Death to the Highest Bidder: A Jill Andrews Cozy Mystery #2

by Nicole Ellis

  Death To The Highest Bidder

  Nicole Ellis

  Contents

  Death to the Highest Bidder

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  From the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Death to the Highest Bidder

  By Nicole Ellis

  Copyright © 2018 by Nicole Ellis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For the Erickson family.

  Without your boathouse, there wouldn’t have been a Jill Andrews series. Thank you for the inspiration and a lifetime of happy memories spent with all of you at the beach.

  1

  “Jill, did you hear what I said?” Nancy Davenport’s eyes drilled into me as she paced the floor of the main room at my in-laws’ business, the Boathouse Event Center.

  I looked up from the notepad that I’d been furiously scribbling on. “Yes, I heard you.” I turned the paper around to show her. “See?”

  I almost felt like sticking out my tongue at her. Something about her made me want to act like my three-year-old son, Mikey. If Nancy wasn’t so entrenched as a volunteer at the Busy Bees Preschool, I’d never have taken this much guff from her, but I didn’t want there to be any ill effects on Mikey.

  She waved her hand at me. “I can’t make out any of your chicken scratch on there. Please make sure the coverings on the round tables are red and the tablecloths on the buffet table are blue. An Americana look will be perfect for the auction’s aviation theme.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Of course. We can definitely do that.” I’d already changed the tablecloth colors five times, according to her whim of the week. We’d gone through an elegant silver and black, a stately navy and white, and several other color combinations. The preschool auction was only ten days away, and I hoped she’d make a final decision soon. Our linen supplier was forgiving, but soon we’d need to lock in our choices.

  “And did we talk about the arrangement for the stage? There needs to be room for some of the larger auction items and a podium for the auctioneer.”

  “Yes, of course.” I jotted down her request, mainly for her benefit as I’d already heard it several times and made a note in my computer files.

  After thirty more minutes of demands, Nancy finally left and I settled down at my desk to work.

  After checking and double-checking that every detail of the auction was on track, I rubbed my eyes and closed the lid on my laptop. Who’d have thought organizing a preschool auction would take so much time? My sister-in-law Desi had warned me. I should have listened to her. Then again, it might not have been too bad if Nancy Davenport hadn’t been involved.

  “Jill?” My mother-in-law, Beth, poked her head into my windowless office.

  I looked up. “Hey.” I rubbed my eyes again, trying to make there only be one of her in my line of sight. If I didn’t get out of there soon, I would be a walking zombie.

  “You’re still here? I thought you went home hours ago. I came in to close up shop for the night.” She leaned against the door frame, scrutinizing me. “You look awful. Is everything going ok with the auction?”

  “Thanks, Beth.” I attempted to mock-glare at her, but even that took too much energy for me to pull off. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just have a lot to do, and Nancy keeps changing her mind about what she wants.”

  “Well, we’re letting them have the auction here for a substantial discount. Tell her she’s getting what she’s getting. If she’s not happy with that, she can go somewhere else next year.”

  “I know. She’s driving me nuts though.” I’d been caught daydreaming at an auction committee meeting and, to avoid admitting my lapse in attention, I’d volunteered to host the auction at the Boathouse, an offer I’d soon regretted.

  The preschool was lucky to have the venue though. The Boathouse, located in the beautiful small town of Ericksville, just north of Seattle, was the premier event center in the area. The price they were paying for their Friday night event at a waterfront venue would barely cover a party room for a night at the local Elks Lodge.

  I looked at my watch. Almost nine. Without the aid of natural light streaming through a window, time had flown by without me realizing it. I shoved my cell phone and planning notebook into my purse. Anything left on the to-do list could wait until the next day.

  “I didn’t realize how late it is. Adam is with the kids, but he’s probably wondering where I am.” I pulled my phone back out of my purse and checked it. Sure enough, two text messages showed up from my husband, asking if I was ok. I fired off a text letting him know I’d be home soon. The text notification beeps hadn’t managed to break through my concentration. The auction couldn’t come any too soon. I’d been working on it for a very long month already, and I was ready to be done with it.

  Beth smiled at me. “It’s good for him to have time with the kids.” She cocked her head to the side. “Has he said anything else about quitting his job lately?”

  Four weeks ago, Adam had announced to me that he planned to quit his job at the Seattle law firm he’d worked at for the last eight years and go into business on his own. I’d been apprehensive about his plan, but hopeful too, because the travel his job required took him away from me and the kids for a couple of weeks out of every month. It hadn’t seemed so bad when our son had been born almost four years ago, but after the birth of our daughter seven months ago, I had started to feel overwhelmed with taking care of everything at home by myself.

  I stood, grabbing my cell phone off the desk. “No, he’s been gone for most of the last few weeks. I need to talk to him and find out what’s going on.”

  “Ok, let me know when you hear something from him. Adam’s always been so tight-lipped about everything, ever since he was a little boy.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I worry he keeps too much inside.”

  I walked toward the door, and she moved to allow me to pass. “I’ll try to talk to him tonight.” I gave her arm a quick squeeze. “I’m going to sit for a few minutes on the deck and can lock up when I’m done. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

  She nodded, but the concern didn’t fade from her face.

  I’d been ensconced in the Boathouse’s office for the last few hours. When I’d last stepped out to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, the sun had still been shining down on Puget Sound. Now, it had started to set over Willowby Island across the water, tinting the sky with a beautiful orange-and-pink glow. This was one of my favorite parts of summer, the breathtaking sunsets.

  I pushed open the door to the outer deck and sat on one of the wooden benches to take in the view. The boats on the water had turned their nighttime running lights on, and the windows on the ferry formed a pretty yellow checkerboard. A breeze blew my hair back, and I lifted my head to take a deep breath through my
nostrils. The combination of the rhythmic waves and salt-tinged air never failed to calm me.

  I’d recently allowed Beth to talk me into working at the Boathouse as an event planner and marketer because she’d said she wanted to cut back on her workload. I’d known going back to work would be a challenge, but I hadn’t expected such long hours right off the bat. Only ten days until the auction. Then it would be back to part-time hours for me at the Boathouse.

  My phone vibrated. Adam again.

  Are you coming home soon?

  Yes, now.

  I shoved the phone into my pocket and went back into the Boathouse. I knew Adam was worried, but part of me was irked that it had only been twenty minutes since I’d texted him back and now he was messaging me again. Maybe now he’d understand how I felt when he stayed late at work and didn’t call.

  I retrieved my purse, then locked the front door and exited to the parking lot. Beth’s car was gone, and with the exception of a few people taking a late evening stroll along the sidewalk, the parking lot and surrounding areas were empty. I didn’t usually stay this late, and the stillness made me uneasy. My feet crunched on some loose gravel in the parking lot, accentuating the quiet and sending chills down my spine. I was suddenly glad that Adam knew my exact whereabouts.

  Chiding myself for being silly, I hurried to my minivan and locked the doors before driving the mile or so up the hill to our house.

  Adam must have heard the garage door open because, as soon as I pulled into the garage, he opened the door from the house. Our golden retriever, Goldie, poked his head around Adam’s legs, pushing past him to get to me. I closed my car door and rubbed the dog’s head. He loyally followed me toward the house.

  “Hey,” Adam said, stepping back from the door. “I was wondering where you were.”

  “Trying to slog through the auction stuff, in addition to my regular work at the Boathouse.”

  “Ah, the auction again. You know, you could always tell Nancy you didn’t want to work on it anymore. My mom could probably finish up the prep at the Boathouse, and I’m sure another parent could help out.”

  I recoiled and stared at him in horror. “You realize if I did that, I’d never hear the end of it, right? Mikey would be shunned at the school.”

  He raised his eyebrows and laughed. “That bad?”

  “Ok, ok, maybe not quite that bad. Seriously, though, Nancy isn’t the forgiving type.” Nancy had been the lead parent volunteer at my three-year-old’s preschool since her oldest child went there, ten years prior. Her youngest child, an immensely spoiled little girl, was in Mikey’s class. Her seniority had led to an inflated sense of ownership over the school. Desi and I not so affectionately referred to Nancy and her cronies as the Queen Bees.

  I entered the hallway and dumped my purse on a side table. My keys fell out, clattering noisily as they hit the top of the highly polished wood. Pictures of the kids at various stages in their lives hung on the light blue walls near the garage door, ushering me home to family life.

  “Have you had dinner yet?” Adam asked.

  I halted and sniffed the air. There was the faint smell of something delicious, but I couldn’t make out what it was. “I don’t think so?” Coffee and muffins didn’t count as dinner, right?

  “Well, I made my specialty, chili mac. It’s in the fridge. The kids went to bed a few hours ago.”

  “Dinner sounds good.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled the pot out of the refrigerator, setting it on the counter. I grabbed a clean plate out of the dishwasher, piled a mound of chili macaroni and cheese on it, and popped it into the microwave. My eyes roved over the room. Dishes overflowed the confines of the sink, and it looked like Ella and Mikey had thrown food onto the dining room floor. I frowned.

  Adam caught me staring at the floor and quickly said, “I’ll clean it up. Goldie must have missed a few spots when he gobbled up all of the food the kids dropped at dinner. Sorry, honey, I got the kids in bed, and then something came up at work that I had to take care of. I completely forgot about cleaning the kitchen when I finished.”

  I poured myself a glass of Chardonnay and sat on a barstool with my food in front of me on the bar-height counter. “It’s ok. I’ll try to get the sink cleaned out tomorrow.” I tasted the cheese and chili concoction. Not bad. It beat the peanut butter sandwich I’d planned to slap together for dinner.

  Adam grabbed a paper towel and ran water over it from the sink. “I’ll try to help out more when I’m home too.” He scrubbed at the hardwood floor until it was free of the yellow and brown food smears.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem.” He grinned at me.

  I rubbed my fingers along the smooth edge of one of the stainless steel forks we’d received as a wedding gift. “You leave tomorrow for Dallas, right?”

  He put the used paper towel in the garbage and then turned back to me. “I do. And then I leave a few days later for Atlanta.” He sighed. “I’m getting a little tired of this travel. I’d love to be home with you and the kids more often.”

  This seemed like the right time to bring up his upcoming career change.

  “Hey, your mom was asking me when you were going to quit your job.” I peered into his eyes. “Have you thought more about it?”

  He looked down, suddenly fascinated by his leather shoes. “I’ve got this project at work that’s been dragging on. I owe it to the firm to finish it before I leave. And I still need to find office space in Ericksville and get a business license and do a whole bunch of other things before I can make the jump.”

  My heart sank. It didn’t sound like I’d have a full-time second parent for a long time. When Adam encountered stumbling blocks in a project, they often stalled him for a while. I took a deep breath. “Well, let me know if you need any help with the administrative issues. I’d be happy to help.” I swigged the last bit of wine and pushed the glass away from my plate. “If you’d like, I can call Brenda and see if she could show you some potential office spaces to lease.” My friend Brenda was a real estate agent in the area, and I knew she’d be happy to help Adam with his office hunt.

  He nodded to show he’d heard me, but said nothing.

  I stopped with the fork midway from the plate to my mouth and then set it down, pointing to the sink. “Is this going to work?”

  “Is what going to work? You working at the Boathouse?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  He came over to the other side of the counter and massaged my shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll figure everything out.”

  He sat down next to me, and I turned to face him. “Sometimes I don’t think I can handle everything. Your mom has been giving me events to manage, and I’ve never done this before. I feel like I’m going to mess up.” I sighed. “I know once the auction is over, it won’t be so bad, but right now I’m up to my eyeballs in stress.”

  “You are one of the strongest women I know. I think you may have bitten off more than you want to chew right now, but I know you can do it.” He brushed a strand of hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

  Impulsively, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thanks. I needed the pep talk.”

  “No problem.” He winked at me. “Anytime. By the way, your mom called me today. She said she’d called you a few times last week, but you never called back.”

  Rats. I knew I’d forgotten something.

  “I meant to call her back but got wrapped up in work stuff. Did she sound mad?”

  He shrugged. “No, just concerned.”

  “It’s too late to call her back now, but I’ll try to remember tomorrow.”

  I finished my food and set the plate in the sink on top of all the others. The pots and pans underneath it shifted and creaked ominously. If the stack of dirty dishes made it to the next day without something breaking, it would be a miracle. They needed to be washed, but if I tried to tackle the job while this fatigued, I’d probably break more than if I left t
hem there.

  “I’m going to bed now.” I yawned. “Is this what it’s like to get old?”

  “You’re thirty-four, not eighty-four.” He leaned against the counter.

  I yawned again. “Sometimes I feel close to ninety. Maybe it’s time I started exercising and eating better.” I thought back to the muffin I’d had that day, and the treats Desi made in the Boathouse kitchen for her café. “On second thought, maybe I’ll work on just the exercising part first.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You? Exercise? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Hey, don’t you remember that one time back in college when I ran in a 5k?”

  He choked on a sudden eruption of laughter. “You mean the 5k inflatable race where you walked and jogged to one inflatable slide after another? Yeah. That was hardcore.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. “Remember, I was with you. I know you only did it for the chance to jump in a bouncy house like a little kid.”

  I had to laugh. He was right; that had been my primary motive. I’d never be an athlete, but walking for thirty minutes a day was totally doable. I’d add that to my “after auction to-do” list, which was starting to look almost as intimidating as the “before auction to-do” list.

  Adam put his hands on my shoulders to turn me around and pushed me gently toward the stairs. “Now, it’s bedtime for you.”

  I gave in and climbed the stairs. Holding on to the railing, I stopped mid-flight. “Are you coming to bed too?”

  “I’ll be up soon. I need to take care of something first.”