Death of a Garage Sale Newbie (11 page)

“I have a gun, and I know how to use it.” This time she sounded a little less forceful.
Don’t let him sense your fear, Arleta.
Again, she waited. Only this time she wasn’t resting behind her bed, she was standing…and her bunions were starting to hurt.

What a time waster.

“I have a gun, and I’ve been trained to use it.”
And I will use it.
With the gun pointed at the ceiling, she squeezed, not pulled, the trigger. The thunder of the shot nearly broke her eardrums. Something above her cracked. Plaster dust sprinkled on her head.

Footsteps pounded across floorboards. An outside door swung open and slammed shut. Arleta counted the intake and outtake of air…twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five. A car started up and sped away.

For what felt like a millennium, she stood in her dark living room blinking plaster out of her eyes. Arm relaxed, gun resting at her side, she was motionless enough to pass for a statue. Her pulsed drummed in her ears, creating that muffled feeling like wearing headphones. Arleta didn’t remember thinking that she should turn on the light, only that she found herself at the light switch pushing it up.

She turned a half circle in her living room and kitchen. The place was much less messy than she had expected for the amount of time the man had been in her house, but there was clear evidence that someone had been here. A photograph turned facedown. A china cup on the floor, unbroken.

She walked slowly to the desk that had been David’s. That’s where she had seen the tiny light. She opened a drawer. She always paper clipped related papers together. Now they were one unorganized heap. The intruder hadn’t been sloppy, but she would have known even if she had slept through the noise. When you lived alone, it was easy to tell when someone else had messed with your stuff. The intruder had focused his search around David’s old desk.

Arleta ejected the bullets from her revolver and set it on the desk. An unexpected wave of nausea overtook her and she bent over. All the fear she hadn’t allowed herself to feel rushed through her with the strength of a gale force wind. She slumped down in the chair by the desk.

The police. She needed to call the police and tell them what had happened. Her stomach churned like an old-fashioned washing machine. After the police, there would be no one else to call. Every person she could think of was an acquaintance at best. Not someone she felt comfortable calling in the middle of the night. Not someone who would talk to her and calm her down. Now that was sad.

Yes, she could take care of herself, but she was tired of being alone. Her new life was starting tonight. No more living in the past, longing for David.

The clock in the living room said it was eleven-thirty.
Take note, Arleta. That was the exact time you decided to live again.
She still had time to meet those nice ladies for midnight shopping. But first, she had to call the police.

Keaton Lustrum thought Renata looked especially delicious in black. The dark turtleneck made her skin seem even milkier. The black knit cap that covered her silky hair made her features stand out that much more. Exquisite.

Outside the home that belonged to the momof3 license plate, Renata sat in the passenger seat of Keaton’s Lexus trying to bite the tag off a knit cap she had bought for him. It had been Renata’s idea that they dress in black for their little “heist.” She got most of her ideas from television. In fact, Keaton had never seen her read a book, in French or in English. He read his speeches and briefs out loud to her. She nodded like she understood.

He gazed at Renata again as she continued to struggle with the tag on the hat. Who would have thought a nerdy ranch kid from eastern Montana would end up with a statuesque beauty like Renata. She was the jewel in his crown of success.

Her attachment to him and her willingness to help almost made it possible for him to forgive her for the first time she’d tried to get the box back and made such a mess of things.

He wasn’t stupid. She didn’t love him. She liked his money and the fact that photographers showed up from time to time to take her picture. That was why it was so important he get the shell box back. He had to keep taking the kind of law cases that made money.

A French expletive escaped Renata’s lips. “Uh, I cannot get this tag off.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just wear it the way it is.” He put the cap on and wobbled his head back and forth with his face scrunched. “Look at me. I am a fashion magnet,” he said in a whiny voice.

Her laughter made his toes melt in his black leather sneakers.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go in, look for the box, and take it.”

“
Bon
.” Renata’s voice had a lilting quality. “If we do not find it right away, we go. If the door is locked, we go.”

“Good girl.” She had memorized his instructions. How flattering. Boost to his ego. He pressed the button that lighted his watch. Nearly midnight. Except for the pregnant lady leaving at a little after eleven, the house had been completely dark and inactive. For the life of him, he couldn’t think where a pregnant lady was headed at this hour. Some new hot spot for expectant mothers, like a milk bar where people tie your shoes for you when they got untied?

The woman he’d seen carrying the box, the one with the brassy curls, must be the pregnant lady’s mom or something.

“All right, let’s go in.” Keaton opened the door and dashed toward a bush close to the sidewalk. Renata was right behind him.

Trevor blew a strand
of hair out of his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the car. “How much longer are you going to watch me like a baby?”

Tammy clicked her signal and turned into Ginger’s gravel driveway. “I’m just trying to get you to eighteen alive, Trevor.”

“Why are you signaling? Nobody’s behind us.”

“Who’s doing the driving here?” Her fingers tensed around the steering wheel. He had grumbled the entire way out here, completely destroying the positive feelings she had about him not doing drugs. She was seriously tempted to make him walk home. “Doesn’t matter who’s watching. The law is the law.”

Trevor crossed his arms and rested his chin on his chest. “I’m dying of boredom.”

Tammy pressed the brakes. “Better boredom than something else.” The lights were on in Ginger’s cute blue house and in the shop next to it. Maybe Ginger was a night owl. She had been so torn up about the department calling Mary Margret’s death an accident. Certainly, she’d be happy to hear that someone was on her side…no matter what the hour.

Trevor let out a loud huff of air. Loud on purpose, designed to get a reaction from his mom.

She didn’t fall for it. “Look, I don’t want to identify your body in a morgue, okay? That’s why I do this. You have wasted half my night, and I’m going to be late for work, so I suggest you quit whining. Wait here.”

She walked up the flower-lined stone walkway and knocked on Ginger’s door. What was she going to do with that kid?

A low mechanical roar resonated from the evergreens that surrounded Ginger’s property. She turned again to the house and peered through the window. Inside, a huge gray cat with white toes sauntered across the counter, stopping to lick the butter dish before jumping to the floor. The noise in the forest grew louder. Maybe someone was bulldozing property on the other side of the trees.

Trevor got out of the car and stared at the evergreens. “Do you hear that, Mom?”

“Probably just some construction.”

“At this time of night? What a racket.” He shook his head. “It’s wild, man.”

The mechanical grinding and humming ratcheted up a notch. Tree branches cracked. Tammy trotted down the path and stood by her son. “I don’t think Mrs. Salinski is home.” She raised her voice above the noise. “We should probably get going.”

Trevor planted his feet. “I want to see what it is. It’s coming this way.”

The noise was almost oppressive. More branches broke. A hole opened up in the forest, and a Bobcat emerged from the trees. Or at least Tammy thought it was a Bobcat.

Trevor raised his fist to the air. “Way cool, dude!”

The machine lumbered toward the tin building. The contraption looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Mechanical armlike things jutted out of the back and front. It didn’t look like anything you could buy at the equipment supply place.

Trevor stepped toward the metal garage. “Dude, it looks like a giant Swiss army knife. Awesome.”

Tammy placed her hand on his shoulder. “Careful, Trev.”

“Mom.” He wiggled free of her.

The motor sounds slowed to a putt-putt-putt and then stopped. A man pushed himself out of the Bobcat seat and leapt to the ground. Gray hair stuck out from underneath his straw cowboy hat with a peacock feather in it. It took her only a moment to register who it was. Earl Salinski sauntered with a level of enthusiasm that was impressive. Very different from the night she had met him in the police station.

He walked toward Tammy and her son. “Can I help you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Trevor interrupted her, curling his fingers into fists and stepping side to side. “Did you build that thing?”

Earl smiled and nodded. “Just the attachments.”

“Way cool.” Trevor raced across the lot and circled the Bobcat.

“Trevor, be careful.”

“Ah, he’s all right. The boy is just excited. My wife and I raised four of them, two boys, two girls, with the Lord’s help.”

Four kids? She’d gotten the impression that night in the police station that Ginger and her husband were good, decent people…and believers. “I’m here to see your wife. I called earlier.”

The man tilted his hat by pushing on the brim with his thumb. Recognition spread over his face. “You’re the police officer who told us about Mary Margret. You look really different.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Ginger went midnight shopping at the mall. Must be close to twelve by now. What happened? I thought you were coming a little after eight.”

Tammy glued her gaze on Trevor as he danced around the Bobcat. “I had to track down my son.”

Earl craned his neck in the direction of the Bobcat. “Seems like a nice boy. He likes to build things?”

Tammy played a mental game of connect the dots. A skateboard with a motor, taking apart the neighbor’s robotic cat, and the roller coaster. Duh. She nodded. “Yes, he likes to build things.”

Was she thickheaded, or had her job made her pessimistic about teenagers? Ginger’s husband had hit the nail on the head within seconds of meeting Trevor. All her negative experiences with teenagers had blocked the truth about her own son.

Earl took his hat off and ran his fingers around the rim while he twirled it. “I got to tell you; Ginger didn’t seem real interested in talking to you.”

“Actually, I think she will want to talk to me. When do you expect her home?”

Earl shrugged and stared at his boots. “I don’t know. We haven’t been communicating real well.”

“Midnight shopping, huh?” She was late for work anyway. Might as well see this thing to the end.

Trevor trotted across the gravel. “Did you really make that?”

Ginger’s husband grinned. “Yup, I’m an inventor.”

“Cool, what else have you made?” As if by magic, Trevor had transformed from a grumbling teenager to someone capable of conversation.

Earl almost glowed. “Ah, just little things. I’ll show you them sometime.”

“How about now?” Trevor blurted out.

“Trev, I have to—” She’d never seen her son so animated. He was looking Earl in the eye, admiration evident in his expression. What a change. The kid spent most of his day talking to his shoes. “Mr. Salinski, would it be okay if I left Trevor here while I ran out to the mall to find your wife?” It was the most impulsive thing she’d ever said. And somehow, she had a feeling it was the most right thing.

“A little company would be nice.” Earl nodded. “I’ll show your son the ropes.”

An officer knocked on Arleta’s door within five minutes of her calling the station. She bolted down the hallway. After fretting for ten minutes before making the call, she had barely had time to hide Annie in the drawer.

“Oh my, Officer—” her eyes fell to the policeman’s name tag—“Vicher. I didn’t expect you to get here so quickly.” The officer had light skin, a blond buzz cut, and a blank look on his face.

Vicher peered over Arleta’s shoulder, surveying her living room. “We were in the neighborhood.”

What did he mean by “we”? Did he have a mouse in his pocket? And what was so blasted interesting in her house that he looked past her like she was invisible? “Yes, it does seem like there are more reasons to call the police in this neighborhood.” The officer didn’t respond to her comment.

Instead, Vicher stepped inside and wandered around Arleta’s kitchen. What a rude young man. He hadn’t even waited to be invited in. Of course, she didn’t expect she would be serving him tea and crumpets. But one did expect a minimum of manners, especially from a police officer.

Vicher shoved his thumbs in his police belt, which contained all sorts of scary looking doodads. “So you had a break-in?”

“Yes, someone was in my house looking through my things.”

“Your things?”

“He was here for quite some time.” She ambled into the living room. “My papers in this desk are all messed up.”

“Did he take anything?” The officer cocked his head sideways. His hand brushed over the gun holster on his belt and then the flashlight.

She knew from her class that the gun was a 9mm. Arleta opened and closed the drawer, shivering involuntarily. “Not that I can tell.” Why wasn’t Officer Vicher writing all this down? He hadn’t even asked what her last name was. Certainly, he was going to make a report or something.

“How do you think the intruder got in?” Again, he started pacing through her kitchen and living room.

What a nosy body. “I don’t know. I suppose that side door by the back of the kitchen.” Arleta pointed.

Odd, the officer was already headed in that direction before she even pointed. This was starting to feel way too much like those awful movies she used to watch late at night when she couldn’t sleep. Maybe this guy wasn’t even really a policeman. Maybe he killed a police officer and stole his uniform. Maybe he was the guy who had actually broken in. But she had seen a flash of white hair on the intruder. This guy had a blond buzz cut. What if he was some kind of alien who wanted to suck her brains out? That always happened in those movies. Arleta tugged the collar of her cotton pajamas.

The so-called police officer opened the door and looked at the outside of it. He took a flashlight out of his belt and examined the lock. “No sign of a break-in.”

“I would have heard if he had come in the front door.” She always locked the front door, but sometimes she forgot about the side door. “Maybe he just opened it.”

“You didn’t lock it?” The officer moved toward her, and Arleta suddenly wished she hadn’t put Annie back in the drawer. Her heart beat a little faster.

Okay, so he probably wasn’t going to turn into a giant brain-sucking alien spider. But he still made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t had that much experience with policemen, but she was pretty sure they were supposed to be a little more polite. And not snoop around your house like they were lord of the manor.

He squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes, challenging.

“Somebody was in this house.” What kind of game was this guy playing? His nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled. He crossed his arms. “I lay in my bed and listened to him rifle through my things for close to half an hour.” Arleta chose her words deliberately and kept her voice level. The last thing she wanted was to be dismissed because she was a “crazy old lady.” Her mind was as sharp as any twenty-year-old’s. “This neighborhood is not safe.”

Officer Vicher kept his eyes on her and stepped toward her. He did kind of look like a spider.

Arleta took a ministep back and made a mental note not to watch anything but the weather channel at night when she couldn’t sleep.

Plaster dust sprinkled the officer’s head. He blinked rapidly. “What the—” He tilted his head toward the hole Arleta had blown in the ceiling.

Her cheeks were on fire. “I did that.”

“You did that?”

“With my…my gun.”

“With your gun?”

Arleta crossed her arms. This guy was a bully. “It is a legal, registered firearm. I am taking a self-defense class.” She left out the part about not following the procedure her instructor had given. “I have to protect myself.” If all policemen were like this man, it really was up to her.

The officer flattened his lips as though he were debating something in his head. The seconds ticked by. “Ma’am, I don’t think there has been a crime here. If something does turn up missing, we might be able to file a burglary report.”

“Oh, fine.”
Guess I have to do everything myself. Annie and I will defend the neighborhood.
She checked her watch. “You know, Officer, I’m meeting some friends at the mall.” It felt good to say that. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up missing.” She strutted toward the door and opened it. “Good night.”

“You’re going out at midnight?”

“I’m meeting friends.” She lifted her chin.
That’s right, Officer. Even helpless old ladies like me have social lives.
She watched him make his way down her stairs and across the street to his patrol car. It sure looked like a real police car.

She waited until he pulled away from the curb. Arleta raced to her bedroom to change out of her pajamas.

Time to go shopping.