Altered to Death

by Christina Freeburn

  “I know. Okay. Give me the address, and I’ll head over.”

  A knot formed in my stomach. I wasn’t looking forward to this. Being married to Ted I was excited about, but house hunting was giving me an ulcer. I pulled onto the main road and drove toward the cute three-bedroom. I hope it was priced to sell because the owners were moving out of Eden for a new job and not because it was falling apart, like the last bargain.

  While the house Gussie wanted to show wasn’t directly off the main road, there was only a tiny section of grass and a throughway that separated it from the traffic. Easy access to the main road was good for Ted. If he got called in, it was usually for an emergency.

  There was just enough space for me to park next to Gussie’s car. There was no garage. While I’ve managed fine all these years without a garage, it had been on my wish list of items. If we were buying a new home, might as well find one with a garage. It would be great not to have to scrape ice off the windshield or get soaked carrying in groceries during a sudden downpour.

  I got out and heard the cars from the main road. The front yard was a nice size with a mature tree and window boxes. Next door, a dog barked. I couldn’t see through the slats of the fence if the dog was usually outside or had been let out for a moment. Ted’s job had him leaving and coming at all hours, and an outside dog might be alerting the neighborhood to Ted’s schedule.

  I wiped my feet on the doormat then walked into the house. “Gussie, I’m here.”

  “Come look at this kitchen. It’s lovely.”

  I glanced at the living and dining rooms. Two separate areas that were a nice size. If we took out the wall separating it, the space wouldn’t feel so enclosed. The hardwood floors needed refinishing. I knew Ted had done his floors so that wouldn’t be a big expense.

  I stepped into the kitchen. “Do the people next door keep their dog outside?”

  Gussie shrugged.

  It was an amazing kitchen. The windows were large and sunlight streamed in. The appliances were stainless steel, and while the countertop space was limited, it was a beautiful white and silver veined granite. The cabinets were white and the floor was made of a cork material.

  The only drawback of the kitchen was the sound of the dog still barking. I wondered if it carried into every room of the house. Ted had erratic hours and needed a quiet neighborhood. Between the traffic and the dog, he wouldn’t be able to sleep during the day.

  “Wait until you see the bedroom. The master bathroom was recently updated.”

  Dragging my feet, I followed Gussie. I wasn’t in the house hunting mood, but I hated to dampen her enthusiasm. She was excited about her new job, and I knew there was some heartache for her around the corner if Wyatt’s beliefs about the body were right: either it was his father or his father was responsible for it.

  “Are you able to check records to see who the prior owners are on a property?” I asked.

  “I can double check to make sure the title is clear on this house before you make an offer.” Gussie opened a door. “Here’s the master suite. Plenty of space and nice lighting. The bathroom is kind of small and there’s only one sink, but the tub and shower have been updated.”

  “Not this house. Scrap This. I’ve heard some things.” I stepped inside. The carpets looked nice and were a nice neutral shade. There wasn’t anything wrong with the room. There also wasn’t anything spectacular about it.

  “What things have you heard?”

  “The shopping complex was built on Everton land. The city had used adverse possession to attain it and now someone is claiming to be an Everton heir. What would happen if one of the people saying this wins a lawsuit? Steve was able to get a court order to shut down the renovations.”

  Gussie’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean one of?”

  I trusted Gussie with my life so I’d trust with her the truth. Or this portion of it. I’d hold back on what Wyatt found as it was his to tell. His dad’s jacket didn’t change the fact that two people were claiming to be an Everton. “Steve’s client and Georgia.”

  “Georgia?”

  “She told me Edward found a diary that made him think Georgia was an Everton.”

  “That would certainly shake up some people in this town. There are still a few who believe family names are more important than a person’s character.” There was a twinge of bitterness in Gussie’s voice.

  “There will always be those types in the world. Most people in this town respect you and your boys. Even though Wayne and Wyatt like to dabble in misdemeanors now and then.”

  “At least they finally seem to be outgrowing it,” Gussie said. “It’s been a year since I’ve received a call to pick them up from the police station.”

  If they didn’t stop making prank calls to their cousin, she might have to pick them up from the hospital with a couple of broken bones.

  “I’m a little worried about what would happen if there’s a battle between the mystery heir, Georgia, and the city over former Everton property,” I said.

  “If the city wins, everything stays the same,” Gussie said. “I’m not worried about Georgia but her sons. Especially Hank. That boy would love to stick it to the city since their refusal to accept his bid for the Everton renovation meant he couldn’t restart his family business. I’ll see what I can find out about the land the shopping complex is on. If your grandmothers are forced to move the store, my boys will give up some space in one of their buildings until they can find the perfect place for Scrap This. And speaking of perfect...” She motioned around the bedroom.

  With Gussie beaming at me, it was hard to tell her the truth. “This isn’t the home for us.”

  “Are you sure?” She worked on keeping her smile in place. “You haven’t seen the main bathroom, and there is an unfinished basement. It would be perfect to turn into a man cave or a craft room.”

  “I’m sure. It’s too noisy. There’s a lot of traffic.” I stopped myself from rattling off any more reasons. The simple fact was the house wasn’t calling to me. It didn’t make me smile the moment I walked inside. I couldn’t picture me and Ted living here, and nothing would change that.

  Part of me feared I’d always feel that way. I loved my home. My mom and dad’s home. The home that had been our family for two short months before they died in an accident. I blinked away tears.

  Gussie linked her arm through mine. “If you don’t love it, you don’t love it. The perfect one for you and Ted is out there. I promise.”

  “I’m starting to doubt it.”

  “It’ll show itself to you.”

  It better hurry up.

  The Pancake Storage building was housed in a converted warehouse perched at the top of a hill where a medical services plaza was located. The gray and white building had an olive-colored steel shingle roof. The warehouse was the center point of the area with everything else branching out from it. Most of the units were inside the building with a few larger rental spaces on the back side away from the entrance.

  I drove up the hill, grateful the forecasted snow held off. It wasn’t as steep of an incline as the one where the Everton mansion was settled, but even a half inch of snow made it hard to get up.

  There were ten visitor spots, and I pulled into the only vacant one. Ugh. People were already here for the auction. At least with a lot of others milling about, I could look at the unit and see if there were any clues about who’d owned it without drawing attention to myself. I exited my car, locking the door and tugging on the handle to double check before heading for the entrance while giving myself a pep talk.

  There were multiple entrance points as the building had once been used as a warehouse. I found myself playing a very aggravated game of what’s behind door one, two, three, four, and five with the answer being nothing since they didn’t open. I finally found a pebbled path that led me to a maroon door with the hours posted on it an
d a sign stating the auction began in five minutes.

  I stepped inside. There was a foyer with a counter stretching across half the length of the area. Behind the counter, there was a frosted glass panel and a double set of doors. On top of the counter was a sign-in sheet, a list of the units up for auction, and a sheet of the rules. I picked up a unit list and scanned it. My heart thudded. Unit twenty-five was up for auction today. Cash only. I whipped out my wallet and tallied the cash. Eighty-five dollars and nineteen cents. How much did lockers go for? Scrap it all. I didn’t have enough time to go to an ATM and get more money, and I sure wasn’t going to ask Ted to bring me any.

  Gussie was likely still close by. Maybe she’d loan me some cash for a couple of hours. I sent her a quick text.

  One of the doors opened and Karen stepped into the foyer. She walked over to me, forcing a smile on her face. “Are you or Ted looking to store some stuff? My grandmother has some spaces available for rent but none of the larger ones. One might be available tomorrow. One of the larger units is being auctioned off today.”

  “I’m here for the auction.” I held up the sheet of paper. “Your grandma hinted there was a unit going up that might have some cool memorabilia stuff in it for the scrapbook project I’m working on for the town.”

  Karen rolled her eyes. “I don’t need, or care, for your life story. If you raise your hand it’s a bid, nod your head it’s a bid, speak it’s a bid.”

  “So you’re saying I shouldn’t move or talk unless I want to buy a storage unit.”

  She smiled at me. “Exactly.” Karen opened a drawer in the counter and pulled out a clipboard and a bolt cutter. “It’s time for the show.”

  “I didn’t know you were an auctioneer.”

  “I’m not.” Karen practically snarled. “The man who usually does it has laryngitis. My grandmother asked me to do it so I said yes.” Her tone softened when she mentioned her grandmother.

  “I figured you’d be busy with everything going on in town. Or don’t you know what’s happened this morning?”

  Karen paused with her hand on the doorknob. “So you’re not just here for the auction? You wanted to find out what I know about the Everton mansion.”

  “Actually, I wanted to see if you knew why Steve was no longer working for the county. That will be big news in Eden.”

  Karen placed the clipboard onto the counter and leaned the box cutter against it. “Why am I not surprised that even though you’re engaged to Detective Roget you’re still interested in what Steve Davis is doing? You and Ted bickering so you went to cry on Steve’s shoulder and discovered he no longer works at the courthouse? The man can change jobs without running it past you first.”

  I stomped down my building anger. Now wasn’t the time. I wanted answers not a catfight. “He can do whatever he wants. It’s just weird that when he worked for the county, he said all was good with doing renovations on the house, and now he says everyone is trespassing on an undisclosed client’s property.”

  Karen was good, really good, at keeping her emotions under control when it came to a story. Not a flicker of surprise on her face. “That is interesting.”

  “You hadn’t heard about any of this?” As I asked, my stomach flopped, especially since Karen’s face was devoid of any type of reaction.

  Either she knew, or didn’t want me to know that she knew. There was a story in this mess and Karen was already on to it. Maybe the city had hired Steve, who was now a private attorney, to get the house back from the historical society. Now that the work was almost done, and the historical society had paid for the renovations, Eden’s city council decided to take it back. I made a mental note to ask Wyatt how the renovation costs were being handled.

  Karen’s cell phone buzzed. She took it from her pocket and stared at it. Sighing, she shoved it back in her pocket. “The bidders are getting antsy. I have a day job that needs my attention, no more dawdling so you can play detective.”

  I followed her through the set of doors. There was a large open bay area split in half by a carpet runner going down half the length of the room. I estimated it was about eight thousand square feet. It went on and on. The side walls were storage lockers ranging from eight-feet-tall high school style lockers to metal spaces that were eight feet by eight feet.

  Voices came from the end of the long hallway, grumbling about the delay in the start of the auction.

  “The first locker up for bid is number fifteen.” Karen cut the lock off the unit with the bolt cutters. She lifted the door then grabbed a small chain and yanked it. A light bulb turned on. “Remember, you can look from the outside, but you can’t step inside the unit. There are some boxes in here, a recliner, and other odds and ends.”

  Since I wasn’t interested in that unit, I checked my phone. No response from Gussie. I hoped everyone spent their money before we reached the locker I wanted.

  The locker went for fifty dollars, and we moved on to the next. My cash might just be enough. My spirits brightened. The next lockers were small units and nearly empty. No one bid on them so Karen closed them back up. Number twenty-three was filled to the rafters with boxes marked clothes and household supply. A guy snapped it up by starting the bidding at sixty dollars. No one else upped it. Good. Sixty seemed to be the limit for everyone else. Number twenty-five was the next unit. Eight-five was my magic number.

  “The next unit up for sale is number twenty-five.” Karen cut the lock off and shoved the steel door up. She moved a pile of smocked style hippie shirts with the toe of her boot. She leaned forward and flipped on a light switch. There was a faint hum as the light flickered on. “We have a hodge-podge of items here, but no furniture or big ticket items that I can see.”

  I stepped forward as did the other man who bid on a few of the other lockers. My stomach tightened. I was going up against a professional bidder. The man had dark brown hair that was stylishly long. He wore sunglasses even though we were indoors. Poker face. He didn’t want anyone to see his reaction to the items. I bet he had a resale shop considering he had bought a few other lockers. Hopefully, his cash supply dwindled enough so I could win this one.

  Boxes were tipped over in the unit, spilling out clothes and towels, a guitar was resting on its side, comic books littered the floor, and a broken wooden box was lying upside on the floor, a large crack on the bottom. The top had detached from the box and was lying a foot away. In the corner was a tub with photographs. The unit looked ransacked.

  “Looks like we’re interested in the same locker.” The man smiled at me.

  “You’ve bought quite a few today.”

  “My brother is opening up a thrift store and asked me to bid on a few units for him while he’s otherwise engaged.” He leaned toward me, and held up his phone. The pine scent of his aftershave drifted to me. “Don’t tell, but I just sent a picture to him. This one is perfect. The jewelry would go for about twenty-five dollars and the clothes for about twenty. He likes the fact they’re small items.”

  Flickers of anger arced through me. I was feeling possessive over the items inside, and I hadn’t won it yet. “This one is perfect for me also.”

  “Have a store also?”

  I shook my head. “Preserving history.”

  Karen started the bidding at hundred dollars. I couldn’t go that high. “No takers. This unit has some nice items in it. How about fifty? Anyone at fifty?”

  “Me,” I said.

  “I have a bid for fifty.”

  “Fifty-five,” the man beside me said.

  “Sixty anyone?” Karen scanned the whole crowd. I nodded when her gaze rested on me. “We have sixty.”

  “Sixty-five,” the man countered turning his head in my direction. I saw myself in the reflection of his sunglasses. I looked determined and worried.

  I edged away from him. Karen glanced over at me. I barely nodded.

  “We have seve
nty.”

  Someone sneezed. Karen pointed at them. “Now we’re up to seventy-five.”

  Karen wasn’t joking. She meant any movement or sound. I could go up ten more dollars.

  I nodded.

  “We’re at eighty,” Karen said.

  “One hundred dollars.” The man waved a bill in the air.

  My shoulder slumped forward. I was out of the running.

  “I have a hundred and ten over here.” Karen pointed at me.

  Oh no. I moved.

  “One twenty,” he countered, face reddening.

  “One thirty,” Karen fired back.

  Keeping my body still, I glanced around trying to find the new bidder. A tall man slipped back into the shadows, but not before I saw his scarred face. Was it Graves? I’d never known him to leave the hunter’s shack. Of course, he had to unless the man grew and raised all his own food.

  “One forty,” my original competition said.

  “The bid is one fifty. Going once. Twice. Sold.” She ended the auction in a quick succession of words, leaving everyone stunned at the rapid pace. No one had an opportunity to counter. “Please go up front to settle your bill.” She grinned at me. “Go on, Faith.”

  I won it? At one hundred and fifty dollars? I hadn’t moved. Had I? Gussie never returned my text. I was in trouble.

  Karen closed the unit’s door. She headed for the main counter. I tagged behind the rest of the group. Karen held the door open for everyone to exit the storage unit area. The other bidders quickly paid and went on their way. The proxy bidder for his brother hung around.

  “Faith, your turn.” Karen held her hand out.

  My hands shook. This was embarrassing. I didn’t want to say I didn’t have the money and look a fool.

  “Fold the bills in half,” Karen whispered in my ear.

  I complied with the instruction.

  Karen counted the money. “One hundred fifty dollars.”

  The man left.

  “I can pay you the difference—”

  Karen cut me off. “I know you weren’t bidding, Faith. But I couldn’t just sell you the unit, so I said you bid. You don’t owe any more.”