Murder for Bid

by Furlong Bolliger, Susan

  “Yes, perfectly!”

  “Good. Because if they didn’t, I was going to take you shopping. We all know you can’t be trusted in the mall by yourself. I’ll be at your place at 4:00 sharp and I’ll bring my entire make-up collection.”

  I wondered if he’d also be wearing some, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask. One of Shep’s quirks was that he liked to enhance a bit with cosmetics. “You’re a great friend, Shep,” I said. And I meant it, too. After spending so much time lately with a bunch of screwed-up people, I could really appreciate my family and friends.

  Speaking of family, I thought back to the pimply teen I had seen at Schmidt’s office. There was no doubt that I had seen Jessica Hanson. I hesitated for a minute and then picked up my phone. Maybe my relationship with Sean was on hiatus, but he was still the best link I had to the police department and I had some information that belonged to the cops. Of course, maybe I should keep it to myself and hand it over to them when I had more proof. I could follow up on these leads and see where they end up.

  I debated for a few seconds, finally deciding to give Sean a call. Besides, I had learned my lesson today. I needed to leave the investigating to the professionals.

  “Hello,” a sleepy-sounding female answered. I could hear Sean’s muffled voice in the background.

  I was shocked.

  “Hello,” she said again. It had to be Sarah Maloney. I had met his mother and sisters and this voice didn’t sound like any of them.

  “Hello?”

  I froze. I couldn’t figure out what to say. More so, I didn’t trust myself to say anything. Who knows what I might say to this woman once I got started. So, I hung up. To hell with the cops and Sean.

  I reached for another slice of pizza, ditched the soda, and found a half empty bottle of wine in my fridge.

  *

  I woke the next morning to a startling crash.

  “Grandma gave me the key,” Claire, my seven-year-old niece said as she stared wide-eyed at the shards scattered on the floor. “She said I could come up and explore. You always have the neatest stuff, Auntie Pip.”

  “Don’t move,” I instructed, bolting from my sofa-bed to get a broom. She listened, staying statue-still while I swept up jagged ceramic pieces from the floor. I guess I wouldn’t be selling a full set bowls at the market next weekend. Too bad. I couldn’t believe my luck when I had pulled all four pieces still intact from the dumpster behind a residence hall. Oh, well. Maybe, I could sell the remaining ones individually as candy dishes.

  “I’m sorry,” my niece said solemnly. I checked my facial expression and put on a happy smile.

  “Sorry about what? It’s not a big deal, Claire. Don’t worry about it.” I settled back onto my sofa bed and patted the spot next to me. Then I jumped back up and scurried to remove the empty wine bottle lying on the floor by my bed. Geez, had I really finished it off last night?

  “So when did you guys get here?” I asked, shoving the last of the bottles into my recycling bin and rejoined her on my bed.

  “Late last night. Daddy couldn’t come. He’s on call this weekend. Mommy was mad about it, but she got a pretty dress. I’m really hungry.” My brother-in-law was a heart specialist at a hospital about two hours south of Naperville. I knew that his hours were tough on my sister, especially with two young children.

  I moved to my kitchen and scoured the fridge. “Ever had pizza for breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I said, popping a couple left-over slices in the microwave.

  My niece began clearing papers off my coffee table.

  “Whoa, hang on there. I’ll move those.” I rushed to save a stack of bills and ATM receipts. I was forever behind on paperwork. “So are your mom and grandma still sleeping?”

  “Yup. So is Sam. Grandma says he needs to sleep, so he won’t be cranky for the babysitter tonight. You’re so lucky to get to go to the ball. I wanna go, too.”

  “The ball?” I wondered if all seven-year-olds spoke in secret code.

  “The library ball,” she replied as if I were stupid.

  “Ah, I see. You don’t want to go to the library ball. It’s going to just be a bunch of old people listening to other old people talk about boring stuff. And we’ll have to eat yucky things like broccoli and Chicken Florentine.”

  “Won’t there be a prince?”

  I laughed. “Nope, definitely no prince.” The question made me wonder if Greg would be there. Certainly, he would have a huge interest in the library’s building plans. I silently thanked God for Shep, the miracle worker. At least I’d be looking my best tonight. Shep was better than a guest spot on a fashion makeover show.

  “Auntie Pip. You’re spacing out. Mom says you always did that when you were a kid. She thinks that Sam got your genes. He has a runaway imagination, too.”

  “Oh, is that what your mom says? Well, poor Sam. Maybe he’ll outgrow it.” Or maybe he’ll end up a junk runner like his aunt. My sister, Margaret, probably spent all her free time praying her only son wouldn’t end up like his dumpster-diving aunt. I stifled my resentment and put on my best smile for Claire, “Let’s eat some pizza and see what’s on TV,” I said.

  Three cartoon shows later, I escorted my niece down to my parents’ kitchen.

  Mom and Margaret were peacefully sipping their morning coffee. Apparently they felt no guilt about using me as a babysitter while they enjoyed a leisurely morning.

  “Hey Sis!” Maggie hugged me warmly. “Did you and Claire have a nice visit?”

  “We sure did.” I ran my hand over Claire’s copper curls. “She’s been keeping me entertained this morning.”

  “I’ll bet,” Mom said, sliding a full cup and some creamer my way. Then she turned to Claire. “Honey, why don’t you go see what Grandpa is up to. Maybe you could be his little helper for a while.”

  Claire ran off to find my dad, leaving us alone to catch up. Between the three of us, we finished a full pot of coffee, polished off an entire coffee cake, and gossiped about every O’Brien family acquaintance near and far.

  By ten o’clock we’d had sufficient sugar and caffeine to hit the road for a morning of shopping. We ate a late lunch at a quaint tea room and treated ourselves to salon manicures. It was a classic girls’-day-out. I hadn’t even realized just how much I needed it.

  When we finally arrived home, we found Dad happily playing in the yard with the kids. I felt a twinge of sadness whenever I saw my dad with his grandkids. Other than Mary Frances, who was a committed religious, my sisters were blessed with wonderful husbands and beautiful kids. Probably by the time I got around to having children, Mom and Dad would be too old to play with them. I hated the thought of Mom and Dad never knowing my kids. I guess that’s the consequence of not finding ‘Mr. Right’ and settling down to a normal life. Again, my thoughts returned to Sean and the woman that answered his phone. It had to be Sarah Maloney. What was she doing at his place?

  “I’ll get us a snack,” I said, not wanting to think too much about it. There was no reason to ruin this day with thoughts of Sean. “When’s the babysitter coming by?” I asked.

  “I asked her to get here around five, so that I’d have some time to get ready,” Maggie said.

  “That’s only a couple of hours from now. We’d better get busy.” Mom glanced at her watch and then scurried off to the kitchen. I followed to help.

  “Who are you taking tonight?” Mom asked as we sliced some cheese and put crackers on a tray.

  “A friend.” I had hoped to get through the day without having this conversation.

  “Oh, yeah? Which one, Greg or Sean?”

  “Which one are you hoping I’ll take?” I bantered back, although I could tell my response was annoying her.

  “For heaven’s sake, Phillipena, just tell me who you’re taking? I paid two thousand dollars for our tickets. That’s approximately two-hundred and fifty dollars a person, so I think I have the right to know who’s
going with you.”

  “Shep,” I answered, watching her face for a reaction. I could tell she was struggling to place the name.

  “Shep? Who’s … oh, no! That man that runs the consignment shop? He’s so … so …”

  “Flamboyant,” I finished. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make sure he tones it down for the evening. We’ll meet you there!” I shoved a cracker with cheddar in my mouth and made for the door. I could tell Mom was going to lose it and I didn’t want to be around for the fallout.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Back in my apartment, I took a scalding-hot shower, letting the stream work the kinks out of my shoulders. When the water finally ran cold, I emerged.

  Someone began pounding on the door before I could even get dried off. I answered, one towel stretched around my body, the other bundled around my head, making me look like a scantily dressed swami.

  “Hi doll!” Shep, dressed in an exquisite black silk leisure suit, blew a couple of air kisses and swept past me, a suit bag slung over his shoulder and a large rolling bag in tow. “I’m early. Just out of the shower, huh? Perfect timing.” He wielded his hands dramatically in front of me. “I have a blank canvas on which to create my masterpiece.”

  “Geez, Shep. I didn’t know you were planning to stay over-night.” I eyed his luggage.

  “This? This isn’t an overnight bag. This is my tool bag.” He patted the case and dragged my dinette chair across the floor, positioning it in front of my one and only window. “Now, go get your skivvies on and get back in here. We’ve got work to do.”

  I obeyed and by the time I returned, Shep had converted my apartment into a salon. My kitchen counter now contained a myriad of beauty apparatuses. Most of which, I didn’t recognize. Some of them looked quite tortuous. I glanced around, wondering what might have happened to the shipping labels and packaging supplies that were on the kitchen counter just a few minutes ago. Between my niece, Claire, and Shep, I was never going to get my paperwork back in order.

  “Don’t worry about that other stuff. I piled it all on the sofa. It’s safe,” Shep reassured me. “Now sit back and let me do my thing.”

  I surrendered. Oddly enough, I felt quite comfortable sitting in the middle of my apartment in nothing but my undies, while a half crazed man whirled around me with makeup and hair brushes, bottles of foam and goop, and enough hairspray to choke a horse.

  “Voila!” He finished with a final flourish. “Now the dress and then the big reveal.”

  I squeezed myself into the dress and made a few stocking and undergarment adjustments before parading into the bathroom to see the end result. What I saw stopped me cold. “Oh Shep!” I cried, squeezing past the toilet to give him a hug.

  “I did well, huh?” He held me at arm’s length, smoothing my dress. “Now don’t mess it up. What’s this, tears? No, no, no, darling. No tears. You’ll smear my work.”

  I laughed, glancing back at the mirror. I hardly recognized the person I saw. My makeup routine usually consisted of mascara, lip gloss and the occasional zit cover-up. Shep had completely transformed me. My cheekbones were sculpted, my green eyes popped, and my lips had that full, pouty look. I kind of looked like a red-hair version of Angelina Jolie.

  Shep ushered me back to the chair and ordered me to stay put. “Give me a few minutes to change, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom. I began praying that he wouldn’t embellish too much. Shep had a strange fondness for jewelry, especially rings. That would be regular rings, earrings, and sometimes a nose ring. That and the fact that he dabbled in makeup from time to time, could make for some strange combinations. Not that it didn’t all fit in with his personality, especially at the Retro Metro, but at the library fundraiser, he’s surely stick out like a sore thumb.

  “Thank you, God,” I murmured ten minutes later when Shep emerged looking very much like a typical fundraiser attendee. He had chosen a conservative tux with a black bowtie. His lips were highly glossed, but in a clear tint. There was only the slightest hint of eyeliner accenting his dark brown eyes. Nobody would probably notice. “You look great, Shep.”

  “Yeah, I was tempted to accessorize a bit more, but I figured your parents would appreciate a more subdued look.” He smiled and added, “You owe me one.”

  “More than one, Shep.” I placed a few essentials into a tiny sequined bag and took his outstretched arm.

  “You’re going to wow them tonight, doll,” he said as we made our way down to the alley. “I brought the Land Rover. It might be more suiting to arrive in a car that isn’t dragging a bumper.”

  I eyed my poor Volvo. “Good thinking,” I agreed.

  Traffic was in our favor, and the drive to nearby Lisle only took twenty minutes. The gala was being held in the ballroom of one of the town’s best hotels. Shep handed the keys over to the valet as I stood on the curb trying to look natural. All around us elegantly dressed couples walked arm in arm, chatting and laughing as if attending a formal event was the most natural thing in the world.

  I glanced with trepidation toward the lights of the hotel lobby. I had been at this hotel once for a friend’s wedding reception, a grandiose event that I barely remembered as I had spent the whole time by the chocolate fountain, washing down dipped strawberries with expensive champagne. That, however, was my previous life. Back then, I wore power suits and fit in comfortably with other designer label wearers. Lately, I had only been squeezing my buns into jeans. I was out of practice but I knew that somewhere inside me, that classy, powerful woman still lurked. I sucked in a deep breath and willed her to come out.

  “Ready?” Shep had looped his arm with mine. “Hang close to me through cocktails. I’ll help you work the room.”

  I swallowed my nerves and managed a smile.

  We made our way through the lobby and flowed with the current of attendees into the ballroom area. We stopped off at the check-in table to sign in, pick up a program, and locate our table on the seating chart. I clung tightly to Shep’s arm as we pushed our way into the crowd.

  I scanned the room hoping to catch a glance of Mom and Dad or Margaret. I also hoped to mingle a little with some of Amanda’s friends. I figured that since she was head of the planning committee, there would be quite a few people who knew her. Maybe if the wine was flowing, and my timing was right, someone would talk. I’d just love to find some valuable lead on my own while Sean was wasting time with that sleepy-voiced co-chairman.

  Shep’s mingling skills were amazing and by the time we made it to the bar, we had a small following of groupies. I was just about to take a sip from a glass of Merlot when a familiar voice stood out from the crowd. “Hello, Shep. How are you?”

  “Why hello, detective,” Shep said as he glanced between the two of us. “Don’t I have the most beautiful date in the room?” he oozed, waving a hand over me with a wicked smile. Sean’s eyes lingered but he didn’t make any comments. My stomach dropped as I thought back to the sexy voice that had answered his phone the night before.

  “Mind if I borrow your date for a few minutes?” he finally asked.

  I excused myself and followed Sean to a quiet corner. He looked down at me with hooded eyes, “You do look amazing.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I managed to say while resisting the urge to ask him about the sexy voice.

  “I’m at the commissioner’s table. I was hoping you’d ask me to come, but when you didn’t, I took Sergeant Treble’s tickets; he’s out with a gall-stone.” He glanced over my shoulder and added with a grin, “If you weren’t going to come with me, I guess Shep’s the next best thing.”

  We both peered back at the bar where Shep was involved in a lively conversation with several couples. I guess Sean was glad to see me with Shep, rather than Greg Davis.

  “I need to ask you a favor,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I jerked away.

  “You’re still mad at me?” he asked innocently.

  I bit my
lip.

  He shrugged and continued, “There are some key players here and I know that you’ll be tempted to question them about Amanda’s murder. But I want you to lay low tonight. No questions, okay?”

  What? He dared tell me what to do? I couldn’t hold back any longer. “How dare you tell me what to do with my time, you lying cheater,” I hissed.

  “Huh?”

  “Did you have a good time last night?” A strange look crossed his face. “Yeah, that’s right Sean. I know you were with her last night. I called your house and she answered.”

  “You called my house last …”

  “Was it Sarah?” I sprayed a few beads of saliva as I spat out her name. I hated the name Sarah. I always had. Well, I did now anyway.

  He grabbed my elbow and pulled me closer. “Look, you’re wrong about this. You have no idea what’s going on.” His gripped tightened. “Look, before you go and get all worked up, I need to tell you something. Schmidt was in earlier today. He’s threatening to file a complaint against you. He said something about you showing up at his office the other day. The bracelet, your nosiness … well, it’s all starting to add up. My lieutenant is starting to wonder if we should take another look at you as a viable suspect. Like maybe you had something for Schmidt and you’ve been stalking him. You’re complicating things, Pippi. I need you to back off.” He had his face next to mine as he reprimanded me. He was standing so close that my eyeball was practically in his ear. I briefly considered biting it off.

  He continued before I could act on my impulse. “Plus, that thing I told you about with the Reiners. Well, the feds are cranking up the heat on that. I need you to forget what you know about Jessica Hanson. I need you to drop it or you’re going to cause trouble for my department.”

  This would have been a good time for me to tell him what I had learned from Janie Hanson and that I had seen Jessica at Schmidt’s office, but I was too ticked off about Sarah. Sarah. What did he mean I had no idea what was going on? She answered his phone like, like they were a couple or something. I had never answered Sean’s phone. And, her voice … it sounded so sleepy. Not even really sleepy, more like sleepless as if she hadn’t had a chance to sleep for days. Maybe that was because she had been so busy with Sean.