The Case of the Angry Auctioneer (Auction House Mystery Series Book 1)

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The Case of the Angry Auctioneer (Auction House Mystery Series Book 1) Page 10

by Sherry Blakeley


  “It’s my jewelry,” Mary grumbled. She hissed at Jasper, “These policemen don’t know that I have every right to be here. It IS my house, my father’s house, that is.”

  Jasper shrugged. She couldn’t seem to match Mary’s energy so she said nothing.

  Mary said, “So what happened? Is it true that it’s your father? That he died here. I mean, passed away right in this house, in my house, in my father’s house?”

  Glenn turned away. Jasper wondered if it was up to him, would he kick this nosy bitch out in the rain? Even in her shock and grief, Jasper was horrified at the language her own brain had just constructed. Oh please throw her out, she thought. But he was probably used to very bad behavior. Glenn got Cookie on the cell phone and told her briefly what happened. He handed the phone back to Jasper. “Your sister will be here right away,” he said.

  Officer Sheila crouched in front of Jasper, the way she had earlier with the Earnest Young Couple. “You’ve had a terrible shock. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to.”

  Jasper shook her head to clear it. “No, it’s okay. This lady is a client of ours and she needs to know.” She turned to Mary. “Yes, it’s Jimmy. He’s in the basement. He fell and hit his head.”

  “Are you sure he’s…gone?”

  Glenn and Sheila exchanged looks of incredulity. Is she kidding?

  “I didn’t check his pulse, did you?” Jasper struggled dizzily to her feet.

  Glenn captured her with his arm around her shoulder. “He’s gone, sweetheart. Your dad is gone.”

  “My daddy?” Jasper whispered. She sank back onto the sofa. She heard Officer Sheila rummaging through kitchen cupboards and running the faucet.

  She returned and handed Jasper a Styrofoam cup of water. “It was the only clean one I could find,” she said. “I rinsed off the dust.”

  Mary grew to her full height and lifted her chin. “I’d like to see the scene.”

  The police closed rank. Glenn stood silently. Mary towered over the female officer. But the officer knew how to handle bullies. “No need,” Sheila pronounced.

  “Maybe when Cookie gets here?” Jasper said. In times of crisis, Jasper’s politeness loomed large.

  Mary began to rearrange items on the cluttered coffee table.

  “Leave it,” Glenn said. “You heard what the lady said. Now just sit.”

  “I’m not accustomed to being ordered around in my own house,” Mary said.

  “Your father’s house,” Officer Sheila said.

  Mary glared down at her for a long moment. “And I’d like my charm back.”

  “Sit,” Glenn said. He dangled the small jewelry item in front of Mary. “How did this wind up with the auctioneer?” he asked.

  Mary snorted. “That’s a good question. I never did trust that guy.”

  Glenn raised an eyebrow at Jasper who said, “If she says it’s hers, it’s hers. Jimmy must have found it somewhere in this house after all.”

  "You'll get it back later," Glenn told Mary.

  She reached for Jasper’s hand. Jasper ignored her and clasped her own hands to her face. The house settled back into its shabby silence.

  Later, cocooned next to Cookie in her twin’s car, Jasper slumped with the exhaustion that was quickly overtaking her. “How’re you holding up, Sis?” Cookie asked her.

  “I feel weird,” Jasper said

  “Me too,” Cookie said. “Sudden death will do that to you.”

  Jasper giggled. She couldn’t help herself. “I suppose you’re right. How are you doing?”

  “About the same,” Cookie said. “Shaken up. It’s a lot different than helping other people with their dead relatives.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “We haven’t had one of our own since Mom,” Cookie said.

  “You’re right.”

  The twins drove along, warmed by the car heater cranked up high and the strong sisterly connection between them.

  Jasper said. “You know, Mom’s probably over on the other side trying to coax him into the light,”

  “She already has,” Cookie said.

  “Just like that? Even somebody like Jimmy has an easy time of it?”

  Cookie drove with one hand and reached for her sister’s with the other. “Jimmy was a rascal, and maybe even a bit of a crook,” she said. “But he wasn’t an evil person.”

  “Nope, not a serial killer or anything.”

  “Nope,” Cookie agreed. “And I’m pretty sure he paid all his property taxes.”

  “After he argued the city clerk to death.”

  They both laughed weakly and drove on, accompanied by the rain on the windshield and a carful of silent memories.

  Chapter 13

  The indifferent sun rose Thursday morning in its usual place as if Jasper’s world had not just shifted. She’d spent her REMs on dreams of houses with unending cluttered rooms. Dancing cobras, hugging pythons, and harmless garters were alive and well, at home in the hoarder’s jungle. Jimmy had walk-on parts like Alfred Hitchcock’s cameos in his own movies. One-Jimmy, two-two-two, two Jimmies, now three, got three Jimmies? Anyone go ‘four’? There he was again! But how did he avoid all the snakes?

  Jasper woke with a headache.

  She washed away the To Be Continued feeling with a big mug of instant coffee and a cold water splash in the bathroom sink. She took a fast glance in the mirror and shuddered. She looked like Alfred Hitchcock himself. At least Jimmy’s face did not show up, the way Cookie said ghosts sometimes did. A shiver slithered up her spine. No more mirrors for her. Not for a good long while. She voiced a prayer for the repose of Jimmy’s soul. If he was resting, he wouldn’t be haunting.

  She tugged on jeans, a navy blue sweatshirt, and sneakers. She eased her apartment door closed and tiptoed downstairs. It wasn’t until she reached her locked car that she realized she had forgotten something. She ignored the note on the windshield and slouched back up the sidewalk.

  Mrs. O’Neil opened the door on the first ring.

  “Forgot my keys,” Jasper told her.

  “I’m so very very sorry. Come in and we’ll talk about it.”

  “About my keys?”

  “Tisk, tisk. You’re in a bad way.” Mrs. O’Neil tossed a spent cigarette past Jasper’s head into a juniper bush. “I was there, you know, at the auction. Until the bitter end.”

  Jasper stepped in to a low-lying cloud of smoke.

  “Would you like a cigarette?” Mrs. O’Neil asked.

  Jasper had never taken up the habit, but she was probably already addicted, thanks to her housemates.

  “Maybe just a teensy puff to ease your heartache?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” Jasper said.

  Mrs. O’Neil pulled a fresh fag from her apron pocket. “See how it’s helping me? My love is undying.” She snapped the cigarette in two and handed the filtered half to Jasper. She burst into tears. She rushed back into her apartment. The door slammed behind her.

  “We could tape it back together!”

  Jasper heard no answer from inside. Just the keening of her mournful neighbor. Jasper placed the cigarette half outside the O’Neil’s door. She hurried upstairs to fetch her keys. All was quiet on her way out.

  On her drive to Biggs Auction, Jasper pushed the button to wash the bird poop off the windshield. The unread note under the washer blades blew away. Some nestling’s parents were doing a good job cleaning up at home. Jasper was an orphan now. She had no parents left to help her clean up the mess of her life.

  At the auction house, she parked next to Ted’s pickup. He had taken Jimmy’s old spot. Inside, Jasper found the crew cleaning up after last night’s auction just the way they had last Thursday.

  Ted strutted around giving unnecessary orders, yelling louder than ever.

  Tony and Esteban worked at the back, rearranging items, grouping them closer together, making room for new stuff that sellers would drop off, unloading the truck from a pick-up Wednesday morning, rushing, ru
shing, rushing, working steadily.

  “Put that box over here!” Ted yelled at Esteban and Tony.

  The men’s steps slowed way down. “Where did you want it, boss?” Tony asked.

  “I don’t need none of your lip today. You know where to put it,” Ted said.

  The guys exchanged a smirk. “You’re the boss,” Tony said. “I guess.”

  “Keep your fucking sarcasm to yourself,” Ted said.

  Jasper helped Grace and Kelly in the office, cashing out successful bidders who’d come in to pick up their items.

  “Who made him the frigging pope?” Kelly tossed her red curls.

  “Nobody. That’s the trouble.” Grace sighed. “I was hoping for a lighter day today myself. All things considered.” She seemed to be moving in slow motion, going through the steps of her job by memory alone.

  “Yeah. We haven’t had one of those light days for a long time. Not since Jimmy got off the booze and stopped having mornings after.”

  “Kelly!” Grace scolded her.

  “Simple truth,” Kelly mumbled.

  Jasper pulled a small butterfly box of costume jewelry out of the display case. “You think there were a lot of sunny days growing up under his roof?”

  “Sorry ‘bout your step-dad,” the customer on the other side of the counter said. Absentee Bidder Number 116.

  “Thanks.” Jasper clutched the jewelry box.

  “Here, I’ll do that.” Kelly reached for the flat. The nouveau amber necklace glowed like the real thing.

  “I can do it.” Jasper held on tight.

  Kelly tugged.

  Grace interceded. She pulled the straight pins out of the lid and lifted the necklace free of the case. She stepped over to the calculator. “Let’s see. Buyer’s fee, state tax. You owe us $23.10.”

  “Why don’t you get out of here?” Kelly whispered. “You gotta be mourning, right?”

  A chubby customer in jeans and an “Uff-Da” sweatshirt was moving up to the counter and from the look on his face, was about to offer Jasper another round of concern and condolences over Jimmy’s death. “I could go help with set up,” Jasper said.

  “You could take a cigarette break,” Grace said.

  “Why does everybody want me to start smoking? “

  “Get out of here already!” Kelly said gruffly, then added more kindly, “We’ve got it covered.” She turned back to help the next customer at the counter. “Mr. Parker! Let’s see. You won the box lot of puzzles and item number three from the showcase. The salt and pepper cows!”

  Good,” the plump man with the red face said. “Mother will be very happy.”

  “Estie!” Kelly yelled at her husband. “Mr. Parker needs his stuff from the back room!”

  Jasper approached Ted Phillips who was sorting through boxfuls at the back table. “It’s just like the Rose Bowl Parade, isn’t it?” she asked conversationally. “As soon as one auction’s done, we get started on the next one.”

  “Right,” Ted grunted. His arm snaked around Jasper’s shoulders even as he continued rummaging, with one hand only, through one of the boxes piled on a cart near the table. “Sorry for your loss.” He squeezed her into her side.

  Jasper pulled away.

  “Tony!” Ted bellowed. “What lot is this?”

  “It’s for Andy!” Kelly and Grace called out simultaneously.

  “Looks like Andy’s. So what is he – 101?”

  “One-ten,” Esteban said. He handed over the puzzle box and salt shakers at the office.

  Jasper grabbed up a marker off the table and wrote #110 on the sides of the boxes Ted was re-sorting into. She knew the drill.

  Grace sidled up alongside her. “Come with me,” she said into Jasper’s ear. “Break!” Grace yelled without turning around.

  Jasper followed her lead.

  Outside the auction house, the spring sun persisted. “Feels good.” Grace lifted her worn face. The bright light made her look older and more weathered than Jasper usually saw her. Sadder. She struck a match with her fingernail. The smoke spiraled heavenwards.

  Jasper shook her head. “Got my own.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the remains of Mrs. O’Neil’s cigarette half. Crumbs. She dumped them in the outdoor ashtray.

  “I want to give you something.” Grace gestured with her lit cigarette.

  “No, really. I have enough guilt. I don’t need a new bad habit. No offense.”

  “Here.” Grace reached for Jasper’s hand and pushed a key into her palm. “For Jimmy’s apartment. I won’t need it anymore.” She took one long drag, then pinched the end dead and dropped the cigarette back into her chest pocket. She headed for the door.

  “I’ll go back to work with you.”

  “No, no. You take a real break, honey. Go see what he left behind. Maybe there’s something you or your sister could use.”

  Jasper looked at the key to Jimmy’s enclave. “There’s plenty of time for going through his stuff,” she said.

  Grace paused. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. There are a few more keys floating around.”

  Ten minutes later, Jasper continued her meandering through Jimmy’s deserted apartment. It had been cold, deathly quiet and dark when she first went in, but with all the lamps switched on, the blinds opened on the single window, and the thermostat kicked up a couple notches, it felt less like a tomb. It still smelled strongly of Jimmy – a blend of antacid tablets, cologne, bacon, and scented dryer sheets (Jimmy used to love doing laundry of all things; could it have been a compulsion aimed at washing away his sometimes dirty dealings, Jasper wondered) – and that was disconcerting. So was the stuffed moose head looking down from above the large TV.

  Other taxidermied animals guarded the dead man’s walls and tables. A coyote, wild ducks, a goose, and a very large fish with teeth that was scary even in death. Jimmy had not been a sportsman. In fact as far as Jasper knew, he had no hobbies. Everything probably came from the auction. Weren’t some of those animals endangered species? Her auctioneering CD had warned about that. What did Wisconsin auction law say?

  Jasper didn’t recognize the furniture either. An extra-long leather sofa took up one whole wall of the living room. In front of it sat a polished driftwood table. On either side were oak end tables with shelves and drawers. The shelves held small figurines that might or might not have been made of ivory. The miniature monkeys and robed Asian figures had the look of age. Jasper tried the drawers but they were locked tight. Who had this key?

  None of this had been here last time Jasper visited. That was several years ago, thanks to Tim‘s dictum about avoiding her money grubbing stepfather. At least Jimmy was honest that way. His passion was making money. At least Jimmy owned up to his life goals.

  Jasper couldn’t decide where to settle. Even though Jimmy’s king-size bed was neatly made up, the comforter with bears ambling across a blood-red background spooked her.

  She took her shivery self into the small bathroom. Avoiding the mirror, Jasper opened the medicine cabinet. Antacid tablets. Toothbrushes. Half a dozen, with most still in their store packaging. Two different kinds of toothpaste. Dental floss cases neatly stacked: strings, ribbons, waxed, unwaxed, mint, plain and cinnamon. Acetaminophen. Aspirin. Menstrual pain reliever. Condoms.

  “He was well prepared,” Jasper said to herself. She tried to think of that as a good thing.

  On the bottom stood six bottles of cologne arranged by name. “Adventure, Boss, Curve, Desire, Envy and Old Spice,” she read. She picked up the white glass bottle and sniffed in the familiar scents of orange, cinnamon and vanilla musk.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Jasper jumped. The bottle fell into the sink and shattered. Jimmy’s signature scent filled the air. She exited the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Caller ID said it was Jimmy phoning.

  “It was an accident!” Jasper shrieked into the phone.

  “Miss Biggs?” a deep voice asked.

  “Who is this?” Jasper ba
cked onto the bed and sat down on some cotton grizzlies.

  “Sergeant Relerford.”

  “Glenn? My neighbor?”

  “Forest Grove Police.” His tone was more officious than neighborly, although it still held that sexy dark chocolate quality. “I’m sorry about your father, he said.” Hot fudge.

  “Stepfather. But it’s okay.” Jasper lay down on top of the bear-decorated comforter. If you forgot that wild animals stalked beneath you, it was actually quite comfortable. She stretched out kitty-corner with her shoes hanging over. Maybe a short nap was just what she needed. Maybe she would drive through the frozen custard shop later and get herself a turtle sundae.

  “Miss Biggs?”

  Ooey, gooey chocolate topped with salty pecans. Maybe Glenn Relerford would like to share a sundae. She sat up abruptly. Maybe she was totally warped sexually and could get turned on only when she was grieving. She patted back the loose tendrils of her hair. “Hmm?”

  “I’d like to get your father’s phone back to you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Oh? Yes, well. It fell out of his pocket – last night.”

  “I know he fell.” Jasper sniffed back some sudden tears.

  “Look. This doesn’t sound like a good time for you.”

  Jasper took a deep breath. “I’m just tired and hungry. I think I forgot to eat breakfast.”

  “I was going to have you come by the station. But why don’t I meet you downtown for lunch?”

  “Well.” Dream come true or guilty pleasure? So far she had taken no steps toward her divorce from Tim. Maybe she was giving herself a safety net in case her new life didn’t work out. She scrunched a poor bear up in her fist. “I don’t know if I should.”

  “I understand,” Glenn Relerford said. His voice had gotten all stern again.

  Jasper pictured his handsome dark face. Kind of like a younger version of that African American actor who won the Oscar for that movie she didn’t like very much but he was still good. “Oh, oh no! You don’t understand. I would love to have lunch with you but the truth is, I’ve already made plans to meet my sister.”

  “Your sister. Mrs. Swanson.”

 

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