Let's Fake a Deal

by Sherry Harris

  “But nothing. I couldn’t find any connection. Let me zoom the map out. This one is of the whole country, and I did it for the past ten years. I used a different-colored dot for each year. Then I broke down the total number of robberies per year at the bottom.”

  I studied the chart. “We have to assume that not all SuiteSwapz robberies were reported as that. So the numbers each year could be higher.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Some of them could get recorded as just a plain old robbery that had nothing to do with being a SuiteSwapz,” Luke said.

  “Thanks for putting this together.” I appreciated his effort but didn’t see how it helped.

  Luke zoomed back in to just the New England states. “Nothing strikes you?”

  I studied the different locales. Some were touristy areas, but that figured because why else would there be SuiteSwapzs around? “Sorry. I appreciate you taking the time. Will you send it to me? Maybe something will come to me.”

  Luke looked disappointed. “I was hoping that it would be a clue for you.”

  “Do you know which ones were solved? That the robbers were caught?”

  “Great question. I didn’t think of that. I’ll do some more research and then send you the updated map.”

  “Do you want to take the extra pizza home?” I asked.

  Luke stood and rubbed his stomach. “Absolutely.”

  I took the leftover pizza over to the counter to be boxed up. I gave Luke a quick hug and then handed him the pizza. “Thanks,” I said.

  He nodded and waved at Rosalie and Angelo, who just gave him the stink eye. That was progress. At least they didn’t turn their backs to him.

  * * *

  I settled on my couch. I loved my little space. Downstairs I could hear Stella singing something, but I couldn’t make out the words. She used to travel Europe with an opera company and now taught voice at Berklee College of Music in Boston. I propped my feet up on my trunk and started searching for garage sales that started early or ran late tomorrow.

  I mapped them out on my phone. I had a project I was working on for my mom. She had always raved about my aunt’s Christmas wreath made with vintage ornaments. I’d started collecting them and planned to make Mom one for Christmas this year. Not obsessing about my problems was always a good thing.

  The computer bing ed telling me an e-mail had arrived. It was from Luke with the map he’d created attached. Luke sent a note that he’d send an updated version once he had information about which robberies had been solved. Unfortunately, he thought it would take a couple of days to figure it all out.

  There was a knock on my door. I set my computer aside and hurried down the hall to my door. I looked through the peephole. Seth stood there in a light blue V-neck sweater and jeans. My heart accelerated as I opened the door. I’d been so focused I’d forgotten he was coming over. I hoped I looked okay and that I didn’t have pizza in my teeth.

  I smoothed my hair. “I forgot you were coming.”

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked.

  I pulled him in, slammed the door, and pushed him against it. We kissed. When I pulled back, Seth grinned.

  “Does this mean you want me to stay?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Carol and I pulled up to our third garage sale at 7:30 a.m. So far we hadn’t had much luck, but that’s how garage sales were. Some days you hit the jackpot and some days you went home empty-handed. I’d shown my fuzzy picture of the Greens at the first two, but no one had recognized them. We climbed out of my Suburban and went our separate ways. Carol headed over to tables full of children’s clothes, toys, and sports equipment. I headed over to the furniture.

  Seth had asked me to finish decorating his bedroom. I’d done most of his house soon after he’d moved in, but then things had gotten complicated between us and I’d never finished. There was an empty space off to one side of the converted attic. Since I’d first seen the space, I’d envisioned it with bookshelves filled with books and maybe some art, a couple of comfy chairs or a love seat, end tables, and lamps. But I’d yet to find anything that fit that picture or at a price I was willing to pay. It was kind of silly because I could take Seth to any antiques store, and he could buy whatever I chose. But the thrill of the hunt is what made it all so satisfying. It was so much fun spending someone else’s money.

  I found a slim end table that was about a foot and a half long and a half a foot wide. There was a partially raised Japanese scene on top complete with trees and tiny geisha girls. It wasn’t something I’d normally be attracted to, but for some reason it intrigued me. It had one lower bottom shelf that was big enough to hold a plant or some books. I gave it a shake and the sniff test. It was sturdy and didn’t smell. It was light enough that I could carry it with me as I continued to look. The table wasn’t priced, which might work to my advantage.

  I spotted two sets of glass-fronted barrister shelves. The real things, not reproductions. I hurried over and saw that they still had the paper label reading THE GLOBE-WERNICKE CO. LTD., an Ohio company that was probably the most famous for these kinds of shelves. The shelves came in stackable units with a glass front that lifted and slid back. And these looked like they were mahogany.

  I couldn’t believe they hadn’t been snapped up already. I whipped my measuring tape out of my purse and did some quick measurements. Then I double-checked the notes section in my phone to make sure they’d work in Seth’s bedroom. Since it was a converted attic, the ceilings sloped down to five-foot walls. But these would be a perfect fit. The table I’d found would work with them, too. I didn’t think everything had to be a perfect match. In fact, I liked it better when things complemented each other.

  “Excuse me,” I called to a woman who looked like she was running the sale. I didn’t dare leave the shelves unattended. More people had arrived, and a couple was steaming toward me. The shelves were pricey for something selling at a garage sale, which might be why they were still here. But even at three hundred dollars apiece they were a bargain.

  “I’ll take these.” I pointed to the shelves. I didn’t even try to negotiate a better price. I knew they were worth it, and besides the couple heading this way had determined looks on their faces. I didn’t want to be mid-negotiation and have them swoop in with a better offer.

  “Okay,” the woman said. “I hate to part with them, but I’m downsizing.”

  “I know how hard that is.” When CJ and I had first split up, I’d moved from a four-bedroom house on base to my one-bedroom apartment. It had been gut wrenching at the time. Everything had been. “If it makes you feel any better, they are going to a great home and will be well loved.” Loving furniture sounded kind of crazy, but there was something special about a piece with some history to it.

  “Thank you. That does help. They were my grandfather’s. From his law practice. Can you believe my kids don’t want anything to do with them? It made me sad.”

  “The friend I’m buying them for is a lawyer, too. And a very good one.” I didn’t want to mention Seth’s name. She’d probably recognize it because he’d done a lot of good for the county this past year and had frequently been in the news. The other couple showed up. They were both nicely dressed. “We’d like those,” the woman said, pointing at the shelves.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re too late. They just sold,” the owner said.

  The woman looked at the price. “We’ll double what’s she’s paying.”

  Rats. That would tempt anyone.

  The owner shook her head. “They’re sold. You’ll have to talk to her.” She gestured to me.

  The woman looked at me.

  “Sorry. They aren’t for sale,” I said. The woman looked so crestfallen I almost caved. I could double my money right there, but that didn’t seem fair to the owner. And they were perfect for Seth’s room.

  After the couple walked off, I gestured toward the table I’d found. “There’s no price on this.”

&nb
sp; The woman turned the table over, but she didn’t find a price, either. “I’ll throw it in with the shelves since you didn’t hassle me about the price.”

  “Thank you. You don’t have any vintage Christmas ornaments by chance?” I said.

  “Sorry. The few I have are going with me.”

  I stayed by the shelves until Carol was done shopping. She had an armful of clothes and a couple of movies.

  “Look, I found an old version of A Christmas Carol. The kids are just the right age to love it this year.”

  Carol negotiated with the owner for the clothes and movies. I felt like a proud mom watching her. I’d taken her to her first garage sale about a year and a half ago. At the time she didn’t want to ask anyone for a better price, but now she bargained like a pro. After Carol put her stuff in my Suburban, she helped me carry the shelves over and get them in the back.

  “Did you ask the woman if she recognized the Greens?” Carol asked.

  “I was so excited about the shelves and table I forgot. Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

  I trotted across the lawn where the woman stood talking to someone. After they finished up, I showed her the picture. “Any chance you recognize either of these people? I know it’s hard to see, but the man has a small birthmark like a comma on his right cheek.”

  She studied the picture. “I’m not sure. Why are you looking for them?”

  Ah, the awkward question. “They stole something from me at a garage sale.” It was true. They’d stolen my reputation.

  “I think I saw them at the flea market in Ellington about a month ago.”

  A buzz slid through me. I tried to keep calm so I wouldn’t scare the woman.

  “They had a booth.” She looked at the picture again. “But the picture is so fuzzy I can’t be sure. Sorry.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I dug one of my cards out of my purse. “If you ever see them again, will you please call me?”

  The woman nodded and shoved my card in her pocket. My hand trembled by the time I got back to the car. I quickly told Carol what the woman had said. “If they had a booth, the flea market might have some record of them.” I looked at the time. “But I can’t go now. I need to drop you off and get to the garage sale I’m running. Thanks for coming with me.”

  “I hope that helps you track them down. Or better yet, tell the police or Seth. Let them do the tracking.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “That’s a no,” Carol said.

  I shrugged. “I’ll let Vincenzo know so his investigator can look into it.” I didn’t add that I would also check it out myself.

  * * *

  After I dropped off Carol, I hastily put up signs for the garage sale I was running this morning. I got to the house around nine fifteen. The sale was uneventful, but we had a great turnout. It had run long because of a late influx of bargainers, so we’d stayed open far longer than we planned. It made my client happy and made more money for me, so I couldn’t complain. As soon as it wrapped up, I drove over to the flea market on the west side of Ellington. It was closed by the time I arrived at five. Chains were draped across the entrance, so I couldn’t get in to see if anyone was still around. Rats. I finally had a lead and couldn’t do anything about it. Fortunately, the flea was open again tomorrow. I’d just have to come back in the morning.

  Instead of heading home I drove over to Seth’s house. I could drop off the bookcases. When he’d left last night, he said he’d be home in the late afternoon and it was already early evening, so he should be there. That put a smile back on my face.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I spotted a sleek silver car in Seth’s driveway and knew Nichole More was there. Ugh. I thought about driving on by. She was one of the few people in my life who intimidated me. Maybe it was because she’d known Seth all her life, and their mothers had planned for them to get married. My showing up had ruined that plan for all three of them. Seth had always assured me he wasn’t interested in Nichole, but she was definitely interested in him. Maybe I was jealous because she was a rich successful defense lawyer and I wasn’t. I parked across the street and gave myself another talking-to. I was smart and I ran my own business. I would never want to be Nichole. But I would love her car.

  I knocked on the door. Seth had insisted on giving me a key, but up to this point I hadn’t ever used it. And it would be a long time before I would. Nichole answered with a glass of some kind of sparkling wine in her hand. She was tall and slender—“willowy” came to mind. Her hair always seemed to shine, and she was a couple of inches taller than Seth. The kind of woman I had always seen him with in photos on the society pages of the newspaper.

  She called over her shoulder. “Seth, we have company.”

  Oh, she was an expert at getting under my skin. Don’t let it show. I smiled. “Hi, Nichole,” I said, opening the door, which forced her to take a step back. She gestured for me to follow her.

  Seth came down the hall, all handsome and manly. “Sarah.”

  There was no mistaking the joy in his voice or in his expression. Why did I let Nichole get to me?

  “Would you like some prosecco? Or a glass of red wine?” he asked.

  “Some prosecco would be great. Thanks.”

  He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Go sit in the living room. We’re celebrating.”

  I headed to the living room, wondering what they were celebrating. Since Nichole was a defense attorney and Seth a prosecuting attorney, it didn’t seem likely that it was a case. They were always on opposite sides in a courtroom. Nichole draped herself on the couch, so I sat in the chair I’d found for Seth earlier in the year. I forced myself to relax back into the leather upholstery that I’d picked out when I’d had it reupholstered.

  “What are you celebrating?” I asked.

  Nichole actually blushed.

  Seth returned with two glasses of prosecco. “She’s engaged.”

  What? I took one of the glasses from Seth and lifted it. “Congratulations.” I managed not to say, “wow, that was fast,” because she’d been vigorously pursuing Seth only a few months ago. I notice a flash of a ring on her hand. “Oh, can I see your ring?”

  Nichole blushed again but held out her hand. What woman didn’t want to show off her ring? It was a beautiful emerald surrounded by diamonds.

  “It’s lovely, Nichole. I wish you every happiness.”

  “Thank you. And to you, too.” She looked back and forth between Seth and me.

  That caused me to blush. We were early days still.

  “Chip is a lucky guy,” Seth said. “He’s been in love with Nichole since the day she knocked him down on the playground in kindergarten.”

  Nichole blushed for a third time. “He took my ball.” She looked at me. “I couldn’t let him get away with that.”

  I laughed. “Good for you. It seems like that attitude has served you well.”

  Nichole smiled at me. A genuine smile. “It has. I almost always get what I want.” She glanced at Seth, but he didn’t even notice.

  After we finished our prosecco and Nichole left, Seth dipped me into a big deep kiss.

  “What are you doing here?” Seth asked when he’d straightened me back up. “It’s an unexpected and very pleasant surprise. I’ve noticed you aren’t one to just drop in.”

  He was right. Seth was a smart, handsome man. He’d been named Massachusetts’s Most Eligible Bachelor three years in a row, the third time being only a few short weeks ago. The man had dated a string of model types before me. Not that I didn’t think I was a catch, but it did bring out all my insecurities. I was just a regular woman, a little flabby in spots, loved to eat, self-conscious in swimwear, and always hoping I would lose five pounds. “I found some shelves for the sitting area of your master bedroom.”

  “It’s going to have a sitting area?” he asked in mock surprise.

  I slapped his arm. “You know it is. Help me carry them in. I’m so excited to see how they look.”

  Thirty
minutes later I had them positioned just where I wanted them. I’d polished the wood to a soft glow and cleaned the old, wavy glass. I stepped back, right into Seth.

  He put his arms around me. “You look sexy when you polish.”

  I leaned back against him, admiring my work. “You’re a nut. They’re perfect.”

  Seth kissed my neck. “You’re perfect.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Perfect for me.”

  I sighed with happiness.

  “Stay.” He pulled me closer. “Please.”

  Seth made me feel like a teenager again, a mass of nerves with her crush. “Okay.” It came out soft, low.

  Seth scooped me up and tossed me on his bed.

  * * *

  I walked into the office at the flea market at ten on Sunday morning. An old coot smoked away under a NO SMOKING sign. He stubbed out his cigarette.

  “Help ya?” His face had a stubble of gray hair. Bright blue eyes, alert eyes, belied my first impression of him.

  “I’m looking for someone,” I said.

  “I hope it’s me.”

  I laughed. “Sorry. It’s a young couple who had a booth here around a month ago.”

  “I’m going to need more to go on than that,” he said, scratching his jawline. “Probably had a hundred booths over the past month or so.”

  “That many?”

  “Transient group, flea marketers. They take their things where they think they’ll sell best. Or they pick their markets based on the day of the week.”

  That was disappointing. “Their last name is Green. Kate and Alex Green?” At least that’s what they’d said their last name was. Although a search under those names had yielded nothing. The only good side of any of this was that I realized I needed to be more businesslike. My business had started as a whim. Something to keep me busy and a way to make money after my first split with CJ almost two years ago. Now it was a real business. A verbal agreement wasn’t going to be good enough anymore. I was going to have to do a formal contract, check IDs, contact references if I had any suspicions. And from now on I was going to have a lot of suspicions.