Sell Low, Sweet Harriet

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by Sherry Harris


  “What you did was save me from hurting a man I would never want to hurt.”

  That made me pause. It relieved a little of the pressure that had been gripping me since I’d seen the story. But this was Mike. He wasn’t necessarily a reliable narrator. “Never want to, but would if you had to?” I asked.

  “No. Don’t twist my words. I liked Jimmy. I told you he was good with computers. It’s how he got the name ‘the Chip.’ He managed to hack my security system. Scared me enough to get out of town.”

  “I got all that. Now he’s dead in the harbor.”

  “If I’d done it he wouldn’t have been found.”

  That wasn’t comforting.

  “But I didn’t do it. He must have messed with the wrong person’s computer. Found something that put him in danger.” Mike stopped and turned toward me. “Go home. This isn’t your fight. I’ll look into it for the sake of his sister. And I’ll let you know what I find out. If I find out anything.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  “I swear.” Mike held up his hand like he was giving an oath. “And look where we are.”

  We stood in front of a Catholic church.

  “I wouldn’t lie to anyone here.”

  My phone buzzed. A text from Seth asking if we were still meeting for dinner at DiNapoli’s. I was going to be late. I sent him a text saying so.

  “If I find out different I’m going to the police,” I said.

  “You won’t. I promise.” Mike nodded to a couple who walked by. “It won’t be easy for me to find an answer to this. But I will. Just don’t expect a call tomorrow or even next week.”

  I gave him my best intimidating stare, which on a scale of one to threatening was probably a minus five. Then I walked off.

  Chapter Forty-One

  On Saturday, the day of the sale, I woke up earlier than normal. The weather had been warming. It looked like we’d hit the January thaw. That was good news for the sale. I’d been worried about a blizzard hitting. What did my mom always say? Worrying never solved anything. I needed to practice that more often.

  I snuggled up against Seth. My world was happy again. He turned and threw an arm around me and kissed my neck.

  “I have to get up,” I said. It would be much more fun to stay here with Seth.

  Seth groaned. “I don’t want to get up, but I know it’s the day of the big sale. I’ll drop by if I can.”

  “You can stay. Go back to sleep.” I turned to face him. His dark eyes were sleepy and beautiful at the same time. “I love you.” There. I did it. I said it first and it felt fantastic instead of scary.

  He traced a finger across my cheek and a slow smile lighted his face. “I love you back.”

  I jumped out of bed to avoid the rush of emotions sweeping through me. I guess I wasn’t completely over being scared. “I’ll make coffee.”

  Seth nodded and closed his eyes. “Scaredy cat.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  * * *

  I unlocked the front door at eight to let customers in. Charlie sat in the living room behind a locked case with the jewelry and some other valuables in it. I’d hired high school students to man the exits. Until the other day I’d been counting on Zoey to help out, but ended up asking Eleanor and Nasha to come work along with Harriet. Eleanor was in the basement. Nasha and Harriet would roam and keep an eye on things.

  People streamed in. I’d put an ad in the local paper to counter Zoey’s ad. I had mentioned in the ad that Charlie would be here answering questions about the jewelry. The prices were high for many of the pieces and I wasn’t sure they would sell. We’d decided that we weren’t going to go below ten percent of the value that Charlie had appraised them at. There would be other opportunities to sell them. In fact, I think Charlie might be interested in some of them for the family store.

  Harriet, who showed up wearing all black, was working it. I didn’t have much time to watch her because I was busy too. But Harriet had a way of making people happy they were paying more. If this kept up Jeannette would be thrilled with the results.

  Pellner had come by and I’d given him the valentine and cobalt vase. At ten Awesome showed up.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I saw the ad about the jewelry,” Awesome said. He sounded nervous.

  “I don’t think there are any men’s rings here.” I looked at his paler than normal face. I grabbed his arm and pulled him close. “Are you looking for a woman’s ring?”

  Awesome glanced around before he nodded.

  I dropped my voice to almost a whisper. “An engagement ring?”

  “Yes. Will you help me pick a ring out? I didn’t want just a run-of-the-mill mall ring. Stella’s too special. She deserves something unique.”

  I squealed and hugged him. “This is why you’ve been so cranky?”

  “Yes. What if she says no?”

  “She won’t, you big idiot. Come over here.” I dragged him over to where Charlie sat and quickly filled her in.

  Awesome studied the rings. I waited impatiently beside him. Trying not to jiggle around and distract him. Charlie took different ones out and told him about them. She handed him a blue sapphire with diamonds on each side. Then a simple triangle-cut diamond in gold. He handed each back and pointed to another ring.

  “What about that one?” he asked.

  “Good eye,” Charlie said. She handed him the ring, which looked small in his big hands. “This emerald is in a platinum setting with a halo of diamond accents. Milgrain lines every edge.”

  “What are milgrain lines?” Awesome asked. His brows were pulled together in concentration.

  “Milgrain is derived from the French mille grain, which translates to ‘a thousand grains.’ It’s a close-set row of metal beads used as a border. I’m sure you’ve seen it before and just didn’t notice.”

  Awesome shook his head and smiled. “I haven’t paid a lot of attention to rings until recently. What do you think, Sarah? Is this one special enough for Stella?”

  “I love it.” Tears pushed at my eyes. “I think Stella will too. When are you going to ask her?”

  “We’re going to Maine next weekend. I rented a house on the coast. I’ll do the whole candlelight dinner thing.” He stared down at the ring for a moment. “How’s that sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  I heard the front door open and more people moved into the living room. I turned, my eyes popped, and I turned back to Awesome.“Awesome,” I whispered, “Stella just walked in. With her mom. And aunts.” I’d forgotten she told me this was one garage sale she wouldn’t miss.

  Awesome gritted his jaw. He hadn’t had an easy relationship with the family. “I’ll take it,” he said to Charlie.

  I was trying to think how I could run interference. Get them to head in another direction, but it was too late. They had spotted him.

  “Nathan, what are you doing here?” Stella asked as she came up behind him.

  Awesome turned and dropped to one knee. Stella stared down at him in shock. Her mom and aunts clustered behind her. Everyone who was milling around stopped what they were doing to watch.

  “Stella, I know I’m not perfect. There’s that whole thing about me being a Yankees fan living in Red Sox country.” He grinned at Stella and then her mom and aunts. He refocused on Stella, his expression serious. “And I’m a cop. Being a cop’s wife isn’t easy.”

  Stella put her hands to her mouth.

  “I’m a lot of other things too. But I’m also the kind of man who looks for a reason to stay instead of looking for a reason to go.”

  Stella nodded, but kept her hands over her mouth. Her olive skin looked pale.

  “And I certainly didn’t intend to do this at one of Sarah’s garage sales. But I love you. Will you marry me?” He held up the ring.

  It seemed like everyone in the room was holding their breath. We waited for one moment, then two. Stella finally pulled her hands from her mouth.

 
“Yes. Of course, I will marry you. Yes.”

  Awesome jumped up, grabbed Stella, and swung her around while kissing her. Then he put her down and put the ring on her shaking finger. He looked over at her mom and aunts a little warily.

  They rushed forward.

  “We’ll have to convert him to the Red Sox,” one aunt murmured.

  “And burn his Yankees hat,” the other aunt said.

  “Welcome to the family,” Stella’s mom said.

  The room broke out into cheers and congratulations. Jeannette found a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator and popped it open. I grabbed champagne glasses off the kitchen table, price tags and all. We stretched the bottle as far as it would go.

  “To the happy couple,” I said, holding up my glass, tears in my eyes.

  “Here, here,” everyone answered.

  Winter Garage Sale Tips

  Want to have a garage sale in the middle of a Northern winter? It can be done, but there are factors to consider.

  Where to have it? Think about your options:

  1. You could hold it in your garage with a space heater or two (use extreme care if you use space heaters) to keep the space warm. If you can’t move everything out of your garage, divide it with sheets, or throw sheets over things that aren’t for sale.

  2. Get together with neighbors and friends. Find a public space to use, whether it’s a neighborhood community center or a church that is willing to let you use a room.

  3. Don’t have it in your house! I’ve seen this done and the risk of having strangers traipsing around outweighs the reward. (It’s one thing to have an estate sale when the occupants are moved out and have taken their personal items with them.) My only exception to having it inside your home is if you have a room with a separate entrance and people to guard the access to the rest of your house.

  How to deal with winter weather:

  1. While forecasts are unpredictable, watch for a window of good weather and get the word out quickly. This is harder to do if you use a public space.

  2. Make sure all sidewalks and the driveway are clear of snow and ice.

  3. Be prepared to cancel if necessary.

  What are the advantages of a winter garage sale?

  1. Little to no competition.

  2. Garage sale fanatics (guilty, raising hand) are itching to get out there.

  3. You are ahead on your spring cleaning so you can get out there and enjoy spring!

  If all of the above is too daunting, consider doing an online garage sale.

  Keep reading for a special excerpt of

  LET’S FAKE A DEAL,

  a Sarah Winston Garage Sale Mystery

  by Sherry Harris!

  SHE’S GOT THE GOODS . . .

  As a former military spouse, Sarah Winston’s learned a little about organizing, packing, and moving. Her latest project sounds promising: a couple of tech-industry hipsters, newly arrived in her Massachusetts town, who need to downsize. Unfortunately, when Sarah tries to sell their stuff, she discovers it’s all stolen—and she’s the unwitting fence.

  BUT SARAH’S PROBLEMS

  ARE JUST BEGINNING

  Michelle, an old friend of Sarah’s from the Air Force base, is in line for a promotion—but not everyone is happy about it, and she’s been hit with an anonymous discrimination complaint. When one of the men she suspects is behind the accusations turns up dead in Michelle’s car, Sarah needs to clear Michelle’s name—as well as her own for selling hot merchandise. And she’ll have to do it while also organizing a cat lady’s gigantic collection of feline memorabilia, or they’ll be making room for Sarah in a jail cell . . .

  Look for LET’S FAKE A DEAL, on sale now.

  Chapter One

  Two police cars squealed to a halt at the end of the driveway, lights flashing, front bumpers almost touching. I stared at them and then at the half dozen people milling around the garage sale that had started fifteen minutes ago at 7:30 a.m. Everyone stopped browsing and turned to stare, too. Doors popped open. Three officers jumped out. Unusual in these days of budget cuts and officers riding alone that two were together. I didn’t recognize any of them because I was in Billerica, Massachusetts, just north of where I lived in Ellington.

  “Who’s in charge here?” one of the officers called. His thick shoulders and apparent lack of neck looked menacing against the cloudy late September sky.

  “Me. I’m Sarah Winston.” I gave a little wave of my hand and stepped forward. It seemed like the carpenter’s apron I was wearing with SARAH WINSTON GARAGE SALES embroidered across the front was enough to identify me.

  The officer put out a hand the size of a baseball glove to stop me. “Stay. The rest of you, put everything down and see the two officers over there.”

  What the heck? I stayed put, having had enough experience with policing through my ex-husband’s military and civilian careers in law enforcement to know to listen to this man no matter what I thought. Several people glanced at me but did as they were told. I stood in the center of the driveway all by myself. One by one the people spoke to the police officers and scurried off. Five minutes later it was me and the three cops. Thankfully, it wasn’t hot out here like it would be in August.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Do you have any weapons?”

  “No.” I looked down at the carpenter’s apron tied around my waist. It had four pockets for holding things. “There’s a measuring tape, some cash, and a roll of quarters in the pockets.” Ugh, would he think that was a weapon? I’d heard that if you held a roll in your fist and punched someone, it was as good as brass knuckles. “Oh, and my phone. Do you want to see?”

  “Put your hands on the back of your head and then kneel,” he ordered.

  I started to protest but shut my mouth and complied. Something was terribly wrong. Thank heavens I’d worn jeans today instead of a dress.

  “Now lay face-first on the ground.”

  I looked at the distance between my face and the ground. I couldn’t just flop forward. It would smash my nose. I hunched down as much as I could, rolled to one side, and then onto my stomach. The roll of quarters made their presence known, digging into my already roiling stomach. The driveway was warm and rough against my cheek. A pair of highly polished black boots came into sight. I felt the apron being untied, and I was quickly patted down. Then I was yanked up by the big officer. My carpenter’s apron looked forlorn laying on the driveway.

  “Please tell me, what’s this about?” I asked again.

  The big guy glared down at me, hands on his hips. His left hand was a little closer to his gun than made me comfortable. If this was an effort to intimidate me, it was working on every level.

  “We had a tip that everything being sold here was stolen.”

  Chapter Two

  Cold. Cold like someone had just dumped one of those big icy containers of liquid over my head. The kind they dumped on the winning coach at a football game. Only I wasn’t the winner here. The cold reached through my skin and gripped my heart. “Stolen? That’s not possible.”

  “Is anyone else here?” the officer asked. His nameplate said JONES.

  “Yes. The two people who hired me are in the house.” I pointed, thumb over shoulder, to the large two-story colonial house behind me.

  “Do they have any weapons?”

  “No. No one has weapons. It’s a garage sale. I won’t let anyone sell weapons at the garage sales I run.” I stared at the officer, hoping I’d see some sign in his face that he believed me. I didn’t. “I was hired to run this garage sale. It’s my job.”

  “By who?” The other two officers headed to the house. One stood by the front door and the other went around the side of the house toward the back.

  Why did this guy sound so freaking skeptical? “A young couple. Kate and Alex Green.” I remembered the day we met at a Dunkin’ Donuts in Ellington. I’d instantly labeled them as hipsters with their skinny jeans, flannel shirts, fresh faces, and black-rimmed glas
ses. Kate and Alex had been shy but eager at the same time. Alex had just gotten a job at Tufts University in tech services. “They just moved here from Indiana and didn’t realize how expensive everything is. They owned a huge house in Indiana but once they got here realized they were going to have to downsize.”

  I almost chuckled thinking about their wide-eyed explanation of how the money they got for their home in Indiana would only buy a small cape-style house far from Boston in this area. Sticker shock was a real thing for anyone who moved here.

  “Once they realized they had to get rid of two thirds of their stuff, they decided to reduce their carbon footprint,” I said, “and to buy one of those tiny houses. Me? I couldn’t live in one. Not that my one-bedroom apartment is that big, but those loft bedrooms? You have to climb up some little ladder. The bed’s just a mattress on the floor. How do you make the beds without hitting your head?” I shuddered. “Claustrophobic, don’t you think?”

  Officer Jones stared at me. I was rambling. Just answer the question he asked, I reminded myself.

  “So where did all of this stuff come from?” he asked, sweeping his arm toward the carefully set out tables full of items.

  “From the Greens. They put it all in storage when they got here from Indiana.” I remembered their excited faces as they told me that they’d moved into a one-bedroom apartment in a complex on the north side of Ellington to prepare for their new lifestyle. “I priced everything at the storage unit, and then they moved it over here. This is their friends’ house.” I waved a hand at the house. “And their friends decided to sell some stuff, too. Stuff I didn’t know about.” I pointed to a group of tables that held computers, TVs, and cell phones. Then over to a bunch of furniture. “They priced all of the electronics. Personally, I thought their prices were a little bit high, but I don’t usually deal with electronics.”

 

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