Mobbed

by Carol Higgins Clark

  “Of course,” Edna answered happily. “Are you interested in bedroom furniture?”

  “My husband and I renovated a loft after we were married last year. We still need odds and ends.”

  Nora started to say something then stopped herself. She realized her daughter would want to snoop around.

  “We’ll be in the kitchen,” Edna said. “Go right up the steps.”

  “Thank you.” Regan turned and went back to the vestibule. This is a beautiful home, she thought as she grabbed the banister and ascended the sweeping staircase. On her right was a collection of beach watercolors, all with price tags. The prices seemed reasonable.

  A young girl was standing in the upstairs hallway. She looked about sixteen. “Hello,” she said sweetly. “My name is Autumn.”

  “Hi, my name is Regan Reilly. My mother is a friend of Mrs. Frawley’s daughter. I just thought I’d look around for a second.”

  “Sure. There are four bedrooms up here but one is off limits. The door is closed.”

  “Mrs. Frawley has lovely things,” Regan said, making conversation.

  “She does.”

  “I met Dawn downstairs. This is the first time she’s worked at one of these sales. How about you?”

  “My first, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. We’re all new. Jillian and Jody do sales all over New Jersey. So they hire different kids for each sale.”

  “Makes sense,” Regan answered. “Jody and Jillian are nice.” Autumn smiled. “Totally.”

  I don’t think I’ll get much more from her without looking like I’m fishing, Regan thought. “Which is the master bedroom?”

  “The first door on the right.”

  When Regan stepped inside Edna’s room and saw the unobstructed view of the ocean, she realized that this was the best room in the house. The bedroom was peaceful, decorated in peach tones. A flat-screen television hung on the wall.

  Regan walked over to the window and looked out. She saw one of the security guards opening the gate. The first few people in line raced up the walk toward the house. It reminded Regan of the running of the bulls.

  Turning away from the window, Regan surveyed the room, then walked over to a steamer trunk that was sitting at the foot of the bed. It was for sale. She leaned down to take a closer look.

  “That belonged to Cleo.”

  Regan looked up. Autumn was standing in the doorway.

  “It’s really nice. I’m surprised Cleo didn’t take it with her.”

  Autumn shrugged.

  “I thought Mrs. Frawley had all of Cleo’s things together downstairs.”

  “She couldn’t decide whether to sell the trunk until the last minute. Jody and Jillian said she might as well keep it up here since it looks good next to the bed.”

  Regan looked at the price tag. One hundred dollars. That’s pretty good, she thought. “Autumn, I’d like to take this.”

  “Sure.” Autumn walked over, and with a red pen wrote “SOLD” on the tag.

  “Looks like you’re going to be pretty busy with all the people still on line.”

  “Super-busy!”

  A woman came darting into the room. “Look at that view!” she said. “It’s fabulous! Oh, and that trunk! I just love it!”

  “It’s sold,” Autumn informed her.

  “Already? I was the third person on line.”

  “Oh, well, if you really …,” Regan began.

  “Regan, it’s yours,” Autumn said. “Your mother’s a friend of Mrs. Frawley.”

  “But I—,” Regan began.

  The other woman waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t even be here. My husband would have a conniption if he found out I’m at another garage sale.” She disappeared out of the room.

  23

  Ready, Miss Long?” Dirk bellowed as he came out of the office. He’d changed into a pair of cargo swim trunks, T-shirt, and flip-flops. Like Cleo he was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Two beach towels were under his arm.

  Cleo jumped. She’d been staring into the distance, lost in her thoughts. “Yes,” she answered. “By the way, you don’t have to be so formal. Please call me Connie.”

  “Okay, Connie. Let’s go.”

  Still flustered, Cleo blurted, “You have a little blob of suntan lotion on your cheek,” she said, pointing with her finger.

  “Oh. Nice,” Dirk answered, obviously amused. He rubbed both sides of his face with his large, tanned hand. “How’s that? Do I look presentable now?”

  “Yes. Yes, you do,” Cleo answered. Why did I tell him that? she wondered. I don’t even know the guy. I’m so jumpy.

  Silently they walked across the parking lot toward an opening in the woods. I wish I’d brought a bottle of water with me, Cleo thought. I’m so thirsty. I didn’t even take one sip after my jog. For a couple seconds she debated internally whether to ask Dirk if they could go back to the office, then decided not to. Not after pointing out the lotion on his face. He didn’t seem offended, but I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t want to bother him about something else.

  For three or four minutes Cleo followed Dirk down a dirt trail completely shaded by overhanging trees. Just like the trail she had jogged on. Finally he stopped and turned. “I like to swim in a private spot off the beaten path,” he said. “Do you mind?”

  “No,” Cleo answered quickly. Whoever left the bathing suit knows where I am, she kept thinking.

  “It’s probably not smart to swim in a secluded area since there isn’t a lifeguard, but if I go under, I know you’ll save me.” Dirk rubbed his cheek. “I can tell you have my best interests at heart.”

  “You’re a big guy, Dirk. I don’t know whether I’d be able to save you, but I’ll do my best.”

  “And I’ll do my best to save you.” He paused. “If you need it.”

  Dirk has no idea how ominous his words sound, Cleo thought. “Let’s hope not,” she answered.

  Dirk turned and stepped off the trail into the woods, pushing branches aside. Twigs snapped beneath their feet. Talk about the path less traveled, Cleo thought as she followed him. A few minutes later the lake came into view.

  “Careful, it starts to get a little steep here,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Let me help you. I don’t want you to slip and fall.”

  Cleo extended her arm and his hand closed around hers. She didn’t expect it to feel so comforting.

  “Easy does it,” he said as the drop toward the lake got steeper and steeper. “Your hand is little, Miss Connie …”

  Here we go with the Western stuff again, Cleo thought.

  “Okay now. Going down this incline we have to be careful. It’s easy to gain too much momentum …”

  Their feet were moving quickly. They did gain momentum. As they were about to reach the sliver of beach, the dirt started crumbling beneath their feet.

  “Whoa,” Dirk said as they tried to slow down. When they hit the beach, they couldn’t stop, finally coming to a halt three steps into the water. Oddly exhilarated, they were both laughing. Dirk’s other arm went around Cleo’s waist to steady her. “Oops,” he said as the beach towels started to slip from his grasp. He let go of Cleo and threw the towels onto the sand, followed by his shoes. He then pulled off his baseball cap, sunglasses, and T-shirt and tossed them on the heap. Cleo did the same.

  Dirk smiled. “How about if I race you out to that marker? It’s halfway across the lake. Can you make it?”

  “Last one there is a rotten egg,” Cleo said as she charged into the water.

  “That’s the spirit,” Dirk whooped, diving under and swimming past her. The water’s cold but refreshing, Cleo thought. It feels good to swim. I’ve been cooped up for too long. She swam every day at Edna’s, except for the two days it rained. It’s good to get this exercise again. She could see that Dirk was almost at the marker. He stopped, turned his head, and started to tread water. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she called.

&nbs
p; “Good.” He turned and started swimming again.

  A moment later, Cleo felt a slight cramp in her stomach. Then the pain got sharper. Oh no, she thought. I knew I should have had some water after that jog. I’d better go back. She started to turn her body but the pain was so great she doubled over and started to sink. Her mouth filled with water. Panicked, Cleo started thrashing her arms and legs. “Dirk,” she tried to yell. If I go under, he’ll never find me.

  Dirk reached the marker and turned around. His expression turned to horror when he saw her struggling to stay afloat. “Connie!” he yelled, putting his head down and swimming toward her at a frantic pace. When he reached Cleo she was still thrashing her arms with surprising strength even though she felt exhausted.

  “Easy, Connie!” Dirk shouted, attempting to grab her arm. But Cleo was in a panic. Her thrashing and flailing were primal. “Connie, stop!” Dirk ordered. “You have to let me help you! Relax! Float on your back!”

  Cleo was terrified. But she had to trust him. She let herself go limp and put her head back. The cramp was gone, but so was her strength. Dirk put his right arm around her upper torso, rested her head on his shoulder, and with his left arm, started to paddle back to shore.

  “Don’t worry, Connie,” he said gently. “You’ll be fine.”

  On the beach, he eased her down onto the sand and placed the beach towel under her head. Cleo was breathing hard. “I’m sorry,” she said, her chest heaving, her eyes filled with tears.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Dirk said. “I should never have left you like that. I didn’t even ask you if you were a good swimmer. I could kick myself.”

  Cleo tried to smile. “I am a good swimmer. But I usually only swim in pools. I got a bad cramp. I was so afraid you’d never find me if I …”

  Dirk’s hand was on her cheek. “Relax, Connie. Just relax.” Cleo closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I’m okay. Let’s get going.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “You have to take a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” Cleo closed her eyes again and tried to catch her breath.

  Several minutes later Dirk helped her to her feet. Slowly they donned their shoes and T-shirts. Dirk took Cleo’s hand and he started up the crumbling trail. But his right foot slid out of his flip-flop, and he started to lose his balance. He let go of Cleo’s hand so he wouldn’t pull her down with him. The last thing he wanted was to cause her more problems.

  But it didn’t work. She fell backward onto the beach.

  24

  Edna and Nora were seated at the kitchen table, glasses of iced tea in front of them. Nora had already autographed her books and they were back on the lawn in a more prominent spot.

  “I can’t believe all the years that have gone by,” Edna said wistfully. “Remember how much fun we had, sitting at this table?”

  Vaguely, Nora thought, as she smiled. “Of course, Mrs. Frawley. I had some very memorable moments in this house.”

  “Edna. Please, call me Edna. We’re all grown-ups. Oh, I hear the front door opening.” She grabbed Nora’s arm. “Here we go! The sale’s starting right now!” But then she wrinkled her nose. “What’s all that yelling?” Edna pushed back her chair.

  Nora and Edna hurried into the dining room, where a middle-aged man with a bad haircut and an ill-fitting shirt that barely covered his stomach was checking the price tags of the items on the table. “This all belonged to Cleo Paradise?” he was asking, sweating profusely. “All these painted skulls and pottery?”

  “Yes,” Jody answered.

  “I’ll take everything,” he announced, gesturing broadly with his arms. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet. “I’m paying cash.”

  In the living room, a woman had her arms around the rack of Cleo’s clothes. “This is all mine,” she shouted. “I want everything here!”

  Regan hurried downstairs when she heard the yelling. These people are crazy, she thought.

  Another two women, most likely a mother and daughter, with the same bowl haircut, sharp nose, and square jaw, were clearly disappointed when they heard Cleo’s things were sold out. So disappointed they started complaining in raised voices.

  “Can’t we buy one of the skulls?” they asked. “They’re so different. We want a skull!”

  Jody shrugged. “If this gentleman would be willing to—”

  “No! I’m president of Cleo’s fan club. This is all mine.”

  “But we were waiting in line for hours …”

  “Oh, all right, I’ll be nice. You can have one of them. Make your choice. Hurry up.”

  Regan had gone over to stand with Edna and Nora. For once, Edna was speechless.

  The woman in the living room started throwing Cleo’s former belongings into a clear plastic bag. “I’m not stealing anything,” she yelled, almost to herself.

  Are these two together? Regan wondered. They must be. She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

  “Will you be buying anything else?” Jody asked the man, who was wiping his brow. “Or should I add this all up for you?”

  “That’s my wife in the other room. She’s the vice president of Cleo’s fan club. We’re together. Honey!” he shouted. “In here! We’ll pay this lady and hit the road.”

  What a pair, Regan thought. They must plan to resell this stuff on the Internet. They scooped up everything belonging to Cleo. Except the trunk I’m buying. I guess I should join the fan club.

  “Oh my,” Edna murmured. “I never expected something like this would happen. Where are people’s manners?”

  Outside, word spread quickly that there was nothing left of Cleo’s.

  It started an uproar.

  “After waiting this long!” some of Edna’s garage sale guests shouted in disgust as they stomped away. “What a rip-off!”

  A teenaged girl started crying. “I want to be an actress. I wanted something of Cleo’s to inspire me!”

  At least half the people in line left. Edna became distraught when she glanced through the window and saw the crowd disappearing. Like a shot she ran out the front door. “Come back, everyone! We have so many other lovely things that are still not sold … including signed copies of Nora Regan Reilly’s books!”

  Nora covered her ears.

  25

  Hayley and Laurinda were in the middle of their meal. Laurinda was eating her hamburger with gusto, but Hayley just picked at her salad. She didn’t have much of an appetite. First she’d been reeling from Regan’s news, then Scott’s call really threw her for a loop. But she had to focus on the business at hand.

  The restaurant was busy enough, but it was August, which for a place like Redman’s meant fewer regulars. Most people in show business were out of town, many in the Hamptons. In September the crowds would be back and the place would be buzzing again.

  Hayley was doing her best to be upbeat. “I was thinking that what we might do at your party was—”

  Laurinda put her hand on Hayley’s arm. “Just a minute,” she said as she looked toward the entrance of the restaurant.

  Hayley started to turn her head.

  “No, don’t,” Laurinda said quickly, turning back to Hayley. Elbows on the table, she spoke into the side of her hand. “You can look, but don’t make it obvious. I don’t want that actress coming in to see me.”

  A middle-aged man and a striking woman in her twenties walked past, following the maitre d’ to a private table in the corner.

  Hayley stole a glance. She didn’t want to admit it, but she had no idea who the actress was. And she felt it was her job to know all the famous faces. “Oh…,” she began, then decided she should be up front. As Laurinda said, there were enough phonies in the world. “I’m sorry, Laurinda, but I don’t recognize her.”

  Laurinda’s expression was blank as she looked into Hayley’s eyes. “I like you, Hayley,” she finally said. “You’re honest.”

  Unlike that jerk Scott, Hayley thought. “Thank you.”

>   “I mean it. There are people in this business who would have pretended they knew who she was. But the fact is, not many people do. Her name is April Dockton. She’s done a few little films but nothing’s clicked. She’d do anything to get her career going. That girl is scary.”

  “Really?”

  Laurinda nodded. “She auditioned for my play but wasn’t right. I kept hearing from her and hearing from her, she kept asking if she could audition again. She should play a stalker.”

  “Is she talented?” Hayley asked.

  “She can act. But does she have that certain something that will make her stand out from all the other talented, beautiful young women her age? I don’t know. What she needs is a lucky break.”

  Like me in the dating world, Hayley thought.

  “All it takes is one …”

  Yup, Hayley mused.

  “… one role in a movie or play that gets noticed.”

  Hayley nodded. “All it takes is one.” She put down her fork. “I love reading about unknown actors who made it really big after one role. Then you learn who turned down those very same parts, actors who had careers going, but never enjoyed the success they might have had if they had been smart enough to take that one role. It must be so hard to live that down.”

  “This business is full of coulda, shoulda, woulda. It’s all about being able to judge what’s a good script, what’s going to be a good production.” Laurinda’s eyes darted in the direction of April Dockton, who was fawning over the man she was with, tossing her hair, smiling a little too happily, touching his arm. “She’s working it,” Laurinda murmured.

  “What?” Hayley asked.

  Laurinda tilted her head in April’s direction. “That guy is a producer from the Coast who’s about to get a movie going. Ten to one, there’s a part in it April wants. She’s ambitious, boy. You talked about people who didn’t take certain parts and lived to regret it?” Laurinda asked, then paused for effect.

  “Yes,” Hayley said, waiting, knowing Laurinda was about to say something Hayley should find incredible.