Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery (A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery, a Cozy Christian Collection)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Mitzy almost had it at $3900 when a last minute bid came from the back. She fought for it up to $4300 but was beginning to feel foolish. The last bid was just $4350 dollars, so she upped it once more to $4400—well above the actual value of the piece. She smiled, satisfied, as her bid was about to be accepted.

  “Six thousand dollars.”

  She flipped in her chair and glared at Alonzo. “Six thousand dollars? Are you crazy?”

  “Too rich for you, Mitz?” He smiled, his eyes laughing at her.

  “Too stupid for me,” she hissed at him.

  “Oh, Alonzo, what a lovely piece,” said Adele looked fondly at her nephew. “Do you have someone special in mind for it?” She turned and smiled at Mitzy.

  “You are a special lady, Aunt Adele, but I think this time my mother is the most special.” The men at the table guffawed at him. “Well played, Miramontes. Don’t let anyone pin you down before you are ready,” Mr. Mitchell said, his white mustache twitching as he laughed.

  Things were quiet at their table until the Romanov-Mikhaylichenko pendant came up. A deeper hush fell over the room and the pendant was put up for an opening bid of one thousand dollars. Someone from the back of the room raised it from that to $5000 in one bid.

  Mrs. Wilber’s bidding war brought the price up to $15,000 before she dropped out.

  Mitzy looked at Alonzo with a gleam in her eye and bid $15,500. It wasn’t just a drop in the bucket anymore, but she hadn’t been priced out entirely.

  It went back and forth, until Mitzy had the high bid at $17,000.

  “Twenty thousand dollars.” Aerin held up her paddle, her mouth a firm line. Her forehead glistened but her paddle didn’t shake. Brett put his drink down and cleared his throat.

  “I would like to retire someday.” Brett took a long drink from his tumbler.

  “Don’t be dramatic.” Aerin held her paddle firm.

  Mitzy’s face was flushed and her breath was shallow.

  Sabrina stared with her huge eyes.

  Mitzy’s paddle stayed on the table.

  The pendant was sold to Aerin Flint-Neuhaus.

  Alonzo appraised Mitzy carefully. He didn’t want to, but he had to respect her restraint in that moment. There’s a woman that doesn’t act on impulse. He added it to her short list of positive traits. Before this evening the list had been very short. The black dress had upped her positive points considerably, but a well dressed woman with self-control was altogether more rare and impressive.

  Mitzy went home without any of the jewelry she had admired but also without the buyer’s remorse she would have had. Aerin should be so lucky.

  Mitzy shivered. She had made it through the whole evening without killing Alonzo Miramontes. There should have been an award for that. At times she even laughed at his jokes. He could tell a good story. She wondered if he might take her idea of going on the radio seriously.

  They could be a good team.

  She stopped. That hadn’t really popped into her head, had it?

  No. She was thinking of what would be good for the radio station, that’s all.

  A stocky, rather nondescript man of medium height and sandy brown-ish hair swept the floor of the Tiffany Center after the gala event. He had watched Aerin Flint-Neuhaus with care as she made her auction purchase official. And during the evening he had noted that Mitzy Neuhaus owned a rental property on a certain road called Baltimore.

  Sunday morning Mitzy needed to be refreshed. She didn’t need responsibility or obligations. The morning was cool and gray. Rain was misting.

  Her hair would need extra fortification today. She appraised herself in the mirror. Freshly washed, it looked almost the same as it had at the gala on Friday night. Loose, long and soft.

  She put the can of hair spray down. Forget it, she thought. Today is for me and God. Not clients or men.

  She left the house in more casual clothes, just jeans and a sweater. Perfect for light spring rain and anonymity. She drove right past her small family church. It would be a good day to disappear into a mega church, spend a Sunday without anyone asking her to join a project committee. She liked committees, but some days she just needed a Sabbath.

  She went all the way across town, to the Westside, where she didn’t buy any print ads. The big church on this side of town was New Life Ministries, some kind of non-denomination place famous for its good teaching and young pastor. Inside, she sunk into a green pew chair and opened her Bible. A few people greeted her in a friendly way, and she responded, but generally, they let her sit quietly and read.

  By the end of the service she was ready to take communion. She had shed the frustration of the gala, of painful associations with people she didn’t like and of the bad economy. She knew the peace might not last, but as she walked forward to take her bread and juice she only felt thankful.

  She was thankful that her sister-in-law had allowed her to help with such a big part of her life, despite their differences.

  She was thankful for having spent a fun evening with her friend Sabrina.

  She was thankful that in this time of hardship for so many people she was able to be a blessing. She felt very blessed indeed to be able to be a blessing.

  Her turn came at the little table in the front of the sanctuary. There were about ten white tablecloth covered tables at the front and at each one a lengthy line of people waited.

  The waiting had been significant for her. She served herself the body and the blood, closed her eyes and thanked the Lord.

  As she walked away from the table her eyes wandered down the line of tables. So many people partaking in the Lord’s Supper together, each one of them giving themselves once more to God and His will.

  It lifted her heart that so many people wanted God. If she could keep a tight hold on today’s feeling she could do anything.

  The man at the table next to her was kneeling, but she recognized him anyway. Who would have thought?

  She was back to her seat by the time Alonzo had risen from his kneeling stance.

  In her car, leaving the parking lot, Mitzy saw Alonzo helping a very old woman into his pickup truck. She wondered absently if it was his grandmother or someone else. At any rate, it was a surprising bit of nice to add to the overall picture.

  She thought about what compromising her stance on her building would really mean.

  How bad would it be to sell him half of her building?

  If he had that project to do he might give up on his plans for the Victorian. And maybe he wasn’t as awful as he seemed.

  Monday morning, Joan stumbled through the front door of the office, her arms protecting a stylish, if somewhat large purse.

  “Where’s Mitzy?” Joan asked, puffing for breath.

  “Getting coffee. Didn’t you see her in the parking lot?” Sabrina eyed the bag. It was cute. Sort of high style. Not quite as artsy as she’d expect from Joan.

  “She wasn’t at Bean Me Ups. Maybe she went to make a donut run.” Joan leaned against the wall.

  “Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” Sabrina waved her hand towards the empty chair at Mitzy’s desk. “You know we’re not doing anything very important right now.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sabrina could have sworn that Joan’s purse moved. She eyed it very closely. It had vented sides. “Joan…do you have a happy announcement to make?” Sabrina asked.

  Joan sat down, sort of cradling her bag. “You’re quick, come peek.”

  Sabrina peeked into a dog carrier masquerading as a bag. Inside was a small golden fluffy something. Very sweet.

  “Ooh! Can I hold it?” Sabrina crooned.

  “Of course.” Joan lifted a fluffy, floppy eared puppy dog out of the purse and gently handed it over to Sabrina.

  “What is it?” Sabrina asked, holding its soft fur to her cheek.

  “He’s a cock-a-poo.”

  “What?”

  “A cocker spaniel poodle. He’s the sweetest thing ever. A client of mine bought him last week while her husband was
away on vacation. But when hubby came back he said no way, period, end of sentence.” Joan set the dog carrier on Sabrina’s desk. “She didn’t dare tell him what the dog cost. I’m keeping track of him for a little bit, but I can’t do it all day. I’ve actually got a new job starting. It’s charming the way people turn to stagers after their house has sat for months on end instead of before.” Joan pulled out Mitzy’s chair and sat down. She stretched her arms and sighed deeply. “Do you know where I can find a good dog boarder?”

  “A boarder? No, poor thing. Leave him here. We’re not doing anything today. Do you have any puppy food for him?” Sabrina held the puppy up to her cheek and nuzzled him.

  “Oh no, he ate. I can come back and get him before he needs anything else. I’ll take a lunch and come see how you are doing. Listen, if it is really okay, I’ll leave him. I’ve got to run now.” Joan stood up again. “Promise me it’s not a problem, or he won’t stay.” Joan stepped towards the door, ready to make her break.

  “Wittle himsy a problem? Never!” Sabrina held him over her head and wiggled him like a baby.

  Joan had the door open before Sabrina finished her sentence. “My client called him Gilbert. Have fun, you two.”

  Joan had been gone for quite a while before Mitzy returned with her coffee and donuts. But not long before Ben showed up with his sarcasm and complete disbelief over what idiots women can be at times.

  Mitzy brought in coffee and donuts. Not from Bean Me Ups, which doesn’t sell donuts, but from Winchells, a Portland classic. She set them on the reception counter and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

  Sabrina blushed.

  “Is it a sort of Lysol meets dog pee kind of smell?” Ben laughed.

  “Well, yes. It is.”

  “Then yes, I smell it too.”

  “So…is it too obvious to ask why we smell that?” Mitzy was looking the not gigantic room over as she asked.

  “It’s Gilbert’s fault.” Ben jerked his thumb in Sabrina’s direction.

  “Gilbert?” Mitzy turned her attention to Sabrina. The can of Lysol air spray was on her desk. A magenta bag with vented sides was on the floor, in the knee hole of the desk, but Mitzy saw it.

  “He’s just a puppy, Ben. What do you expect?” Sabrina nudged the carrier with the toe of her Birks, pushing it farther under the desk.

  “Puppy?” Mitzy was catching on slowly.

  “He’s awful sweet, Mitz. He’s a cock-a-poo, and velvety soft, so fluffy and tiny. Really tiny, come see.” Sabrina lifted a small, slightly damp puppy out of the bag from the floor.

  “Sabrina! He’s all wet. Didn’t you take him out?” Mitzy turned her head and looked sideways at the messy, sort of smelly little dog.

  “Should I take him out? I thought that’s what the bag was for.”

  “You didn’t!” Mitzy groaned.

  “Umm. I kind of did. It says washable.” Sabrina turned tomato red.

  “Then go wash it, and the puppy. Run to the bathroom, use warm water and no soap. Or wait, I have some baby shampoo in my desk. Use that.” Mitzy dug in her desk drawer and pulled out a sample sized bottle of shampoo. She couldn’t let the dog derail her plans, so she worked hard to maintain a sense of equanimity.

  “So, can I ask why you keep a bottle of baby shampoo in your desk?” Ben crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, an amused smile playing on his face.

  “It’s not as mysterious as why Sabrina is keeping a puppy under her desk. I keep a change of clothes in the closet. If I get a stain I can hand wash it right away. I’m certainly not going to use bathroom hand soap on anything silk. But really, why the puppy?” Sounds of crying puppy and splashing water were coming from the ladies’ room.

  “Sounds like Sabrina could use your change of clothes too,” was all Ben offered.

  “If she’s learned anything working here, she has her own. Why a puppy?” The last bit she projected so Sabrina could hear her.

  From the bathroom came, “Joan!”

  “Joan.” Mitzy picked out a maple bar. This was not a good day for a stinky office. Curt was going to call again about the film crew, and most likely want to see her office. If she could, she’d have them film the signing in her small, private office. It was charming, had good light. Simple, quality craftsman furniture picked up bit by bit at the antiques mall down the road. He’d want to see the office though and today it smelled bad. They would be much more likely to film at Xavian’s Bistro two blocks down if he thought her office was a dump. Well, not a dump, but a place that smelled too bad to spend the day in for filming.

  All she wanted to do right now was sell a house. She’d gladly trade her donut and the TV show for a nice, hopeful couple in the back of the company HHR driving around looking for their dream house. That was really the only way she wanted to spend the day.

  Sabrina popped out of the bathroom with the wet puppy wrapped in her Lands End cardigan. He was much cuter wet and clean than he had been filthy.

  “I have the carrier drying in the sink.” She tried to pass the puppy to Ben. He refused impolitely.

  “Oh, give him to me.” Mitzy reached for Gilbert.

  “I’ll just run back in the bathroom for a second and dry the carrier with some paper towels.”

  She came back in a moment with the dry, clean carrier.

  The warm wiggling dog made Mitzy’s pulse slow down. She held him close to her heart. “Sabrina, if you are going to keep him here all day, you have to take him outside to the planter box to potty every twenty minutes. You can’t let him go in his carrier. For one thing it makes him miserable. For another…well, it still stinks in here.”

  Sabrina looked down at her feet.

  “What is it?”

  “I took him out to play for a few minutes,” Sabrina said quietly.

  “And?” Mitzy raised her eyebrow.

  “He had an accident on the rug.” Sabrina glanced towards a dark stain near Ben’s chair.

  “And you tried to clean it with air deodorizer?” Mitzy pressed the dog closer to her chest and let out a slow breath. She could keep calm, if she tried.

  “It said disinfecting…” Sabrina chewed her bottom lip and looked up at Mitzy.

  “It smells horrible.” A warm spot began to develop on Mitzy’s blouse. Mitzy scratched Gilbert behind his ear and then placed him in his carrier gently.

  Ben snorted.

  Sabrina offered a little smile.

  Mitzy exhaled slowly, through her mouth. “Sabrina, take the puppy and your sweater home. Then go to the pet shop. Buy disposable puppy pads and enzyme floor spray. I’m going to change my blouse, put it to soak, and that would be why I have the baby shampoo, Ben. Then I am going to beg the carpet cleaners to get here immediately.” Mitzy took her change of clothes out of the closet.

  Her phone rang.

  Sabrina flew out of the office as quick as she could. She did not seem to notice that she had left the puppy under her desk.

  Mitzy took her cell phone into the bathroom with her to change.

  “Mitzy, baby!” the caller said.

  “Yes, Curt?” Mitzy pulled one sleeve off.

  “We made it to town and I want to see you today.” Curt sounded like he was eating something.

  “That will be wonderful. I was hoping it would work out.” She slipped the other arm out of the other sleeve.

  “We are going to see three other applicants today—but they are the buyers. The market is crazy right now and we wanted to secure four episodes while we are here. No point in coming this far out and not getting something done.” In fact, it sounded like Curt was eating and in a car. Or more hopefully eating somewhere outside where there was traffic.

  “I think that sounds like a wise idea. This is the best time of year to be filming in Portland.” Mitzy got three buttons undone, which was harder with a tiny cell phone pinned between her shoulder and her ear than she had thought it would be. She was wishing she had done the buttons first, and then the sleeves.

  �
��Can your client meet up with us today as well?” Curt asked.

  What with the gala and her Victorian obsession, Mitzy hadn’t taken the time to line up her client. And they had no buyers waiting. “Curt…” She was determined to be completely truthful, even if she felt like a fool. “I don’t have anyone lined up. My stager has a client and I was hoping to talk to them about the show, but I don’t have any buyers right now.”

  “That’s okay, babe.” He had called her baby and babe more working together for House Hunters than he had in the two years they dated. “We’ve got our people and we’ll find a match for you. You work on your client. We’ll try and get you in two episodes, okay? We’ll talk about the wrap up shoot when we sign papers.” There was honking, rather loud honking.

  It would be like Curt, Mitzy thought, to be eating, talking on the phone and driving a rented convertible at the same time. “When would you like to meet?” she asked, slipping her shirt off and catching it with her free hand.

  “Let’s do this after lunch.”

  “Can we go even later?” she asked as she unfolded her v-neck sweater.

  “You have something in mind?” Curt said around a mouthful of food.

  “Let’s meet here at the office at five.” She held the phone away from her head for a moment, while she quickly pulled the sweater over her head.

  She caught back up with Curt mid-sentence. “Then afterwards we can come right over. Five sounds fine. Want to do dinner when we are done with business?”

  “I’d love to. We’ll see you at five, Curt.”

  “Five it is.” Curt hung up and Mitzy followed.

  Curt and the House Hunters team were coming at five.

  Mitzy got Chem-Dry on the phone. She begged and pleaded and now they were coming at noon to clean the floors, promising to be done by two at the latest.