Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 05 - Tight as a Tick

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  I said something to him as I left, but I was too worried to pay much attention to what it was. Somehow, I was going to have to keep Richard from seeing that design, or I just knew that I was going to have to spend the rest of his career making sure that none of his colleagues ever saw Shakespeare’s face inked onto his body.

  Chapter 18

  I caught up with Aunt Maggie at the bathroom, and when she said she thought I’d met everybody I needed to, we headed for her booth. When we got within earshot, she put an arm out to stop me. Augustus was talking to a well-dressed couple, and I could tell that Aunt Maggie wanted to listen to him.

  The woman was holding a china plaque decorated with the silhouette of a girl looking into a mirror. I’d noticed it before because it was marked fifty dollars, which seemed like a lot, but Aunt Maggie told me that it was Noritake and would have been worth more if it hadn’t been chipped.

  Augustus said, “That hung in my grandmother’s house for as long as I can remember, and when she passed on, she left it to my aunt Eula. But Aunt Eula passed away unexpectedly, and didn’t have a chance to decide which one of her daughters to give it to. Now Patsy and Lil have fought since the day they were born, and both of them claimed the plaque. They can’t split it, and neither one of them will back down, so they asked me to bring it out here to sell.” He laughed, like he was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to go into all that, but it’s just that if I lower the price even one dime, I’m going to be hearing about it from Patsy and Lil for the rest of my life.” He paused, as if thinking it over. “If you really can’t pay fifty, maybe I can make up the difference myself, just to keep them happy.”

  “We couldn’t ask that,” the woman said.

  The man looked amused by the whole thing, but said, “Of course not.” He pulled out two twenties and a ten and handed them to Augustus. “Are you going to be able to make change so your cousins can divide this up?”

  Augustus grinned. “Yes, sir, I think I can manage that.”

  He carefully wrapped the piece, put it into a bag, and handed it to them. “You take care of that, now. Grandmama would be mighty upset if anything happened to it after all this time.”

  The woman looked properly concerned, but the man just gave Augustus a mock salute before they left.

  “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it,” Aunt Maggie said.

  Augustus saw us. “You don’t mind my selling off that plaque, do you?”

  “I hope you wiped the dust off. It’s been sitting there for ages.”

  “Wipe it off?” Augustus said in mock horror. “That dust is what proved how old it was.”

  “Since when do you have an Aunt Eula?” I said. I don’t know much about Uncle Buddy’s side of the family, but I know there’s no Eula, Patsy, or Lil.

  “Don’t tell me there’s family I’ve missed,” Richard said.

  Augustus slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, Richard. We don’t have any more Burnettes hiding in the woodwork. I just made them up.”

  “Right there on the spot?” I was impressed. I usually have to plan my lies ahead of time.

  “Where did you learn to sell like that?” Aunt Maggie asked.

  “In Germany. I used to hang out at the markets over there. I didn’t buy much, but I enjoyed being outside and seeing people. At first, I believed the stories folks told about the things they were selling. The more outlandish it was, the more I believed it. But one day I was sitting on a bench long enough to hear a man try to sell a bowl to two different people, and when he told a different story to each of them, I finally caught on.”

  “What if those people find out that the plaque didn’t come from Aunt Eula’s house?” I said.

  “So what if they do?” Aunt Maggie asked, “They still got a nice plaque, and it’s worth what they paid for it. That man didn’t believe Augustus, anyway. It’s just part of the game.”

  “As Anacharsis said, ‘A market is a place set apart for men to deceive and get the better of one another,’ ” Richard added.

  “You got it,” Augustus said. “Well, now that you two are back, I better get going.” He untied that ridiculous apron and handed it to me.

  “Come back any time you want,” Aunt Maggie said. After he was gone, she said, “That boy could charm the scales off of a snake. He’s either going to make a lot of money or end up in jail.”

  She went to tend to a customer, and I said to Richard, “Now that’s the Augustus I remember. What happened while we were gone?”

  “I’m not sure. He saw a man he knew buying something from China Upton, and went over to say hello. Then he went outside with him for a few minutes. When he got back, he was like you saw him.”

  “Maybe all he needs is a chance to catch up with old friends.”

  “Maybe it was what the friend gave him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Augustus smelled like he’d been smoking.”

  “Augustus doesn’t smoke.”

  “I’m not talking about tobacco.”

  “Pot? Are you sure?”

  “The smell is distinctive. It is available in Byerly, isn’t it?”

  “Are you kidding? All those old tobacco fields are perfect for growing pot—it’s all over the place. But I don’t think Augustus would ever smoke.”

  “It makes the way he’s been behaving more understandable. You remember how he disappeared before dinner last night? When he came back, his eyes were red and he smelled like perfume. Don’t you remember Vasti mentioning it?”

  “So he uses after-shave. That doesn’t make him a drug addict.”

  “I didn’t say he was an addict. I just said that he tokes. We know people who smoke pot. I’ve done it a few times myself, and so have you. We even inhaled.”

  “That’s not funny!”

  He looked at my face. “Why are you so upset?”

  “I don’t know,” I had to admit. Just last week I’d argued for the legalization of marijuana with a coworker. And like Richard said, we have friends who smoke. So why was I bothered by Augustus smoking? “It’s just that what you’re saying makes it sound like he’s hooked on the stuff. I don’t like that, any more than I’d like him being an alcoholic.”

  “Let’s not overreact. For all we know, last night and today are the only times he’s smoked.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but from what I knew about pot, it took regular use to explain the behavior changes the family had been seeing in Augustus. Solving a murder was one thing—I didn’t think I was up to solving my cousin’s problem, too, especially not if his parents got wind of it. Maybe Aunt Nora could deal with it, but I couldn’t imagine Uncle Buddy allowing pot in his house.

  Chapter 19

  I was so glad when Bender used the loudspeaker to announce that the flea market would be closing in fifteen minutes. My feet were killing me, my back hurt from bending over to get things out from under the table, and I was tired of asking questions. In other words, I was worn slap out, and I could tell Richard felt the same way. “Fifteen more minutes,” I repeated, like it was a prayer.

  Aunt Maggie took pity on us and said, “We may as well close up now.” I would have cheered if I’d had the energy, but then she said, “We’ve still got to get packed up for the auction.”

  I just stared at her. It was Richard who asked, “What auction?”

  “Did I not tell y’all? There’s an auction over at Red Clark’s barn tonight. He usually sells on the last Saturday of the month, but Vasti talked him into holding a charity auction. We dealers make the same money, but the percentage we usually pay to Red goes to the charity.”

  “You don’t need us to go, do you?” I asked.

  “I thought y’all would want to go and talk to people. Most of the dealers are going to be there.”

  I was about to point out that we’d see all of the dealers at the flea market the next day, but she added, “Besides, I could use some help loading and unloading.”

  Richard and I looked at each other an
d shrugged simultaneously. I said, “We didn’t have any plans for tonight, anyway.” Other than soaking our feet and rubbing each other’s backs, that is.

  “Good. Some of your aunts are going to be there, too. Vasti put Nora in charge of the refreshments.”

  That cheered me up. Aunt Nora can make a sliced cheese sandwich into a meal. Imagining what she might have cooked up for the auction gave me enough energy to wrap up the pieces Aunt Maggie handed me and pack them into boxes. Meanwhile, Richard ferried boxes out to Aunt Maggie’s car.

  “I’ve been saving these Morton candlesticks for a woman who asked if I’d ever had a pair,” Aunt Maggie said, holding up two brown pottery candlesticks, “but somebody said she’s moved, so I think I’ll take them to the auction. I’ll probably get more money for them that way. Folks get crazy at auctions, especially when they’re for charity. Wrap them real careful, Laurie Anne.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” They were so tall that I wanted to make sure I had a big enough box first, so I put them down so I could rummage around. While I had my head under a table, I heard a voice call out, “Miz Burnette, have you got a minute?”

  “Just what I need,” Aunt Maggie said under her breath. “Laurie Anne, hide those candlesticks.”

  I was too tired to ask for an explanation. I just grabbed a sheet and covered them up, then looked to see who was coming. It was no wonder that Aunt Maggie was looking less than thrilled. Mavis and Mary Maude were coming our way.

  Richard said, “Just one quote about the weird sisters. That’s all I ask.”

  “Surely there’s something from Poe or Stephen King you can use,” I said.

  “Miz Burnette, have you got a minute?” Mavis said again, puffing a little from exertion.

  “What can I do for you?” Aunt Maggie asked.

  “Have you heard what Evan Cawthorne is going to do?” Mavis asked.

  “That depends on what you’re talking about.”

  “We’re talking about him giving Carney’s spot to Tammy and J.B.!” Mary Maude thundered. Mary Maude usually thunders. “That should be our spot!”

  “We did start selling out here before they did,” Mavis said.

  “I remember y’all came out here one weekend,” Aunt Maggie said, “but y’all didn’t start coming out regular until after Tammy and J.B.”

  “What’s that got to do with it?” Mary Maude said, still thundering.

  “Hush, Sister,” Mavis said. “Miz Burnette is right.” Mavis and Mary Maude had been caught up in a game of good cop/bad cop for as long as anybody in town could remember. Mavis was always the good cop, but that didn’t mean she was a bit more trustworthy than her sister. At least Mary Maude didn’t try to fool you into thinking she was on your side.

  “It just doesn’t seem right,” Mavis went on. “I mean, what kind of customers are those two going to bring in with all that biker paraphernalia?”

  Aunt Maggie shrugged. “People pay big money for that stuff.”

  Mavis kept on as if Aunt Maggie hadn’t spoken. “Sister and I sell genuine collectibles, things you wouldn’t be ashamed to buy. Like you, Miz Burnette. Wouldn’t it be better for us to be set up across from each other?”

  Aunt Maggie couldn’t quite hide her shudder, but all she said was, “It doesn’t matter what I think. Evan Cawthorne is in charge, not me.”

  “But Evan listens to Bender, and Bender does anything you want,” Mary Maude said. “What do you do? Bribe him?”

  It wasn’t worth an answer, so Aunt Maggie didn’t give her one. She did give her a strong look, but it was a wasted effort. That kind of thing never works on Mary Maude.

  Mavis said, “Maybe I could explain to Evan how hard it is for us to load and unload our merchandise every week. Our things are fragile, so it takes a long time to wrap it all up. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Miz Burnette? At your age, and all. As hard as it is for us to be toting boxes, it must be even worse for you.” Even when she was trying to butter up Aunt Maggie, she couldn’t resist poking at her. “Tammy is a young girl, and that man she lives with is as strong as a horse—they don’t have aches and pains like Mary Maude and I do. I swear, my arthritis gets so bad that I can hardly move come Monday morning.”

  “It seems to me that if you two aren’t up to it, you should quit selling out here,” Aunt Maggie said. “I don’t imagine you need the money, what with your inheritance and what Mr. Foy brings in.”

  I was impressed. Aunt Maggie had managed to get in two digs, one at the sisters’ claims to vast wealth and one to the fact that Mary Maude’s husband hadn’t done a day’s work in years. Supposedly he was on disability, but I don’t think anybody in Byerly believed that his leg still bothered him. If he’d been hurt at Walters Mill, Big Bill would have made sure that he didn’t get away with cheating; but he’d been working for Duke Power when he was injured, and a company that big has plenty of loopholes to slip in and out of.

  “Of course we don’t need the money,” Mary Maude said indignantly. “That’s not the point.”

  “The point is that we’ve been setting up here almost as long as they have,” Mavis said.

  “ ‘Almost’ only counts in horseshoes,” Aunt Maggie said. “Y’all can go talk to Evan if you want, but you’d be wasting your breath.”

  Mavis said, “What about Tammy? She seems like a nice enough girl, other than the company she keeps. Maybe you could ask her to switch with us. They can have the next indoor spot.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Aunt Maggie said. Mavis waited for her to go on, but no explanation was forthcoming.

  Finally Mavis pinched her face up. “I can see we’re wasting our time here. Some people aren’t willing to help a neighbor.” She turned to go, but Mary Maude was staring at the sheet-covered candlesticks.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “New merchandise,” I answered, reasonably sure that Aunt Maggie wouldn’t mind my saying that much.

  “What have you got it covered up for?”

  I thought up a couple of excuses, but decided to follow Aunt Maggie’s lead. “Because Aunt Maggie told me to.”

  Mary Maude knew Aunt Maggie wasn’t going to explain, so she stomped after Mavis. Then she turned around and stomped back. “I hear there’s going to be an auction tonight,” she said, “but I don’t know where it’s going to be.”

  Since we were packing for the charity auction, I expected Aunt Maggie to tell her about it. Instead she said, “Is that right? We’re visiting family tonight.”

  Mary Maude looked vaguely suspicious, but apparently didn’t figure out that Aunt Maggie hadn’t answered her. “There must be somebody around here who knows,” she said, and of course, stomped away.

  “Please tell me that those two are suspects,” Richard said once they were safely out of earshot.

  Aunt Maggie said, “I suppose it’s possible, but Carney never did anything to them that I know of. Maybe they thought they were going to get his booth, but I don’t think even those two would kill a man just to get at his booth.”

  “Darn. I’d really enjoy investigating them.” He looked at the candlesticks I’d covered. “Why were we hiding those from them?”

  “Because Mary Maude and Mavis don’t bother to do research to see what’s selling and how much to charge. They snoop around everybody else’s booths, and price everything just enough lower that people will buy from them. I don’t mind them charging less than me, but I do mind them using my own know-how against me.”

  “When did they get into the business?” I asked. I’d never known them to do much of anything. Nobody knew exactly how much money they had, but from what they said, they’d inherited enough from their father to live on, if not enough to be happy with. Then again, maybe no amount of money would have made them happy.

  “They first came out here to sell some furniture and dishes from their late nephew’s estate, but they priced things all out of whack. They overpriced some cheap Taiwan junk because it was new and shiny, and let some nice o
ld pieces go for practically nothing. I got a few things from them myself, and sold them for right much more than I’d paid for them.

  “After they’d sold what they could, they looked around and realized how much money they could have made if they’d known what they were doing.”

  “That must have been aggravating,” I said.

  “We all go through that when we’re new. It makes me right embarrassed to think of the pieces I sold for a tenth of what they’re worth. But that’s the business. It’s not what you have—it’s what you know. I learned from my mistakes. I got books and I talked to other dealers. Mary Maude and Mavis just copy everybody else. That first weekend they saw how much old furniture goes for, so they spent a month getting together old bed stands, chests, and tables—anything they could drag out of their attic.”

  “In the meantime, Tammy and J.B. set up here and got on Evan’s waiting list for an inside spot,” Richard interjected.

  Aunt Maggie nodded. “Mavis and Mary Maude showed up again, expecting to get rich in one weekend, but they hadn’t done their homework. They didn’t know which pieces were solid and which were veneer, and they hadn’t made any repairs, or even bothered to clean anything. There’s a difference between antique and old, and between old and junk. Most of what they had was junk, and it didn’t sell. After a few weekends, they gave it up.

  “By then they’d seen how ball cards were selling, so next they showed up with a bunch of them, but they still hadn’t bothered to check out the field. All they had were cards nobody wanted. A few weeks later, they tried something new. I don’t know how many different lines they’ve tried to sell.”

  “Now they’re competing with you,” I said.

  “They’re trying to.” It was plain from the look on her face that she wasn’t happy about it. “A couple of months ago Mary Maude started checking my prices and listening to me talk to my customers, so it was no big surprise when they showed up with glassware. They want to move in on my suppliers, too, so they’re always trying to find out which auctions I go to.”

  “Which explains why you didn’t want to tell them about tonight’s auction,” Richard said.