Grace’s reaction startled her. “What is that jackass doing sending you off alone. You’ve only been here two weeks. Take one of the guys with you. Tony!”
Tony, busy out on the floor, demonstrating how easily the drawers of a bureau opened and closed to a customer, looked up, waved, and kept going with his demonstration.
“Why, that lazy little toad! I swear they can read my mind when there’s extra work to do.”
“Grace, Grace. That’s not necessary.” Jasper put a calming hand on Grace’s arm. “Ted said these were really simple. Somebody’s Precious Moments collection and an apartment with a few furniture pieces. I can handle it.”
“Well, you know what your father the philosopher used to say? Have your precious moments now. Don’t hold on to the things.”
“Jimmy said that? Maybe there were things I didn’t know about him.”
“Most of it you wouldn’t want to know,” Grace said. Some customers approached the counter. “Just a minute, you guys. I’ll be right with you.” She took Jasper’s elbow and walked her away from the people. “You say you’re going on that appointment to Ray Clippert’s? Doesn’t that sort of give you the willies? I mean, you gotta remember that it was just about this time of day when Jimmy god rest his goddamned soul went to the Clippert house. And you know what happened to him.”
“Grace! Don’t be silly. Ray Clippert is at Forest Park Nursing Center now. Nothing can happen to me at a nursing home. I’ll be back way before it’s time for the auction.”
“W-e-l-l. Just a goddamn minute, Bobby! I said I’d be right there.”
“Come on, Gracie,” the man at the counter wheedled.
“Jasper, keep your cell phone with you at all times.”
“Great. I’m fine. I’ll do good,” Jasper said, edging out of the office.
“You’ll do great!” Grace called after her. “Now what are you fellas chafin’ at the bit for? Go get ‘em, Jasper!”
“Go get ‘em, Jasper!” the men echoed.
Jasper waved and marched briskly away, shooting out brief “hi’s,” “just fines,” to customers entering the building as she left. Even in the rough world of auctioneering, mutual respect helped soften the edges of human interaction.
Jasper’s two auction look-ats went just as planned. The first one, at a small apartment in a rent-controlled building for seniors, wrenched her heart a bit. A woman no taller than five feet showed her in to her place. It smelled of cauliflower and cabbage and, indeed, there was a pot of soup simmering on the gas range in the kitchenette. The 80ish woman led Jasper into a bedroom piled up with dolls and teddy bears. The Precious Moments collection of black-eyed girl and boy figurines took up the wide windowsill.
Jasper pretended to scrawl on her notepad but there wasn’t anything noteworthy. She broke it to the woman as gently as she could without patronizing her. “Brand name collectibles like this just aren’t bringing much on the auction block. Right now. Uh - Mrs. Sperling.”
The woman’s hunched shoulders straightened a bit. “Then I’ll just have to wait,” she said.
“I’m glad you took this so well,” Jasper said as Mrs. Sperling escorted her to the door.
“Just as well. If I die before the price comes up, they go to my lousy excuse for a daughter-in-law.”
“Well, all righty then.”
Jasper’s next look-at took her to the home of two professors from Forest Grove College. Theirs was a red brick ranch house a few blocks west of campus. It had the appearance of upper middle class respectability. Jasper knew better than to judge by appearances. Inside, the two female professors walked her through the sparsely furnished living room to show her the furniture they wanted to auction. Maybe they had had to sell other things. One woman kept her arm draped over the other’s shoulders while Jasper examined their dining room set. Oh God, she thought, another chance to break people’s hearts. Aloud she said, “Nice Windsor set. Maple. Six chairs.”
“The hutch goes too,” one of the professors said.
“The server, dear.”
“We have the expert right here,” the first professor, the taller one said. “Hutch or server?” she asked.
Jasper hesitated. She took a deep breath and said, “Hutch, server, buffet, or sideboard. See the thing is, it may not matter what you call it. It’s not part of the original set. See – look really close at the finish. It’s different.”
“Maybe the family who had it before used the wrong finish,” the shorter professor said.
“That would be your family, dear.”
“There she goes again – always about my family. I’m sociology. She’s art. They always told me to watch out.”
Jasper stepped between them. “And the chairs – they don’t really match the table,” she said.
The woman turned their mutual glower upon Jasper. They were not pleased.
She backed toward the door. “What’s more important than any of that is that formal dining room sets are not selling so well right now. Not at our auction house.”
“I knew we should’ve tried that new guy I saw in the shopping news,” the art professor said.
“He auctions on line,” the sociologist said.
Jasper’s hand reached found the doorknob behind her. “Good, good idea. Well, ladies, wish I could’ve helped.” She edged out the door. Her cell phone went off with Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition of the Cole Porter song, “Love for Sale.” The auction house was calling.
“Jasper here,” she said.
“Everything okay out there, baby girl?” Grace asked.
“Ladies! Bosh. Did you hear that?” Jasper heard from inside the half-opened door.
“Peachy,” she told Grace.
Jasper hurried down the front sidewalk and escaped into her car. Grace wanted to know where she was and whether she had found anything auctionable. “Nope. Just as predicted,” Jasper said. The professors emerged onto their front porch. Jasper waved cheerfully at their angry faces and accelerated away. “Whew!”
“You sure you’re okay?” Grace asked.
“Oh, you bet. I’m off now to the nursing home.”
“Guess you can’t get into any trouble there.”
“Trouble and I are not even on speaking terms,” Jasper said with a pseudo laugh.
“Be right there. Gotta go, Jasper. Hurry back,” Grace said. The phone went silent in Jasper’s hand. She laid it on the seat next to her and focused on driving across town to the Forest Park Nursing Center. All she had to do was head west to the river and then turn right. Ten minutes max
A half hour later, Jasper finally pulled into a parking stall at the nursing home. “Love for Sale” was coming from her cell phone again. She didn’t want to explain that her lousy sense of direction had reared its awkward head again. She left the cell phone singing away on the passenger seat, grabbed her clipboard with the auction contract clamped to the front, and headed into the one-story blond brick building.
The resident directory posted inside the front door said that R. Clippert was in SE 3. Jasper had to ask only three uniformed assistants for help before arriving at SE 3. She used the brass knocker to tap out Shave and a Haircut.
“Nobody’s home!” a gruff voice shouted from inside
“Mr. Clippert! It’s me, Jasper Biggs from the auction house.”
“Don’t want any. Go away”
An older woman using a cane to make her way slowly down the hall paused next to Jasper. She rapped on the door with the curved head of her cane. “Ray Clippert? There’s a nice young lady out here wants to talk to you.” To Jasper she said, “You look okay.” The woman opened the door. “Go on in,” she told Jasper. “He won’t bite.”
“You interfering old biddy!” the man inside shouted. He was lying down on the sofa, a brown and orange afghan draped over his legs. “Well, get yourself in here, girly. You want to give me a deathly chill?”
Jasper stepped inside. The air smelled of urine and moth balls. “This won’t take long, Mr. Clipper
t,” she said. She hoped that was true.
Ray Clippert struggled up to a seated position. Jasper hurried over so he wouldn’t grow any gruffer.
Jasper perched atop a short stack of newspapers on a stepstool. “I brought the auction contract for you to sign.”
“Oh, talk to my daughter. She’s another busybody. She’ll know what to tell you to do with your paperwork.”
“It’s not much. She doesn’t have Power of Attorney, so you have to sign this yourself or we can’t go ahead with the auction.”
“Who says I want to go ahead with the auction?”
“Why, don’t you want to make some money for yourself? This can’t be cheap living here and keeping your house too.”
“Money, money, money. It’s all you females think about. Fee Males. Get it?”
Don’t take it personally, don’t take it personally, don’t take it personally, Jasper told herself. “The idea is to make money for you.”
“You’re not doing this from the Godness of your heart, missy.”
“What?”
“Bear in mind that I’ve still got my balls and my bearings. Ball bearings. Get it?”
Jasper rose from her uncomfortable perch. “Well, I’ll see you this afternoon. I guess we can sign the paperwork at your old house.”
“Old house. Old man.” Ray Clippert chuckled and shook his head. “Where do you think you’re going? Ain’t got much of a sense of humor, do you?”
“I’ll laugh later,” Jasper said.
“Hah. You got a funny bone after all. Hand over that contract, why don’t you, and we’ll get ‘er signed. Got a pencil?”
“How ‘bout this pen?”
***
As she pulled out of the nursing home’s parking lot, Jasper’s mind pondered the strangeness of her new life. Ever since she had left Rev. Tim back in the church basement, her determination to change into a stronger woman who no longer bowed to goofball authority figures had been challenged. Jimmy. Dead now. Ready Teddy, always willing to win over women whenever they were foolish enough to agree. Mary Clippert. Her father Ray.
A red car pulling into the parking lot nearly clipped her left fender. The dark-haired woman behind the wheel gave her the finger. Speak of the devil! Mary Clippert herself. The woman had her gaze focused straight ahead so Jasper tucked her chin and drove away. Safely out of view, Jasper headed south on Riverside Road and pulled into the empty parking lot that faced the walking path. She tossed her purse into the back seat and covered it with an empty trash bag, left the auction contract on the front seat, then got out and admired the river and a flock of grazing geese. Maybe a nice long walk would clear her head. She headed down the path. A little voice in her head nagged her about leaving the car unlocked. Come on. It’s safe. I’m safe, she told it. The voice ordered her back to the car.
Jasper stomped her foot like a little girl. Some strong woman, she chided herself. She couldn’t even stand up to herself. She returned to the car and had just opened the door to push the lock button, the electronic locks having quit working long ago, when a cherry-colored car pulled into the lot, then raced on by. Jasper stared after it. It was going too fast for her to make out the driver. A shiver went up her spine. She climbed inside her car and when her shaking subsided, drove with concentration back to the auction house.
Chapter 22
When Cookie saw the red car parked in front of the alley garage behind the Clippert house, she scowled. “Is someone else going to be here?” she asked Jasper.
“Shouldn’t you have sensed that?”
“I knew you’d say that.”
Jasper drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She drove slowly by, the twins together in Jasper’s serviceable clunker which for once was cooperating and did nothing more than squeal mildly whenever they made a right turn.
“So?”
“It’s like this,” Jasper said. “The Clipperts are our clients and I had a responsibility to tell them when we’d be doing this clearing. They have a vested interest, after all.”
“You’re too responsible. You’re like, responsible to a fault.”
Jasper said, “Am not.” She headed the car down the gravel alley. She made a right squeal turn, then another, so that they pulled up in front of the Clippert place and stopped the car with a jerk.
“I don’t need whiplash today, thank you very much,” Cookie said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “And you are too too responsible for your own good. It’s like you’re trying to make up for Jimmy’s irresponsibilities.”
“Yeah, well, sorry I’m such a compensator or whatever. But it’s tough enough finding my way through all the auctioneering stuff and putting up with Ready Teddy and everybody without my own sister turning against me.” She glanced sideways at Cookie. Sure enough, she could see a smile break out on her sister’s face. Overstating things generally broke through any temporary frostiness between them.
Cookie snorted. “Oh, p-l-e-a-s-e.” She reached over and took Jasper’s right hand. “You look just right today, by the way. I like that rosy colored top on you. It brings out the pink in your cheeks.” She squeezed Jasper’s hand, then let go and guided her through a deep breathing routine. “Let’s do some chakra clearing too – especially since it might get a little complicated inside with them in there.”
Jasper glanced toward the house. She saw the front curtains twitch. Let them wait. We’re early anyway.
Cookie went into professional pre-clearing mode. “Surround yourself with the white and gold light of universal love and divine protection. Know that you and the universe are one.” Cookie opened her eyes and glanced toward Jasper.
Jasper nodded and took a deep breath.
“I think we should go in after all,” Cookie said. “I’d better save the rest for the Clipperts.”
Lord knows they need it, thought Jasper.
The twins got out of the car and eased their doors shut. Jasper’s door squealed, Cookie’s merely squeaked.
They paused on the front porch. Jasper had been back since Jimmy’s death, helping clear out the physical clutter. Cookie hadn’t. Jasper vowed to be extra sensitive to her sister’s sensitivities about their stepfather’s death now while it was Cookie’s turn to clear away any psychic remnants – Jimmy’s or any of the generations of working class families who had lived here in the house’s hundred year old history. A haunted house? Disembodied entities? Ghosts? That kind of thing. Or, rather, those kind of people and that kind of place.
“Ready?” Jasper asked.
“Always.”
Suddenly the door flung open. Jasper jumped. Cookie didn’t move. Mary Clippert stood there. Today she wore a red suit with black cowl-neck silky blouse and a big costume jewelry daisy pinned to her lapel. Jasper thought it was an odd outfit for communing with the dead, imagining that people on the Other Side might be hyper sensitive to bright colors and overstated fashion but maybe Mary Clippert wasn’t really a believer and just wanted to be there in an official capacity. “Come in, ladies.”
Jasper and Cookie entered the living room. An old musty smell permeated the now bare space. Biggs Auction had paid their regular cleaning crew to come through after the pick-up and scrub the place down, but Jasper could tell they had just lazed through a hasty wash, dust and vacuum. She’d have to talk to Ted about that. Yeah, right, he wouldn’t care. They were probably old drinking buddies he’d promised the work to.
Someone cleared her throat. “Miss Biggs?”
“Is your father here?” Jasper asked.
“He couldn’t make it,” Mary said. “The home said he had an incident earlier today.”
I thought it best if we did this on our own.”
“An incident? Gosh, I hope I didn’t push him too hard. What kind of incident – did they say? “
“You pushed him?” Mary’s voice had a slightly hysterical edge to it.
Cookie stepped between Mary and Jasper. “We’re ready to get started now.”
Jasper gave her sister a
small, grateful smile. Cookie looked quite the professional psychic medium, Jasper thought proudly, in flowing purple slacks and a turquoise sweater that made her blonde hair glow like a halo. Or was that an actual halo? Her sister wore a silk scarf of lilac and teal and dangling silver and amethyst earrings. “Just stay relaxed and receptive,” Cookie said. “Let me do the talking. If you have a question for anyone who shows up, tell me and I’ll ask them.”
Cookie continued on in the soothing tones of her profession, “First we’ll focus on the lower chakra. Just breathe in a beautiful white gold light to the area between your sit bones.”
Jasper knew what that meant. She had done yoga back in the basement hall of the Truman Free Church. The first chakra. Basic survival.
“Let the golden white light cleanse your root chakra. Breathe in. Breathe out. Now let a lovely rose-colored light, a red light, fill the area. “Then to the reproductive area.”
Under Cookie’s guidance, Jasper worked her way up the chakras, cleansing with the white and gold light, then filling each of the energy centers with its own particular color. Orange for the second chakra, yellow for the solar plexus, green and pink for the heart, turquoise for the throat chakra, bright blue for the third eye in the middle of the forehead, and finally violet for the crown chakra. Jasper was pretty much able to concentrate in spite of Mary Clippert’s presence. That was the problem in tuning your own psyche: you started tuning in to other people’s hidden energies. Jasper sensed a lot of heat coming from Mary’s direction and she didn’t want to get burned. She took a step closer to Cookie.
The Case of the Angry Auctioneer (Auction House Mystery Series Book 1) Page 17
