The Longest Yard Sale (22 page)

CHAPTER 36

By ten that night, I was still too keyed up to even think about going to bed. I'd been waiting for CJ to call with word about Bubbles. While I waited, I scrubbed, dusted, or straightened every surface in the apartment. And Beverly's comment “you don't pay me enough” stayed with me. Bubbles must have felt the same way. He'd almost died as a young lieutenant, and his nickname had been a constant reminder. Then after the mess with the missiles, he knew he'd never make general. It dawned on me then. Terry's blackmailing Gennie might have put Bubbles's scam in jeopardy. They were two criminals with two different agendas, neither knowing the other's secret. If Bubbles managed to evade the law, we might never learn the full truth.

I'd made my own mess of things with Seth and CJ. My apartment seemed small and hot, so I flung open the window. Cool air rushed in. I leaned on the sill. The town common was quiet, and Great Road was empty. Lights were on in Carol's store. Her car was parked out front. I knew she'd almost finished her second copy of
Battled
. Maybe she needed some company to keep her going.

I chuckled at that thought as I threw on my leather jacket. Carol would know I was the one who needed company. I grabbed my cell phone and my key to Carol's store. Stars popped in the dark sky. The scent of fallen leaves spiced the autumn air.

As I approached the door to Paint and Wine, something crashed inside, and I heard a muffled scream. Carol. I ducked below the wooden half of the door and peeked in. Someone stood beyond the studio door behind Carol. All I could see was a man's hairy arm wrapped around Carol's neck, choking her. The dark shadows of the studio hid all but a bit of his face. Bubbles. She pried at his arm, scratching it. He dragged her into her studio. Her legs kicked out in front of her until he hauled her out of my sight.

I called 9-1-1 as I ran around to the alley, filling in as many details as I knew. “Get someone here now. I'm heading down the alley to the back door.”

The dispatcher advised me not to do that and asked me to stay on the line. I agreed but put my phone on silent and tucked it in my pocket. I didn't plan to do anything stupid, but if there was something I could do to help Carol, I would. I hurried down the alley, making too much noise. I slowed behind DiNapoli's, wishing it was open and someone was in there to help me. I glanced at Herb's house. No lights were on, and no curtains twitched.

I hesitated at the back door of Carol's shop. I turned the knob. The door was locked. My hand shook. I stuck the key in the lock, turning it ever so slowly until I heard the lock release. Should I risk opening it or wait? Sirens wailed in the far distance. I hoped they were racing here.

Inside someone yelled out in pain. I eased the door open and slipped into the supply room. The curtains between the supply room and the studio stirred. I held my breath as I inched the door closed. After picking my way around boxes of Carol's supplies, I peered through a crack in the curtains. Dim light from the skylight streamed down on Bubbles's and Carol's silhouettes. He yanked up on a frame around her neck. Her breath came out in short pants as she clawed at it.

I looked around the storage area. The box of frames Carol had bought at New England's Largest Yard Sale sat in a corner. I slid a heavy frame with sharp corners out of the box. I stepped through the curtains. Carol's hands dropped from the frame to her sides, limp.

“Bubbles!” I yelled. As he turned, I lobbed the frame at him boomerang style. The sharp corner struck his temple. He dropped to the ground, and his head thunked against the floor. Carol crumbled to the floor next to him, the frame hanging around her shoulders. I was stunned I'd hit him. I'd only hoped to distract him long enough for the police to arrive.

Bubbles moaned as I heard the screech of tires at the back door. Glass broke out front. Police burst into the room from both sides.

Pellner kneeled beside Bubbles, flipping him over and cuffing him. I ran over to Carol. Her eyes opened.

“We need an ambulance,” I shouted. I slid down beside Carol and removed the frame from around her shoulders.

“One's on the way,” someone said.

Pellner yanked Bubbles up. Blood dripped from a cut on his temple. A bruise blossomed around it. Pellner handed him off to someone. “Get him to a hospital.” He looked at me. “What happened here?”

I told him as much as I knew. “Did Bubbles come back for the second painting?” I asked Carol. I bet he wanted to con someone with that one, too.

“Yes.” Her voice rasped out. I helped her sit up, bracing her against me.

I shuddered as I realized how lucky Carol was to be alive. The EMTs arrived and loaded a protesting Carol onto a gurney.

I called Brad to let him know what had happened and that Carol was heading to Lahey in Burlington. Pellner stood over me until I hung up.

“Chuck's going to have a fit when he hears you came in here.”

“I couldn't wait. He'd have killed her.”

Pellner patted me on the shoulder. I waited for another lecture.

“You saved her. Good work.” He flashed his dimples at me before he turned and started talking to another officer. I gaped after him. Then I smiled to myself. Good work.

 

 

The next night, Stella and I sat at the window table of DiNapoli's. We'd gone to Gennie's last fight. Right before the fight the promoters had conducted a huge ceremony. They showed a film of her illustrious career. Gennie announced to the world that she was opening an art studio in Dorchester. For a moment, there was dead silence in the arena. Her opponent sneered. Then a thunder of applause broke out. Gennie beat the sneer right off of her opponent's face and won her final fight.

The remains of a celebration pizza sat in the middle of the table. Angelo had whipped it up just for us, trying out a new recipe with blue cheese, grilled red peppers, and baby portobello mushrooms. Plastic kiddie cups with lids and straws sat in front of us filled with Chianti. We were on our second round. Since all we had to do was walk across the town common to get home, we could drink our fill tonight. Of course, it would be my luck that some overeager Ellington police officer would be out there and arrest us for being drunk in public.

“So, Stefano bought Carol's copy of
Battled
?” Stella asked.

“He did. Not for as much as Bubbles had promised her, but for a very nice sum.”

“At least Stefano didn't have the real one.”

I glanced over at Angelo. “I know Angelo was relieved when they found the original in Bubbles's Porsche. He never said it, but I think he was worried Stefano might really have had it.”

“Here's to us,” Stella said, picking up her cup.

“To sucking at relationships.” I held up my cup.

“To always picking the wrong man. I've outdone myself this time,” Stella said. “He not only stole my heart, but he stole my money.”

We drank to that.

“It's hard to believe he was using the money to pay for his fancy car and penthouse,” Stella said.

“Along with his kids' education and his wife's Rolex,” I added. “But at least you have a new man in your life.”

“Tux.” Stella smiled. “He's already captured my heart.”

“Won't he be a constant reminder of Bubbles?”

“With Dave in jail and no bail, I couldn't let Tux go to a shelter.” She paused and grinned. “Or let him think I was a mean landlady.”

I laughed.

“Maybe
your
problem is having two right men,” Stella said.

“Not anymore. To singledom,” I said as we smacked our cups together again. We took another sip in solidarity.

Stella looked out the window as I studied the dessert menu.

“What do you think about sharing a chocolate mousse cannoli?” I asked. “Or tiramisu. Theirs is the best.”

“I think you have a problem. And it's not from the fat and calories in the cannoli.”

Not another one. I glanced up at Stella. She pointed out the window. I was almost afraid to look, thinking of my car being towed or booted for some infraction I wasn't aware of. I looked anyway, ready to call Vincenzo for representation, if necessary. Across the town common, walking down the sidewalk toward each other, were Seth and CJ. Both carried bouquets of flowers. I dropped the menu. They stopped under the streetlight at the bottom of the steps to my apartment and stared at each other.

I turned to Stella, eyes wide open.

“Like I said, to two right men.” Stella grinned.

I grinned as we touched our cups together again.

Garage Sale Tips

 

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Copyright © 2015 by Sherry Harris

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ISBN: 978-1-6177-3019-1

First Kensington Mass Market Edition: July 2015

 

eISBN-13: 978-1-61773-020-7
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First Kensington Electronic Edition: July 2015