The Case of the Angry Auctioneer (Auction House Mystery Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Don’t call me Candy. My name’s Jasper.”

“Be that as it may, I’m still married to Candace Jasper Biggs Rowe. How would it look if I didn’t attend my own father-in-law’s memorial?”

“Ah ha! I knew you would be worrying about appearances at a time like this.”

“Somebody’s gotta think about the look of things at a formal affair.”

“Affair, Tim?
Affair?
”

The parishioners crowded in close. This was a field trip for them.

“Down front!” yelled Mr. Peters from the auction gallery. “We can’t see what’s going on!”

“Settle down, folks,” Ted said back on mike. “I don’t think they’re going to come to blows. You’re not going to hit him, are you, Jasper?”

“Don’t let them anywhere near that lasagna!” old Mrs. Peters yelled.

“Get him good, Jasper!” another of the regular auction-goers shouted.

Tim bent in close. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?”

His eyebrows were doing that caterpillars-traveling-uphill-thing against all odds. Jasper relented. She drew him back behind the auction block.

“Look,” Tim said. “You don’t really owe me anything even though it’s taken all I have to hold my head high in front of my congregation.”

“If this is what you wanted to say, you can leave now.”

“No, no look. Wrong approach. I just want to be able to take a moment to speak about Jimmy, to say something, you know, religious.”

“Why should I? Jimmy wasn’t exactly religious. And I’m not sure you’re the best spokesman for the benevolent universe.”

“I can’t stand any more public humiliation.”

“Why did you bring that mob along with you then?”

“They followed me.”

“Huh.”

Tim dropped to his knees. “Please.”

“Get up, get up. Jeepers.” Jasper felt that old familiar tug of wanting to save this pitiful man from himself. “All right already.”

He got to his feet.

“One prayer. One quick prayer. And not too much Jesus. Got it?”

“Thank you, thank you. I owe you.”

“You ain’t kiddin.’”

From up on the auction block, Rev. Tim intoned, “Oh, Lord, cast your gaze down upon those gathered today as we commemorate the life of your son, James Biggs…” It was actually respectful, Jasper thought, appreciating Tim’s decorum. Maybe Jimmy deserved something closer to a traditional memorial service after all. Many people in the audience bowed their heads in prayer.

As Tim continued, another figure entered the back of the auction house. Sean Solberg the artist made his way toward Jasper and Cookie. Handsome as ever, he looked casual but respectful in dark gray slacks and a navy blue shirt. With an irreverent twinkle in his eye, he whispered, “So when do we eat?”

Jasper shushed him with a smile, but her stomach gave a loud gurgle of anticipation.

“Amen,” Tim intoned.

The relieved crowd rushed the buffet. Old Mrs. Parker brandished her cane to keep the rival eaters at bay.

Standing behind the food table at the back, Jasper felt somewhat buffered from the attentions of Pastor Tim who helped himself liberally to the lasagna and garlic bread. “What I don’t get,” he mumbled through a mouth full of food. Jasper had often found that one of his less than endearing traits. “What I don’t get is how you can let yourself come down in the world like this.”

Jasper decided to take the high road. “Thank you for the prayer,” she said.

Tim wiped his mouth on his sleeve and belched.

Jasper winced. So much for good intentions. “You missed a spot, Mr. High and Mighty,” she said. “And your breath stinks.”

“Excuse me, father,” Jerry Murphy, one of the auction house regulars said. He focused his attentions on the salad. “Got to lose a few pounds. Good a time as any to start. Afternoon, Jasper. Holding up okay? Good, good.” He shuffled down the line.

“It’s Reverend, just plain Reverend,” Pastor Tim shouted toward Jerry Murphy.

“Let it go!” Jasper said.

Tim opened his mouth in surprise and treated Jasper to a look into a gooey white and pink cavern.

Cookie left the conversation she was having with a group of ladies near the auction block. She joined Jasper. “Ted,” she said solemnly.

“Courtney.”

“Cookie,” she automatically corrected him.

“I was just telling Candy here,” Ted went on, oblivious.

Cookie elbowed Jasper lightly. Jasper said, “Jasper.”

Tim shoveled more food into his already full mouth. “Any rate, what I wonder is if Jimmy didn’t just bring this upon himself.”

Cookie grimaced. “I’m afraid to ask but – “

“Yes, what’s your point, Tim?” Jasper asked.

“And it had better be a good one,” Cookie added.

Pastor Tim retreated half a step. He gestured at the sisters with his fork. “Any rate, he was not exactly the most Christian man I’ve ever known.””

“God bless the twits of the world.” Cookie turned to her sister. “Can you handle this okay? I feel a trip to the lady’s room coming on.”

“No problem.” She folded her arms and faced her soon-to-be ex-husband. “If you’re trying to say that your wrathful God conked Jimmy on the head and shoved him down the stairs because maybe he wasn’t such a good person, not as great a person as someone like you for instance, then you can just pack up some spare meatballs – and maybe some of those cookies down there if you want – and, and –“

A small group of auction goers had gathered behind Pastor Tim and were standing at the ready. “Everything all right here, Jasper?” Jerry Murphy asked.

“I’m fine,” Jasper said.

From the desk area came a familiar voice. “I know he’s here somewhere! What do you mean you don’t know where he is? Pastor Tim, oh Pastor Tim!” the man’s voice called.

Pastor Tim whirled around. Some of the salad spilled off his plate. Tim took a step and slid on the Italian dressing slick. He landed on his knees. People rushed to help. Jerry Murphy tugged him to his feet.

“Can you hand me over some napkins, Ardith?”

“Here you go, honey,” a man in a Green Bay Packers t-shirt said.

Jerry Murphy said, “There you go, father. Good as new.”

“I tell you –" Pastor Tim started to say.

The choir director from Truman Free Church hurried into the scene.

“Better go before it gets really messy,” Jasper said.

“It’s okay, Ryan, it’s okay,” Pastor Tim said. “Let’s go. My work here is done.” He turned to Jasper. “Back door?”

She nodded to the corridor.

Pastor Tim put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and the two walked away. Ryan looked back over his shoulder and shot Jasper a baleful look. “You’re so hard on him,” he yelled back at her.

“Hard is as hard does,” Jasper said.

Tim and Ryan pushed their way out through the swinging door. The church folks trailed after, some of them waving backwards at Jasper. Their heads were down. They not only missed Jasper, they were now missing a nice funeral buffet, she had to think.

“Who are those characters?” asked a familiar voice. Sean the artist stood at the buffet table just out of arms’ reach from Jasper. His plain blue shirt fit him well across his wide-enough shoulders and want-to-stroke chest. Jasper admired his strong forearms, revealed below his rolled up sleeves and his large hands, not manicured and sort of grungy looking with hard-work dirt making them look like works of art in progress. One of them waved in front of Jasper’s face. “Did I say something?” Sean asked.

Jasper came back, well halfway back, to reality. “Did you say something?” My, his eyes were the color of Lake Superior even under the unflattering fluorescent lighting. Maybe it was the shirt. Had she always been a sucker for blue eyes? Was it Sean or the fluorescents giving off all that heat? Jasper patted her forehead. Sean daubed it with a napkin. Jasper swayed.

“You need to sit down,” he said. He led her to the back of the auction block and eased her down beside him on the carpeted stairs that led up to the auctioneer-clerking platform. He extracted a silver flask from his side pocket. “Here. My own special blend.”

Jasper discovered that her hands were shaking. Sean placed one of his own over hers and helped her tip the flask up. She swallowed down the bittersweet liquid. She smiled weakly at Sean and handed back the flask.

“More?”

“This is my breakfast. I better not.”

Sean pocketed the flask. “Nothing like beer and lemonade, I always say.”

Oh, jeez, not another addict. Alcohol this time instead of sex. “Well, that’s that,” she said.

“I didn’t mean always
always
. I don’t like words that claim to know it all,” he said. His wide grin crooked up on one side.

“Best? Worst? Saddest?"

“You got it. I’m not crazy about funerals. I thought maybe I should bring something along in case anybody needed it,” Sean said.

“I don’t need alcohol,” Jasper said. Jimmy used to drink and the memories were bad ones. She scooted away the four inches that the step would allow.

“Of course not,” Sean said.

The noise of the milling crowd grew louder in Jasper’s ears. “I just meant - ”

“Whoa.”

Jasper felt Sean’s gentle hand on the back of her neck, guiding her head downward to rest on her arms crossed over her lap. “Thank you,” she mumbled into her knees.

“What’s going on back here?”

The warm hand deserted her neck.

Jasper sat up too fast. “Aw, Ted.” Her stomach lurched. She had to get to the ladies’ room. Fast.

Ted and Sean stood facing each other. “You need help, Jazz?” Ted asked. He took one of her elbows.

“I’m helping her,” Sean said. He reached for her.

Jasper sidestepped both of them. “Nobody has to help me,” she said. She exited the room through the swinging doors and nearly took down Cookie in the process. Her twin took one look at her, then grabbed her hand and hurried her out of the storage room toward the restroom at the back of the auction house. She tried to say thanks but Cookie shushed her.

In the hall Ted hurried up alongside the women. “Can I do anything for you girls?”

Jasper’s stomach heaved and she threw up right next to Ted’s cowboy boots.

“Nice of you to offer,” Cookie said.

“Yeah, thanks Ted.” Jasper with Cookie alongside disappeared into the ladies’ room, leaving behind the mighty Ted to deal with the mess on the floor.

“Estie, get back here!” they heard him roar.

By the time Jasper had rinsed out her mouth with soapy water and Cookie had helped her comb her hair and apply some lipstick to her mouth and cheeks, the twins found that most of the memorial service guests had left. A few strays hung around the nearly empty buffet dishes, but Grace and Ted were strongly encouraging them to leave. The other auction workers had already gone home. Sean Solberg was still there talking in a desultory way with Glenn Relerford. Neither one looked like he was enjoying the other’s company.

“We’ll be right back,” Ted said over his shoulder as he and Grace herded the last of the stragglers toward the front door of the auction.

“I won’t. G’night, all,” Grace said.

Jasper and Cookie stood with Glenn and Sean, watching the crew from the Forester break down the buffet. Molly wasn’t with them. “That’s it then,” the supervisor said.

“What’re those?” Jasper asked. She pointed at five aluminum containers, covered and stacked.

“Food. It’s yours. You paid for it.” The man shifted from one foot to another. “Or I guess you will be paying for it. Boss said he’s sending you the bill.”

“That’s right,” Cookie said.

“Uh – “

“Oh, right. The tip,” Jasper said.

Cookie whispered in her ear, “Sorry, Sis. Didn’t bring any cash.”

Glenn fished out his wallet. “Can you take a credit card?”

Sean dug into his pocket. “I’ve got a five.”

“Never mind. There’s money back in my purse. Now where did I put my bag?” Jasper gave the auction house a dizzy full circle.

Cookie reminded her that she had left it in Jimmy’s apartment at the back of the auction house. “That’s right. I’ll go get it,” Jasper said.

Cookie said, “I’ll go with you.”

“Me too,” Glenn and Sean said at the same time.

Everyone including the Forester man picked up a container and followed Jasper out the back door and through the parking lot to Jimmy’s door. Jasper wiggled the key into the lock, turned it, and then discovered that the turn of the key had locked the door. “It must’ve been opened,” she said. “I guess I forgot to lock it before the service.”

“I’ll go first,” Glenn said. He told everyone to wait while he stepped into the dark apartment, switching on the overhead light.

Sean stepped forward to follow Glenn but the detective ordered him to wait with the women. “Mr. Authority,” Sean mumbled.

Cookie elbowed Jasper lightly in the side.

The rustling of paper from the dumpster a few yards away caught her attention. “Did you hear that?” Jasper asked.

“Rat?” Cookie wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

“I think I’ll get going. You can add the gratuity to the bill,” the restaurant man said. He handed off his aluminum container to Sean and left.

The sound of paper and cardboard being walked on, crushed, came louder along with a single low note.

“Maybe a raccoon,” Sean said. He and Jasper slippered over to the dumpster. “If it’s a raccoon, you don’t want to corner it.”

“Shhh,” Jasper said. “Let’s listen.”

The low note sounded again but with more articulation.

“Kitty!” Jasper said. “Please take this.” She added her aluminum container to Sean’s armful. He set them on the ground near Cookie and helped Jasper lift the dumpster lid. Two round eyes blinked at them from the furthest corner. “How’d you get in there, sweetie?” Jasper asked.

“Good question. There’s no food in there.”

Cookie joined them, setting her leftovers container on the ground. “You think someone put her in there? Or him?”

“Could be. Let’s find out what we have here. I’m going in,” Sean said. He clambered over the side of the dumpster. His work boots scrunched the paper beneath them. The little cat let out a loud “Mow” and leapt onto a cardboard box, then up toward the edge of its temporary prison.

Without stopping to think, Jasper grabbed the cat in mid-air. She clutched it to her chest and its tiny but keen claws dug into her skin through her sweater. “Ouch,” she whispered so as not to scare the cat. The cat purred loudly and nuzzled its head under her chin. It climbed onto Jasper’s shoulder looking backwards so its tail end faced front. Its front legs and paws draped over her shoulder. The cat was small-boned, sleek and the color of dark chocolate. “It’s heavier than it looks,” Jasper said. “You’re a heavy little baby, aren’t you?”

“More like a motor boat,” Sean said, climbing out of the dumpster. He scratched the cat between its ears. The purr was never-ending.

“Good kitty,” Cookie said, joining in with some petting of her own.

“Is it a girl?” Jasper asked.

Sean lifted its tail to check. “Nope, a boy.

“How can you be sure - ?” Jasper asked.

“Full package. He’s fully equipped,” Sean said.

“Balls,” Cookie whispered in Jasper’s ear.

“Oh-h-h,” Jasper said.

“Everything’s safe inside. Just make sure you lock up next time,” Glenn said, rejoining the group.

“I’m certain I locked the door,” Jasper whispered.

“Looks like you cooked up a little trouble out here. What’s this?” Glenn asked.

“It’s a cat,” Sean said.

“I can see it’s a cat, Solberg.”

“Want to pet him?” Jasper asked. The cat’s warmth and its continual hum of contentment made Jasper feel like a little girl, and that was a happy feeling she had not enjoyed for quite some time.

“I’m more of a dog man,” Glenn said.