Garage Sale Stalker (Garage Sale Mysteries)

by Weinert, Suzi

Was she just edgy from her earlier encounter with Wrestler? Once suspicion clouds your mind your perceptions change. Different from the in-her-face prickly danger radiated by Wrestler, Swordsman’s unlikely behavior triggered her curiosity—something odd about him!

  Enough. Didn’t curiosity kill the cat? Her smile faded. She was that curious cat!

  As if reading her interest, Swordsman turned to look directly at her and their gazes locked. To break this uncomfortable contact, she consulted her watch—her time was running out!

  Ignoring Swordsman now, she stepped forward for a better overview of the sale. Her glance moved across the merchandise, stopped, then riveted. Could it be true? At the end of the far table sat a collection of Blue Danube china! She could hardly contain her excitement!

  Years ago, she inherited her mother’s Blue Danube place settings for eight and using it brought back warm childhood memories. Adding extra settings to accommodate her large family was easy back when it sold open-stock in department stores. But the now-discontinued pattern was no longer available retail, even though breakage and chips required frequent new additions. A company called Replacements, Inc. charged dearly since the current demand exceeded the existing supply, forcing the price up. Now occasional lucky finds still occurred at antique and thrift shops or estate and garage sales.

  She moved swiftly past the other displays to the table. There they were! Turning the gravy boat upside down, she verified the maker’s mark on the bottom. Calm, be calm! Check each piece for chips, cracks, maker’s mark and price. The gravy boat sticker read $10 , salt and pepper $7, candle sticks $5 each, filigree serving dish $15, cream and sugar $15, cake plate $15, jelly jar $5, pitcher $10, coffee pot $15—and all in mint condition. She felt pricks of adrenalin rush down her arms to her fingertips as she gently eased past another shopper who reached for one of the pieces.

  “Excuse me,” she smiled politely at the shopper, “but I’m already buying these,” and then a bit louder to Yellow and Red, “Would you please help me collect them and wrap them up for me?”

  Yellow hurried to assist. “Well, they sure are pretty little blue and white dishes, aren’t they? You want them all?”

  “Yes, please. Was this part of a whole set of china?” Jennifer probed.

  “Well now, a lot of it sold about 30 minutes ago but I think another piece is still inside the house unless Reba’s keeping it—a sort of casserole dish with a cover on it. Let me ask her about it.”

  Jennifer wondered at the connection between the upscale items at this handsome house and the folksy heirs unloading them. Certainly a story here, but probably not one learned diplomatically. With an important purchase in progress she must not risk alienating them, despite her curiosity.

  A moment later Blue walked over to Jennifer. “You the one interested in more of these dishes?”

  “Well yes, I might be. I... ” Jennifer hoped her voice didn’t reveal her true passion as she made a Herculean effort at casualness. “I sort of like blue and white and think I might be able to find a place for some of them,” she somehow managed.

  “Seems like you sure love dishes! While they’re wrapping up your other things, come on in the house with me to take a look at it, but I don’t know for sure yet if it’s for sale.”

  Nearly trembling, Jennifer followed Blue into the house, through the box-strewn kitchen to the cluttered dining room with paintings stacked against a wall. And there it was. Jennifer couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of breath. To cover this betrayal, she faked a small cough.

  Like a museum piece atop the credenza sat the graceful Blue Danube soup tureen, a replica of the emperor’s own Meissen original. She’d often ogled its photo in the brochure. Steadying herself against the door jam, she felt her pulse race. What pleasure to gaze upon this beautiful piece, never mind the intoxicating possibility of owning it! How could she persuade Blue to let it go?

  “Oh, my,” Jennifer whispered. “Looks like your mother owned a lot of nice things.”

  Rather than accepting the intended compliment, Blue’s face became even sterner. “Actually, she’s my husband’s mother, not mine. He’s sitting outside there with the rest of us, the one in green, wearing the straw hat. Yes, she did have a lot of right pretty dishes and statues and such, but just between us she always acted real snooty.”

  Doubting its wisdom, Jennifer risked a curious, “Oh?”

  “Yep, she was always uppity with me, like I wasn’t good enough for her son. Tried to like her but just never could. My dander went up every time she put me down: how I set a table, the way I cooked, the music I liked, how I dressed. Truth is, I’m not real sorry she’s finally gone.”

  Thinking of no discreet response, Jennifer instead reached for the tureen. “May I?”

  “Here, let me do it for you,” Blue responded protectively. “This here is the lid, and this is the bowl part. I’ll turn it over for you because I saw you doing that with the other pieces outside. And that’s the big saucer that sits under it.” Blue replaced the tureen and its parts on the credenza. “And this here is the dipper,” she held up the soup ladle.

  “Did I understand you to say this is for sale?” Jennifer inquired politely.

  “Maybe, but first I want to see how much you like it, cause that would mean you’d pay... I mean, you’d take real good care of it. And next, I’d be asking a lot for it because I’m just as happy to keep it myself. So I might sell it to you but not for less than...” she’d pick an outrageous price, doubting anyone foolish enough to buy it for that, “not for less than $100,” she said smugly.

  “A hundred dollars? I... is that your best price?”

  “Not a penny less. Yep, that’s it, take it or leave it,” said Blue with finality.

  Jennifer frowned, “Then I guess...I guess I’ll take it!”

  Surprise spread across Blue’s face. What kind of place was this McLean, Virginia? Who ever heard of paying that much for a darned old dish, even one with three parts and a dipper? Should she have asked more? A crafty expression flickered across her face. “I meant to say $125.”

  “But you just offered it to me for $100 and I agreed.”

  “Yes, I know that but I made a mistake. And we don’t take checks! ” Blue warned.

  “I understand about preferring cash, but... well, I mean… you changed the deal.”

  “Yes, I did, but I’m just as happy to keep that casserole myself. And they need me outside! Do you want it or not?”

  Jennifer stared at the tureen. Explaining this impulse purchase to Jason would require creativity. But just look at it—she might never ever stumble upon another such chance! Straightening with decision she said, “I’ll take it.”

  “You got the money with you?”

  “Yes, in the car.”

  “Better get it and pay me then before I even carry it outside the house,” Blue added with caution.

  Hurrying outside, Jennifer whispered to herself over and over: Don’t let her change her mind! Please, don’t let her change her mind!

  Five minutes later, with the packaged Blue Danube china braced safely in cardboard boxes on the van’s floor, she gloated. Even if you were lucky enough to find them, these pieces cost more than double what she just paid and the four-part tureen more yet!

  Euphoric, Jennifer turned toward home!

  CHAPTER 5

  Her time-sensitive jaunt finished and aglow with her success at the sales, Jennifer relaxed on the drive home. Gliding past the well-kept McLean houses surrounded by manicured lawns, she reflected that this community “showed” well today just as it had twenty-five years ago when Jason’s new job first prompted their springtime visit to the Washington, D.C. area.

  After a week of fruitless house-hunting but still seeking a roomy, affordable home for their five young children, they extended their search to a Virginia suburb of D.C. called McLean. That morning their agent showed them a house new on the market—colonial-style on a quiet cul-de-sac where springtime flowers splashed glorious colors acr
oss the yard. With a large yard bordered behind by wooded park land for their kids to explore, two blocks from pool and tennis and three blocks from an outstanding Fairfax County elementary school, this property seemed perfect. But the cost! Would they sacrifice the kids’ college funds to buy it? They moved in a week later.

  Jennifer smiled. Despite a tight budget in those early days, time proved this decision wise. Their family thrived in this congenial neighborhood and the property’s price quadrupled in the intervening twenty-five years. Eventually, they financed their children through college after all.

  Nearing home, Jennifer snapped out of her reverie, pressed the remote control to open the iron driveway gates, maneuvered the van through the tall brick columns on either side, pressed a second remote to open the garage door and drove inside. Jumping out of her SUV, she picked up the toaster, piled an armful of her other purchases atop it and hustled them into the house.

  She found Jason drinking coffee and reading the newspaper on the long glass-enclosed sun porch covering the entire back of their house. “Hello, Hon,” she called. “Are the children up yet?”

  “Just me, but I heard the shower, so at least one’s awake.” Jason looked up from the paper and added, “The girls usually sleep late like all college kids—lucky if we see them before noon. Aren’t you home sooner than usual?”

  “Becca’s summer job interview is this morning. Her car’s in the shop so she asked to borrow mine because you need yours for golf at ten.”

  Though eager to tell him about her buys, she knew function equaled desirability to her engineer husband: something to use ranked higher than something to see. So she needed to apply some finesse. Ignoring his skeptical frown, she held up two sturdy garden trowels and said, “Here’s something for you! Didn’t your last one break yesterday? They’re new and only a dollar each!”

  “Great,” he said without enthusiasm, but she knew he’d garden with them before the day ended.

  “And a lot of ‘smalls’ plus these nice earrings!” She pointed to her earlobes. “The clip-on’s I wear are nearly impossible to find retail any more. And a bamboo tree that will look stunning in the living room and a bench for the seating we need in the mudroom.”

  He grunted and lowered his eyes back to the paper. “Need help bringing anything in?”

  “Thanks, Jay. Just the tree and bench.” She poured herself some coffee, wanting to share what weighed uppermost on her mind: the scary encounters with Wrestler! But she hesitated. This would worry him and maybe further dampen his marginal enthusiasm for her garage sale hobby. She valued his love and protectiveness, but why alarm him with information that might elicit strong objections or even challenge her cherished independence?

  And in the unlikely event she ever saw Wrestler again, she’d really avoid him this time! Since most garage sale buyers had specific goals, such as replacing a lamp or a chair, they shopped no more after achieving their objective. Regulars like her were the exception, not the rule.

  Jennifer’s own garage sale experience began as a practical shopping choice when her children were young and the new-house budget tight. Later, this habit blossomed into genuine treasure-hunting because people sell what people have. Wealthy McLean and surrounds offered excellent “gently used” merchandise and finding quality bargains is ever popular, as perpetual sales at retail stores and car lots prove. She’d found many unusual and useful items to benefit her home, her life-style and her family; and the sale “stories” intrigued her.

  She knew long established markets existed for “used” houses with several previous owners, for “pre-owned cars” and for antique shops where merchandise is necessarily second-hand. Garage and estate sales were the same idea. Since Wrestler had likely completed his shopping, little probability existed for their paths to cross again. Regulars like Jennifer looked for fun, adventure, practical finds and unique treasures...not trouble.

  So unlike what was actually on her mind, she asked her husband, “Find any interesting news in the morning paper? I only grabbed the classified section earlier to locate the sales.”

  “Ways to solve Old Dominion Drive traffic congestion,” he droned, “a new store at Tysons Corner; critique of a new local restaurant, a burglary in Great Falls and another in Woodlea Hills... ”

  “Woodlea Hills! That’s just down the road. We’d better lock our doors religiously. I must be sure to alert the girls about that. Anything else?”

  “Another McLean woman is missing.”

  Jennifer looked up sharply. “Don’t I remember headlines about a teenager disappearing a month ago? What ever happened with that case?”

  “Don’t think she turned up—maybe a runaway? Who knows better than we do what parents face raising kids these days.”

  “Hey, I didn’t know you had five in mind when we married!” she needled.

  He stifled a smile. “If I’d known about the five I might not have proposed.” Seeing her raised eyebrow, he conceded, “Well, maybe... ” He winked and she strolled over to kiss his cheek.

  “Okay, break it up, you two!” Daughter Becca strolled into the kitchen dressed for her upcoming appointment. “Coffee seriously needed!”

  Jennifer gestured toward the coffee pot. “Ready and waiting for you. Good morning, Sweetie! Not quite awake yet?”

  “Barely! Thanks for coming back early, Mom. Any garage sale goodies for show-and-tell?”

  “Well, funny you should ask! Hold onto your hat!” Jennifer smiled and bustled away to her car in the garage.

  Jason groaned. “Oh no! When she says ‘hold-on-to-your-hat,’ years of experience tell me I’m in for a fast ride. I fear that phrase! What wild and crazy thing did she find this time?”

  Becca laughed. “Dad, how can she still shock you after more than forty years together?”

  “Shock hardly covers it! Life with your mom isn’t boring, but that phrase always means steeling myself for a major jolt!”

  “While she’s still out in the garage, Dad, does she suspect anything about tomorrow?”

  “No, I think we’re really going to surprise her!”

  Moments later, Jennifer reappeared and placed the bulky newspaper-wrapped bundle housing the tureen on the kitchen counter. She’d sneak the other Blue Danube pieces into the china cabinet later, confident Jason wouldn’t notice those additions once ensconced.

  As she pulled away the wrapping, Jason sat bolt upright, his eyes on the tureen and his voice rising an octave. “Oh geez, I’m afraid to ask the cost of that glorified soup bowl.”

  Anticipating his bluster, Jennifer purred, “Look, today is the last day ever that I’m fifty-nine years old. Tomorrow is the big six-oh! Isn’t this the ideal birthday present for me, Jason?”

  Now he pushed back from the table, cast long-suffering eyes toward the ceiling and whistled a loud note. “The price must be a whopper because you just pulled out the big cannons.”

  She chuckled and lightly kissed his forehead. “Thank you, honey; it’s exactly what I wanted most.” She smiled so happily and Jason moaned in such painful mock distress that they all had to laugh.

  As Jennifer handed her the car keys, Becca giggled and pointed to the new tureen. “Bet I can guess what we’re having for lunch.”

  “You’re exactly right!” her mother confirmed, “…and sandwiches, too!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Jason grinned at how willingly their grown children embraced his surprise party idea for Jennifer’s 60th birthday. The Blue Danube tureen aside, he thought a party at home with her loved ones gathered was the perfect gift for his dear wife, who doted on her family.

  All their married children lived within a two hours’ drive, remarkable in today’s mobile society. Hannah, Becca and their close friend Tina MacKenzie had whisked Jennifer away to morning garage sales on the pretext of furnishing the college apartment the girls would share in the fall. They pledged to return her at noon, their arrival signaling the birthday feast to begin. Meantime, the “fam,” with their spouses and the
Grands, began arriving at the house late-morning, bringing covered dishes for the event.

  Brown-haired Tina MacKenzie visited the Shannon girls so often—for meals, overnights, video-watching, studying and celebrations—that her presence seemed as normal as if she were just another child of their family. Quiet and friendly but more serious and reserved than the Shannon girls, Tina recently always wore the same unusual gold filigree dangling earrings.

  As with many of Jennifer’s astute observations, Jason hadn’t noticed this until his wife pointed it out. “Her dad brought the earrings to her from his last trip to China. When he had the heart attack and died only a week after returning, Tina began wearing them constantly in his memory. Her dad’s death hit her very hard and widowhood’s tough for her mother to shoulder, too.” Then, with eyes full of tears, Jen said to him, “I can’t even imagine life without you, Jay!”

  Gently pushing that memory aside, Jason basted more sauce onto chicken marinating in two big pans, about to take them outside when he heard, “Here, Dad, let me help with that.” His twenty-eight-year-old son Mike offered as they each carried a large pan out to the patio grill.

  “And where’s Bethany?”

  “My wife is picking up the cake and should return any minute now.” Kaela swept past them, jostling scissors and an armful of fresh-cut flowers from the garden. “Dad, do you know where Mom’s vases are?”

  “In the laundry room cupboards. Here, I’ll show you,” Jason said. “Be back in a minute, Mike.”

  After producing the vase, Jason closed the laundry room door on the noisy crowd for a quiet moment, grateful that his children seemed grounded and happy, except perhaps for Hannah.

  Five months ago Hannah discovered the boy she dated exclusively through six years of high school and early college had multiple other love affairs going during that same time. At a party she attended with college girlfriends, a stunned Hannah stumbled upon Kevin kissing his newest “squeeze.”

  As Hannah’s beau, Kevin had been welcomed into their home for years. His deception startled them all, but the betrayal broke Hannah’s heart. She closed herself in her room for days. When the crying finally stopped, she emerged haggard, depressed and disillusioned.