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

by Sherry Blakeley

  Sheila returned. “Leave the woman alone,” she told Glenn. “Here, honey. You’ve been through enough today without having to worry about this guy’s intentions.”

  Jasper sipped some water. That and Sheila’s presence seemed to do the trick. Jasper dribbled some of the water onto her hands, wiped them together, then down her slacks. Did Glenn have intentions toward her? Intentions was such an old-fashioned word.

  “So you and your sister and Ms. Clippert were all inside the house conducting this séance, you were saying.” Glenn crossed his arms over his solid toned abs. He was all business now.

  What was going on here that she would notice his abs? At a time like this. Was she harboring intentions toward him? She took another sip. “Well not a séance exactly. More like a clearing, I think that’s the right technical term when you’re checking to see what if any or which of any ghost or disembodied spirits, I guess you could say, are still hanging around, so you can ask them, or in some cases, order them to leave. You could check with my sister.”

  Officer Sheila patted Jasper’s shoulder.

  “Whatever,” Glenn said. “Go on. Where were you in the house?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “On the ground floor?”

  “Yes.”

  “All together. All three of you there together?”

  “That’s right.” Jasper thought about it. “Mary met us there when Cookie and I arrived.”

  “On the first floor?”

  “The front door’s on the first floor,” Jasper said. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic.”

  “You’re just overwrought,” Sheila said.

  “Yes, yes I am,” Jasper said. “You’re being very kind to me.”

  Glenn said, “You’re fine. Just go on with your story.”

  But Jasper was having a hard time concentrating. That remark from Sheila about not worrying about Glenn’s intentions had set her to worrying about his intentions. Why was he sitting so close to her with his knee nearly touching hers, for instance, while Sheila the other cop stood several feet away? Jasper adjusted her chair a few inches away from Glenn.

  “Are you nervous, Miss Biggs?”

  And why this “Miss Biggs” stuff all of a sudden? “You were crowding me a little bit, that’s all,” Jasper said.

  “It’s not a very large room,” he said.

  “I’ve been in tighter spots,” Jasper said.

  “Oh, yeah?” Glenn, it turned out, was one of those people who could raise a single eyebrow at a time.

  “Oh, brother,” Sheila said. “Jasper, Miss Biggs, I think the others are done. Why don’t you and your sister get out of here and get some rest.”

  “What about Mary? She’s my, our client, I guess,” Jasper said.

  “We’ll look after Miss Clippert,” Sheila said.

  Jasper got wearily to her feet.

  “Sorry to put you on overtime,” Glenn said.

  “Couldn’t be helped,” Jasper said. She turned to go. Cookie stood waiting in the now open doorway.

  “Hey, Jasper,” Glenn said in a softer tone. “You stay out of trouble now, okay? I don’t want nothin’ happening to my one and only lady auctioneer.”

  Jasper felt a quiver in her stomach. Was this flirting what he was doing?

  “Enough is enough,” Sheila said, giving Glenn a stern look. “You get out of here, hon,” she told Jasper. “Take her home,” she said to Cookie. “You’ve both had a long day.”

  Cookie and Jasper trailed out of the police station arm in arm. “You know, I’m pretty sure he likes you,” Cookie said.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s not allowed to,” Jasper responded.

  “I thought he was separated.”

  “Separated is as separated does, I guess.” Jasper yawned.

  “What does that expression mean anyway? I’ve never understood that ‘is as does’ thing.”

  “I just like the way it sounds. Kind of cynical, you know. Worldly maybe?”

  “Cute. That’s what I have to say for you, Sis. You are cute.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Want me to drive?” Cookie asked. “I can drop you off and get you back your car tomorrow.”

  Jasper was tempted, but something inside her rallied. She slapped her cheeks to wake herself up. “Nope. You be the passenger. I’m tired of just going along for the ride.”

  “You made a little joke there.” They climbed into the car. “Just as I said, you are a cutie, Jasper.”

  “You too, Sister Mine.”

  Chapter 25

  The next morning at Cookie’s office, Medium Rare, the twins relaxed as they went over the details of the aborted clearing the night before at the Clippert’s house. The discovery of Ray Clippert’s body had upset everything and everybody all over again.

  Cookie sat with her feet tucked under her on one of her rose-colored wingback chairs. Jasper lay on the Oriental rug with her own bare feet propped up on the other wingback. It was a posture she’d learned in yoga classes in the church hall, and it definitely eased the tension out of her sore back.

  “What I don’t get,” Cookie was saying, “is why I didn’t catch on right away that it was Ray Clippert.”

  “You mean the other ghost.”

  “Spirit,” Cookie corrected. “I mean, not enough to recognize him for who he was. Darn it. I hate it when I don’t get it exact.”

  “Don’t be silly. I mean, don’t be so hard on yourself, Sis. You did say it wasn’t just Jimmy who had showed up, right?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “You said something about another father figure stepping forth, didn’t you?” Jasper let go of her neck muscles so her head could loll back against the floor. Now that she was settled in near the person in the world with whom she could totally relax, her memories of the scene appeared vividly in her mind. “You knew that some other guy was waiting in line behind Jimmy.”

  “You’re right.” Cookie resettled herself in the chair. “I did see another somebody, another man, stepping forward. Keep going, keep going, Sis. The more you say aloud, the more it comes back to me. When I go into medium mode, sometimes I don’t remember much of it afterward.”

  Jasper laughed. “I’m sure you and I were just about the best witnesses the police have ever interviewed.”

  Cookie groaned. “Yeah. They won’t be calling on us anytime soon. At least I hope not. Anyway, I do remember another man. But why couldn’t I tell who it was? You’d think that since he hadn’t been dead all that long that he’d want to announce who he was right away.”

  “Wait a minute now,” Jasper protested. “You only had long enough for that wind to blow through the room. That was just a few seconds. Besides, aren’t you the one who told me that people who’ve just arrived on the other side can be pretty confused about what’s going on?”

  “Well, yes, that’s true. Except we don’t know for sure how long he’d been dead.”

  “I saw him a few hours before at the nursing home. And Mary saw him after that.”

  “Are you sure you trust her to tell us the truth?” Cookie asked.

  “I saw her. At least I saw her car pull in. She didn’t see me, I didn’t think. And then, I think I saw her just a little bit later down at the river. She must’ve seen me then, but she didn’t stop.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I don’t think that means much,” Jasper reflected. “She’s not the friendliest person but that doesn’t make her a liar.”

  “I need a manicure,” Cookie said.

  “So what did this guy look like? Or what was his personality like? Any clues?” Jasper asked.

  Cookie picked the nail polish off one of her pink-edged toes. “And a pedicure.” She closed her eyes. “He was kind of tall. And…” her voice trailed off. “Kind of basic, I guess you could say.”

  “Basic,” Jasper repeated. She scooted her bottom closer to the chair and rolled her neck from side to side. This was almost like a do-it-yourself massage. More tension eased out of her
body.

  “Yeah, basic. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead – “

  “Not you!” Jasper teased.

  Cookie laughed a little. “Not to say that he was stupid, but maybe someone not used to discussing the fine points of anything.” She pursed her lips in concentration. “Not used to discussing his own psychology, that’s for sure.”

  “That sounds like you’re getting more information on him now. Are you tuned in to him right now?” When Cookie didn’t respond, Jasper rolled onto her side and sat up.

  Cookie’s eyes were closed. Was it Jasper’s imagination or was Cookie’s blondish hair doing that halo shimmer thing again?

  “He’s here now. Yes, it is Ray Clippert.”

  “Where? Where exactly is he?” Jasper looked nervously around the room.

  Cookie giggled. She opened her eyes. “He’s standing right next to you,” she said.

  Jasper’s arms goose-pimpled from wrists to shoulders. She didn’t know if that was from the ghost, the spirit, of Ray Clippert or just her own nervousness. How did Cookie stay calm in the midst of talking to dead people?

  “He says there’s nothing to be afraid of. Uh-huh. But he still likes to scare women a little. Behave yourself, Ray, or I’ll send you away!” Cookie said.

  Jasper felt the everyday warmth of the room envelop her. The chills went away. “Ask him how he died,” Jasper whispered.

  “Now, now, it’s okay,” Cookie said. “We don’t have to rush things, Mr. Clippert. Okay, Ray.”

  “Did I scare him?” Jasper asked.

  Cookie kept her eyes closed. “You came to us. What is it you want to say?” She spoke soothingly in a way Jasper had heard her speak to her daughter and son when they were little. Cookie had transplanted skills from her old job of raising children to her new one of soothing spirits so that they could communicate with the living. “He’s saying the word, secret. Or maybe secrets.”

  “Secrets,” Jasper repeated. “What secrets?”

  Cookie’s eyes flew open. “He’s gone.” She yawned. “He just kept saying the word. Then he left. Either he didn’t have the energy to stay here any longer, or he wasn’t ready to divulge.” Cookie stretched and stood up. “Want some coffee or maybe tea?” She headed for the kitchenette at the back of her office.

  Jasper followed. “What do you suppose he meant? Coffee for me please unless you have some Lady Grey.”

  “Fresh out of Mrs. Grey today. I’ll make us some French roast. I need strong.”

  “Strong is good.”

  Cookie got a bag of ground coffee out of the small refrigerator and reached out a coffee filter from the cupboard.

  Jasper leaned against the counter. “I just wish he had finished saying what he wanted to say.”

  “I guess he said all he could for today,” Cookie said, pausing in mid-scoop. “I have a feeling we’ll hear from him again.”

  As Jasper sat next to her sister a few minutes later sipping from a hot mug of strong coffee, she wondered just how and when they would hear from the dead Ray Clippert. And when they did, what exactly would he say? What secret or secrets was he going to share?

  Chapter 26

  That night at home in her apartment on Hickory Lane, Jasper felt restless. The cigarette smoke wafting upward from the O’Neils didn’t help. At least she hadn’t run into Mrs. O’Neil lately, and she still had not had the dubious pleasure of meeting the Mister. She got up from bed to pee, and narrowly avoided stepping on Proxy the kitten. The little guy was a small black shadow that Jasper wasn’t used to having around. He had been with her now for three days ever since she brought him home from the vet where he had been neutered. The chip showed that he had been adopted from the county animal shelter which released the adoptive family’s name and phone number to the vet. The family was moving and did not want the kitten back. ”You’re in your forever home now, little guy, so no worries.” Proxy was such a tough little guy that he didn’t seem to notice his missing equipment nor need any extra time off from his kittenish duties following the surgery.

  Sitting on the toilet, Jasper scooped up the kitten and set him on her lap. She thought his purr sounded like a miniature power tool from the old Milwaukee Electric Tool Corp. “Good lord, I’m really getting into antiques, huh, kitty?” The little guy jumped onto the vanity. “Ouch. You’re due for a toenail clipping, pal.” She reached for the nail clippers she had put in a small basket by the sink. She pulled her nightgown down and set Proxy back on her lap. He rested on his rump so that all four paws were presented for clipping. She snipped off the sharp pointy end of each nail, avoiding getting too close to the sensitive quick, as the vet had instructed her. It was all over and done with in 30 seconds. Jasper kissed the top of Proxy’s head. “I think you are an unusual cat,” she said. He mrowed loudly in response.

  She and Proxy were tucked back in bed, the kitten insisting on sleeping under the blanket between Jasper’s ankles, when her cell phone sounded with Leroy Vandyke’s “The Auctioneer Song.” She felt glad she had substituted the new ringtone for the default Halleluiah Chorus of her past life. But still. She grabbed up the phone. 4:15 a.m! Unknown number, the phone said. Should she answer? The trouble with cell phones was that you had to make up your mind in a hurry. She hesitated too long. The song ceased. Jasper set the phone down on the 1960s TV tray she had gotten herself at the auction for use as a bedside table. She switched off the lamp, a garish candy red one from the 1950s that had made her laugh when she won the proxy bid for it. She wasn’t laughing now. She lay in the dark for a couple minutes wondering who had called her in the middle of the night. Then she grabbed up her phone. The caller had left a message. She dialed voicemail and tapped in her password.

  “Better keep yourself to yourself,” a harsh voice said. And that was that.

  Man, woman, boy, girl, machine? Jasper couldn’t tell. Even under her soft blanket with the kitten nestled in, she shivered. “Here, Proxy,” she said in a small shaky voice. “Come visit your mama. She needs you.” She coaxed the cat up and snuggled it next to her chest. It was snoring lightly in just a few seconds. Jasper held it close as she lay awake wondering and worrying about the menacing call. Somebody else was awake and worried enough to go to the trouble of a phone call in the middle of the night. Someone who had her number.

  The next morning Jasper still felt uneasy. She considered phoning that nice Ginny Gardener next door, who had offered to help her in any way she could, for cat-sitting services. But that would mean the older lady would have to climb the slopes of Mount Smoky to reach Jasper’s apartment. Or Proxy would have to go next door. Jasper didn’t trust the active kitten to stay out of trouble and avoid destroying her neighbor’s house or getting himself hurt.

  Jasper got out the harness and leash she had purchased for Proxy. “Let’s give this a go, huh, buddy? Want to take a walk?” Twenty minutes later after several minor wrestling matches with the cat, interspersed with games of catch-me-if-you-can, the little black cat was safely secured in his red sequined harness and leash. He looked up at her with his huge green eyes as if to say, Now what? Jasper scooped him up and carried him down the stairs, tucking his head under her arm to protect him from the cigarette smoke. Stairs were too much for the first time anyway. He could learn to walk on his leash outside.

  Proxy gave Jasper her first lesson in how to walk a cat. She learned how to go whatever direction the cat decided to go. She learned that she should wait patiently while the cat sat and sniffed the air. And she learned that walking a cat was no way for a human to get any exercise.

  She was sitting on the sidewalk a couple feet behind Proxy who was studying a crack waiting for ants or other small prey to appear when a shadow momentarily blocked out the sunshine.

  “Hey, neighbor. Taking Fido for a stroll I see.” Glenn Relerford squatted down next to them. Proxy pounced on the handsome policeman’s bare knee. He was wearing black running shorts and matching muscle shirt. He had the muscles for it. “Tough guy, eh?” He gently to
ok the kitten by the scruff of his neck and flipped him over on his back. Proxy extended what little claws he had left and attacked the policeman’s big hand. Their wrestling match was a delight to Jasper.

  “Getting some exercise?” Jasper asked. “You look like you’re dressed for it.”

  “Naw, this? I can do this in my sleep.” Glenn’s grin was infectious.

  Jasper laughed. “I mean, you going for a run? Or something?” His stare was so straight-on from his chocolate eyes into her hazel ones that Jasper turned her attention back to the kitty. She said, “Quit beating up the neighbor. He’s a cop. You can get in trouble.” The kitten yowled mightily. Jasper picked him up by his harness, set him on his four feet, and patted his tail end. She and Glenn got to their feet. Maybe Glenn could give her some advice on how seriously to take the call from last night. Annoying, dangerous or somewhere in between?

  “Never seen anyone walk a cat before,” Glenn said. “You get dragged much?”

  This guy really gave her a case of the giggles. “No-o-o. Not much.”

  “I’m just out enjoying the sun. Might take a walk myself. Care to join me?” He glanced behind him and at the windows of the neighbors.

  “Must be tough, I mean being the only policeman in the neighborhood and all.”

  “And all is right, lady. You can say it, I know what color I am. Compared to all you chalkcasians, I’m more like the blackboard in this classroom of life.”

  “Wow, a philosopher too.”

  “I practice in my spare time. Come on, let’s go over by the cemetery.”

  “But the cat…”

  “Bring him along,” Glenn said.

  Jasper leaned down to pick up Proxy and he jumped onto her shoulder. “Wow, did you see that? This is one smart little kitty, yes he is.” The kitten purred into her ear.

  “Enough with the baby talk now. You two can do that when you’re alone again. C’mon,” Glenn said.