. After tossing her quilt on the porch railing, she stepped down off the porch to wait for him to appear.

  Unfortunately, the last person she wanted to see stepped out of the shadows. Robin Alstead stalked toward her, that same wild-eyed look on her face that had scared Abby at the church. “You just had to go shooting your mouth off to the police about me, didn’t you?”

  Abby jumped back. “Mrs. Alstead, what are you doing here?”

  The woman’s smile was even more terrifying. “I’m here to snip off one more loose end before I leave town. Luckily for me, I wasn’t home when your good buddies from the police department decided to pay me a late-night visit. I have one of those apps on my phone where I can monitor my front porch from anywhere. Soon as I saw them prowling around, I made a U-turn and holed up somewhere else for the rest of the night.”

  Abby backed up a step and then another. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  Mrs. Alstead followed her step for step. “Don’t play coy, Ms. McCree. At first I couldn’t figure out why the police didn’t drag that Brunn woman right back to jail if they found that purse stashed in your bathroom. The only answer I could come up with is that it was something I said to you at the church yesterday. No matter. Once I shut you up permanently, the cops won’t be able to prove anything since you won’t be around to testify.”

  As she spoke, she pulled her hand out of her jacket pocket; it was clutching a syringe full of a murky liquid. “The bad news for you, Ms. McCree, is that this stuff is lethal. The good news is that heroin combined with fentanyl is surprisingly fast acting. Just ask Bryce. Lucky him. I really wanted him to suffer for ruining my life, but I couldn’t risk someone finding him too soon.”

  When she suddenly lunged toward Abby, she threw her hot coffee, mug and all, right at Mrs. Alstead’s face. The woman howled as she tried to scrub the scalding liquid off her skin. Abby used the distraction to shove her into the large climbing rose by the porch before bolting across the yard, screaming as she ran. Tripp’s door slammed open and Valerie stepped out on the porch. Abby shouted at her, “She’s crazy! Get back inside and call nine-one-one!”

  She’d never make it to Tripp’s house before Mrs. Alstead caught up with her, so she headed around the back of the house toward the driveway, hoping to follow it down to the street out front. As she rounded the corner of the house, she could hear Zeke inside barking like crazy. At least he was safe. It was tempting to look back over her shoulder, but that would only slow her down. Regardless, with Mrs. Alstead shouting threats each step of the way, it was clear she was coming on fast. Either a good dose of adrenaline or insanity was giving the woman an unexpected boost of speed.

  Approaching the sidewalk out front, Abby had but a second to decide which way to turn. Going right would lead her closer to Main Street and the possibility of more people, but going left increased the likelihood she’d run into Tripp. She didn’t hesitate. Left, it was. She pelted down the sidewalk, struggling to keep up the killer pace. Then her foot caught on a crack in the sidewalk, sending her plunging to the ground. Ignoring the pain in her knees and hands from hitting the concrete hard, she struggled back to her feet.

  It was too late. The slight delay gave Mrs. Alstead just enough time to catch up with her. She grabbed Abby’s ponytail and give it a hard jerk, nearly dragging her back down to the ground. “This would all be so much easier for both of us if you’d just stop fighting.”

  “Not happening.”

  She kicked out, hitting the woman’s knee hard, which sent her flailing backward. Abby scrambled backward and took off running again. The pain in her legs made it hard to keep moving, but she’d die if she slowed down. Then, miracle of miracles, her own personal hero stepped into sight where the trail into the national forest ended at the sidewalk. It was enough to give her one last burst of both hope and speed.

  “Tripp!”

  He spotted her immediately and kicked it into high gear. “Abby, run to me!”

  Thanks to his long legs, he closed the distance between them incredibly fast. He shoved Abby aside, putting himself directly between her and her attacker. She struggled to draw in enough air to pant out a warning, hoping he’d understand what she was trying to say. “Syringe. Poison.”

  “Got it.”

  Mrs. Alstead had to know she didn’t stand a chance against a man Tripp’s size, but that didn’t stop her from trying to do an end run around him to get to Abby. In a lightning-fast move, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, the sound of bone breaking nauseating to hear. At least it forced the woman to release her weapon. When the syringe dropped to the ground, Abby picked it up and jumped back out of the way as Tripp took the woman down on the sidewalk and kept her there.

  Abby fought to catch her breath as the sound of her pounding heart gave way to the roar of sirens and screeching tires.

  * * *

  For once, Abby wasn’t the one handing out munchies and drinks. Gage made the coffee while Valerie set out plates and cups. Tripp dug several kinds of cookies out of the freezer and arranged them haphazardly on a platter. Even Zeke was fretting up a storm and acting all apologetic that he hadn’t been out there to help Tripp save the day.

  Tightening the quilt Tripp had draped around her shoulders, Abby endured all the fussing as best she could. When they all finally joined her at the table, she realized someone was missing. “Where’s Ben Earle? I’m sure I saw him out there, too.”

  Gage stirred his coffee. “He followed the ambulance to the hospital. Once they take care of Mrs. Alstead’s wrist, he’ll escort her to the county jail for processing.”

  That was good news. There was no way that woman should be running around loose armed with syringes and threatening people. Abby nibbled a cookie and patted Zeke’s head. “Do we know for sure why she killed Bryce?”

  Tripp ignored her question. Instead he pulled his chair close enough to hers that he could put his arm around her shoulders. With his other h
and, he pushed her coffee cup closer to the edge of the table. “Drink that. It will warm you right up.”

  “Fine, but I still want to know what drove her over the edge.” She dutifully picked the coffee up and took a sip. Yep, just as she expected. He’d laced it with brandy. Considering how badly shaken up they’d all been by her near brush with death, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn everyone’s cup contained equal parts alcohol and caffeine.

  Maybe if she waited long enough, the brandy would loosen Gage’s tongue, and he’d fill her in on what had transpired after Tripp turned Mrs. Alstead over to the police. Abby had been too busy getting patched up by the EMTs—again—to keep track of what was going on. Once they’d cleaned and bandaged her knees, Tripp had reluctantly allowed her to limp back into the house. He’d wanted to carry her, but she insisted on making it that far on her own. A woman had to have some pride. Back inside, she’d wanted to stay in the living room, where she could watch what was happening out on the street, but he’d nixed that idea and settled her at the kitchen table instead.

  The brandy slowly eased the sting of her scrapes and took the edge off the lingering fear from knowing how close to dying she’d come. Tripp, too. It was a miracle that neither of them had been stuck with that syringe filled with death. She leaned in closer to him, the direct contact a nice reminder that they were both safe and sound.

  When he tightened his hold on her, she tilted her face up to look at him. “Things are still a bit foggy. Did I thank you for charging to the rescue?”

  Valerie rolled her eyes and set her mug down on the table. “At least four times so far.”

  For the first time Abby noticed the lines of tension bracketing Valerie’s mouth as she stared at her ex-husband sitting with his arm around Abby. Maybe it was time to put a little room between the two of them, but Tripp only tightened his hold on her when she tried to shift away. Before the moment became even more awkward, Valerie’s phone rang.

  “It’s my attorney.”

  She immediately left the table and headed down the hallway to take the call. The conversation with her lawyer must have been brief and to the point because she was back a short time later. “Good news, everybody. The charges have been dropped, and I can go home.”

  Gage smiled. “That’s really great, Ms. Brunn. It was bound to happen, but Detective Earle must have nudged the D.A.’s office into putting through the paperwork extra fast.”

  Tripp stood up and moved as if to hug her, but she backed away. “I’m going to go call my sister and let her know this nightmare is finally over. Then I’ll see if I can get a flight out later today.”

  No one said a word when Valerie bolted back down the hallway. Abby was happy for Valerie, although she wouldn’t miss having her underfoot. Then she remembered the bad news. The dance was only a few days away, so the barnacle would be back for her big night out with Tripp.

  With that unhappy thought, she held her cup out to the man in question and said, “Can I have more brandy?”

  * * *

  Gage left not long after that, but Ben returned two hours later to take everybody’s official statement on the morning’s events. Tripp sat on the other end of the couch from the detective, while Valerie took the chair next to Abby’s, positioning herself to face the two men. Her luggage was already sitting by the front door, but she’d had to delay leaving for the airport long enough to answer Ben’s questions. Now that they were done, Abby decided to ask one of her own. “So did Mrs. Alstead say why she killed Bryce?”

  Ben put his paperwork aside and leaned back in his seat. “You had it right, Abby. She and Bryce were briefly involved right after he graduated from high school. He was nineteen and evidently just killing time until he left for college, and she was barely twenty-two. The age difference wasn’t all that much, and I guess she took the affair pretty seriously. One thing led to another, and she ended up pregnant. That he would refuse to marry her came as a real shock. Evidently, he made it clear that he had plans for his future and wouldn’t give them up for her. Back then, she must have thought the district wouldn’t keep an unwed mother on staff, so she took a leave of absence ostensibly to work on a graduate degree.”

  He looked pretty disgusted by that point. “If Bryce hadn’t decided to try his hand at blackmail a few years later when she got married, she might have done all right. When she finally refused to pay him another dime, he made good on his threat to tell her husband. Mr. Alstead didn’t believe in divorce, but she said things were never the same between them. She used the money from her job at the store just to ensure Bryce didn’t tell anyone else. I suspect it was her husband’s prolonged illness and death that caused her to snap, but we’ll never know for sure. Regardless, for some reason she clearly decided to put an end to Bryce screwing up her life once and for all. She might fill in a few more of the blanks if the case goes to court, but I hear her attorney is pushing hard for a psych evaluation and a plea agreement.”

  Abby almost hoped the lawyer was successful. After all, Bryce had caused a lot of people pain, not that his bad choices justified cold-blooded murder. She didn’t know about the others, but she was still wondering about a few things that had happened the night of the auction. The detective wasn’t there to satisfy her curiosity, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “So, Ben, do you know why Mrs. Alstead tried to frame Valerie? That couldn’t have been part of her original plan since no one knew she would be there that night.” She glanced in the other woman’s direction. “Not even Tripp.”

  Ben sipped his coffee and set the cup aside. “Near as I can tell it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and Ms. Brunn here had the bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Well, that was putting it mildly considering Valerie had come darn close to taking the fall for the murder. If Abby and Tripp hadn’t lured the plumber over to fix the toilet under false pretenses, Mrs. Alstead might have even gotten away with it.

  The detective was still talking. “Mrs. Alstead admitted she came to the auction with the specific intent of killing Bryce. She tracked his movements after the actual auction ended, hoping for an opportunity to catch him alone, preferably in the parking lot.”

  Then he nodded in Valerie’s direction. “My best guess is that she noticed the two of you arguing and saw Bryce insisting on taking the discussion outside. Who knows, maybe he’d even told her he was about to leave since the main event of the auction was over.”

  Ben paused to look at Abby. “I meant to ask, was he under any obligation to stay for any specific length of time after his official duties ended?”

  “No, the contract only specified that he’d act as master of ceremonies to emcee the auction. He was free to leave after that, but he obviously decided to hang around to catch up with old acquaintances.”

  Pausing to make a couple of notes on his report, Ben picked up the story where he’d left off. “Regardless, Mrs. Alstead didn’t want to miss what might have been her best chance. She exited the building through a side door in the hallway by the restrooms and waited to see what happened next. When Ms. Brunn went back inside, Mrs. Alstead followed Bryce over to his car. After he got in, she knocked on the driver’s window and asked him to roll it down so she could tell him something. As soon as he did, she stabbed him in the neck with a syringe.”

  “Rather than risking being seen, she immediately retreated back inside the building through the side door, which she’d left propped open. From there, she eventually rejoined her friends without anyone noticing she’d been gone.”

  Abby was puzzled. “Bryce’s car door was open when I found him. Do you think he tried to go after her?”

  Ben frowned. “More likely he was trying to get help. Either way, he wouldn’t have gotten far. From what I understand, death would have taken minutes at best.”

  Valerie joined the conversation. “All things considered, I’m surprised he would have let that woman get anywhere near him. He had to know how much she hated him.”

&nb
sp; Tripp looked disgusted. “Apparently that guy had been getting away with all kinds of bad stuff his entire life without any consequences. I doubt he thought anyone would ever get the best of him, especially a woman.”

  Ben agreed with Tripp’s assessment. “Which just shows you what an idiot he was.”

  There was one more thing Abby wondered about. “So Mrs. Alstead managing to get her hands on Valerie’s purse was just the icing on the cake when it came to pointing the police in her direction.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Alstead saw Valerie lay it down on the table before joining Tripp at the door to watch what was going on outside. She picked it up with a tissue to avoid getting her fingerprints on it and then slipped it inside her own purse. It’s doubtful anyone would have noticed with everything that was going on right then.”

  Valerie rubbed her arms as if she were cold. “That’s what I get for leaving the stupid thing just sitting there while I wandered around the room. There wasn’t anything of value in it, so I wasn’t concerned about leaving it undefended. That’s the last time I make that mistake.”

  Meanwhile, Ben closed his notebook and stood up. “Well, I need to get back to the office. Feel free to call me if you have any more questions, Ms. Brunn. I’m really glad things worked out for you.”

  “Me too, Detective.”

  Then he grinned at Abby. “Do me a favor and try to stay out of trouble for a while. As much as Gage and I enjoy your cookies, we could use a little less excitement around here.”

  She almost choked on her coffee. Did he think she really wanted to get caught up in murder investigations? She was still trying to come up with a scathing reply as he started toward the door. Meanwhile, Valerie stood up, too. “Since we’re done here, I’m going to leave for the airport. My reservation isn’t for several hours yet, but there’s a chance they can get me on an earlier flight if I arrive in time.”