Murder for Bid (19 page)

A half hour, one moving violation, and several cuss words later, I was on my way. Luckily, I always carry a few bungee cords in the backseat. I jerry-rigged my bumper so that it barely scraped the pavement as I exited the lot and headed home.

The first thing I saw after parking my poor Volvo in the back drive, was a large box waiting on my steps. Shep had made good on his promise. The sight of two gorgeous dresses brightened my mood ever so slightly.

I entered my apartment and immediately squirmed out of my skirt, anxiously pulling the first over my head. It was a vintage 1960s wiggle dress with a wide tank style neckline and a deep V back. Its emerald color almost matched the color of my eyes. “
Oh  sweet,” I sighed. It fit perfectly. In fact, it accentuated my best qualities. The good thing about carrying extra weight was that my breasts were a little bigger than usual and this dress put the girls front and center stage.

The second was equally as beautiful. It was also a vintage 60s piece made of black silk satin with a lace overlay and loads of sequins. I loved it, but I couldn’t quite get the ankle length pencil skirt to zip over my hips. Oh well, the green gown was perfect
.

After playing dress up, I changed into Levis and a T-shirt and logged on to check my on-line auction listings. I never tired of watching people bid on my items. It was like pulling the lever on a slot machine, only I was usually guaranteed some sort of payout. Today,
my payout was looking good, but not quite good enough to cover my regular bills as well as afford my newly needed body work. Car, that is. Not that my body couldn’t use some work too, considering that black dress’s silent accusations about my hips, but that could wait. At least
my
bumper wasn’t dragging … yet.

I finished my computer work, grabbed the classifieds and a wad of ones and fives that I kept hidden in my cupboard, and headed out to hit some garage sales. I was determined to make good out of what had so far been a lousy day. Plus, I needed to make up for neglecting my business all week.

Today was Thursday and I always had the most luck at the Thursday afternoon sales. Last week the rain had dampened my prospects, well, the rain plus the shed incident; but this week’s classifieds were loaded with promising sales. Today, I would focus on kids’ clothes. With the change of season, moms would be scouting for some good deals.

By late afternoon my mood began to turn upward. I was on a roll and people were cutting me amazing deals. Maybe my dragging bumper wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The garage sale divas took one look at my car and pegged me as a person who really needed some cheap clothing. I even negotiated a sweet deal on a couple of bags of little girl’s clothing, all expensive brand names. In fact, I was having so much fun that I had hardly thought at all about my dilemma with Sean or Amanda’s murder … that was until my cell rang.

It was him.

“How’s the car doing?”

“Is that why you’re really calling, Sean, to find out about the car?” I sounded witchy, even to myself.

“No, actually I was hoping we could talk. I feel bad about our fight.”

I handed over a five to the soccer mom presiding over the cash box and made my way toward the curb.

“Forget it. I think it’s over between us.” There, I had said it. It hurt like hell.

“You know, I’ve already told you that there’s nothing going on between Sarah and me. What more do you want?” He was getting ticked.

“I don’t want anything. I told you, we’re through.” My conversation was starting to draw attention from the other shoppers. Not wanting to be their soap opera-away-from-home, I moved into my car.

“Is that what you really want, Pippi? You don’t ever want to see me again?” he asked.

I teetered emotionally. Is that what I wanted? I knew it wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to wait around either.  Then there was Greg. Why was I feeling so attracted to him? It must be that “bad-boy” thing that people are always talking about; because logically, I knew that Greg Davis wasn’t good for me. Or maybe, he could be
ooooh so good for me. Undoubtedly he could. I mean, he was so delicious looking.

Sean broke the silence. “I’m on my way to your place now. We’ll talk there.”

“Fine, but it’ll be a while. I’m on the other side of town.”

“I’ll wait.” He disconnected.

I took my time making my way back home. It wouldn’t do to let him think I would just rush home to meet with him. I even stopped off at a couple more sales. By the time I pulled up behind my place and parked next to his Jeep, it was almost 6:30. He had probably been waiting for over an hour.

I was half-way up my stairs when I heard voices from my parents’ backyard. I hustled back down and peeked around the shrubs.

“Honey!” Mom yelled, spying me. “Come on back, we’ve been waiting for you.”

For some reason the jovial scene before my eyes ticked me off. Sean was kicked back in Dad’s favorite lounge chair with a long neck in his hand and a half-eaten plate resting on his knees. Mom was seated across from him holding out a giant bowl of pasta salad trying to convince him to dip in for more. Dad, wearing his
kiss the chef
apron, was at the grill, happily flipping a second round of burgers.

Sean stood as I approached.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, sounding crankier than I wanted.

Mom shot me disapproving look. “We’re eating. What’s it look like?” she snapped. “Where are your manners?”`

Carrying a loaded plate, Dad came to my rescue. “Don’t be so hard on her, Maureen. She’s just hungry. You know how she gets when her stomach is empty.”

Sean sat back down, eyeing me wearily. He took a long drag on his beer.

“Sit down and eat,” Mom ordered.  

Dad joined us, handing me a beer. “This young man has been keeping us entertained with police stories. I swear, he should write a book about some of his experiences. I have a whole new appreciation for what police officers go through on a daily basis.”

Sean looked up from his plate sheepishly.

“Really,” I commented unenthusiastically. “To think that many of them still find time in their busy schedules to do things like volunteer for the Special Olympics.” My attitude was making everyone tense.

“Yes,” Mom interjected. She wasn’t going to give up on making this a happy little get together. “Anyway, the funniest story was one that Sean was telling us about an incident that happened today in the parking lot at Hector’s.”

I looked at Sean. He had told them?

Mom was grinning from ear to ear. “I told Sean that you get your hot temper from me, and your poor driving skills from your father. You don’t really stand a chance.”

I took a long drink and laughed obligingly. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to drink a little beer, too. I finished the one in my hand and reached for another. It had been a long day, I needed to kick back.

We ate and drank together for another hour, listening to some more of Sean’s stories. To their credit, no one brought up the bracelet that was found in my apartment the night before. I guess they were trying to cheer me up. They kept the conversation light and although I tried to participate in all the pleasantries, I just couldn’t shake my mood. I’m sure my parents could sense the tension between Sean and me. Even after a couple of beers and one of my Dad’s famous burgers, I was still mad. I couldn’t wait for the whole artificially pleasant fiasco to be over.

I found a plausible escape route when Dad waved another burger my direction.

“No thanks, Dad. They’re great, but I’m stuffed. Besides, I’ve got a lot to do tonight.”

He reached into his pocket and held out a set of keys. “I had the locks on your apartment changed today. No more leaving the door unlocked, okay?”

I agreed to be more careful and gratefully took the keys. Sean rose. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien, everything was great, thank you.” He started to clear the plates.

“I’ll take care of that,” Mom said, taking the plates from his hands. “I’m sure we’re keeping you two from something fun. Are you going to see a movie?”

Sean and I looked at each other, neither one of us knowing how to respond.

“Uh, we’re not sure yet. We just thought we’d hang out and see what’s happening.” I gave them both quick hugs. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“You have something to wear for the gala tomorrow, right?” Mom asked, before I had managed to escape.

“Yes, actually I do.”

She looked pleasantly surprised. Apparently my mother didn’t have a lot of confidence in my wardrobe-choosing abilities. “Our table is front and center. I saved two chairs for you and …a guest.” She hesitated, realizing that she hadn’t thought to ask who that guest might be. There was a moment of awkwardness as she glanced in Sean’s direction.

To his credit, his expression remained neutral. I wondered if Mom was hoping I would bring Sean or was she holding out that I would bring a show-stopper like Greg. Wouldn’t she be surprised to see me show up with Shep? Oh, no. I forgot to tell Shep to keep things toned down. I hope he didn’t show up in his usual flamboyancy. While they
were open-minded, I wasn’t certain that my parents were ready for Shep’s flair for fashion.

Sean dropped his social façade as soon as we were out of my parent’s sight. “Can we talk up in your apartment?” he asked.

I decided to let him in. I even offered him another drink. He declined and remained standing. “There’s nothing going on with Sarah and me. We work together on the Special Olympics and that’s it. You’ve got to trust me.”

“You’re not attracted to her?” I asked.

“No,” he replied after an ever-so-slight hesitation. Liar. How could any man not be attracted to Sarah Maloney? She had the body of runway model, the face of a cover girl, and the brains and ambition of Nobel Peace Prize winner.

I stood motionless, staring him down.

“Okay,” he relented. “She’s attractive, but there are a lot of attractive women out there, Pippi.” He grabbed my hands. “It’s you I’m with.”

“What are you saying? You find her attractive, but it’s me that you’re stuck with?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you meant.”

“What about Greg Davis? Are you attracted to him?” he countered.

Uh, oh.
What could I say?

Sean waited for me to answer and then began to shift uneasily when I didn’t.

I was trying to come up with the right way to say how I felt when he stiffened and backed away. “You know, I really don’t have time for this now,” he said, a dark expression taking over his features. “I’ve got too many other things I’ve got to take care of. This personal stuff is going to have to wait.”

“So,
our  relationship isn’t that important to you?” I asked.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “
No, that’s not what I’m saying. Let’s just give things between us a break until we can both calm down and figure out what we want.”

“Fine,” I said. “I guess we’ll just wait and see how things turn out. Maybe in another three years we’ll have a better idea of how we feel,” I added facetiously.

We stared at each other. I was waiting for his emotions to crack; maybe he would even beg to work things out.

“I need to know what you’ve found out about Jessica Hanson,” he said, changing the topic so abruptly it made my head spin.
So much for emotions. Was this how he was going to play it? Was he that cold that he could throw away all the time we had invested over the last few years?

“Look,” he continued as if reading my mind. “I want to work this thing out between us, but I’ve also got a job to do. I need to know what Greg told you at the restaurant today.”

I stood still for a minute, considering my options. I could be just as cold-hearted. Finally I said, “If I answer your questions will you answer a couple of mine?”

He shrugged, “If I can.”

We were standing uncomfortably close to each other. I backed up a couple of inches and said, “All I know about Jessica Hanson is that she was Judge Reiner’s intern and that she’s missing.”

“Greg told you that?” he inquired.

“Yes. He said that there were some rumors that the judge had been involved in something illegal and that Schmidt’s law firm was investigating him. The judge thought the intern might have something that could incriminate him and that’s why she disappeared.”

Sean nodded. “What else did Greg say?” His voice was unnaturally neutral.

“In his opinion, he thinks that the judge was looking for key evidence that might have been at the Schmidt residence. Either he went there himself or he sent a goon over to retrieve it when he thought no one would be home, except that Amanda was there and got in the way.”

“I see.” Sean crossed in front of me and sat on the couch. I cleared some boxes off my coffee table and sat on the edge across from him.

“What else have you found out?” he asked, staring right into my eyes, daring me to try to lie.

“Just a few odd things here and there.”

“What type of odd things?”

“I dropped in on Madeline Reiner a couple of mornings ago. She seemed very agitated when I suggested that Richard Schmidt might have a mistress. I also discovered that she has a strange fetish for naughty nightwear.”