Death to the Highest Bidder: A Jill Andrews Cozy Mystery #2

by Nicole Ellis

  In my office, I flipped on the light switch and plopped down on my desk chair. I hadn’t been working at the Boathouse for very long, and my office reflected that. Other than a calendar from a health insurance company, the walls were blank and boring. I’d need to enlist Mikey to create some colorful artwork to spice up the place. For now, though, I appreciated the austere environment without anything to distract me from my work.

  Numerous client files and scraps of notes about the auction stared up at me from my desk. I took a calming breath and dug in, not emerging until lunchtime.

  3

  After lunch, I dove back into my work, determined to get most of it done so that I could enjoy happy hour with Desi. Somehow, by the end of the day, my desk was almost clear of priority items. Lincoln and Beth had left already with the kids, and there weren’t any events scheduled for that evening, so I was alone in the building. They’d locked the door and, when Desi arrived, she pushed the call button, which rang in the offices.

  “It’s time to party!” she said over the intercom.

  “Ha ha. Where’s your key?”

  “I forgot it at home. Now open the door!”

  I buzzed her in. I wouldn’t call going out to happy hour partying, but at thirty-four years old with two young kids, that was as close as I was going to get. And, hey, it was a night out without the munchkins.

  She appeared at my door with full makeup on, wearing a cute white and pink flowered sundress. Other than the fact that she was carrying Lina in her arms, you’d never know she’d had a baby only the month before. I raised an eyebrow.

  “Were we dressing up?” I stared down at my sensible skirt and plain green blouse.

  “Oh, you look fine. I’m living it up tonight.” Her blue eyes twinkled, and she twirled around, causing the pleats on her skirt to billow out. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone anywhere fun without a preschooler in tow.”

  “Ok then.” I checked the clock on my computer. Nancy had made it very clear that I needed to pick up the auction donation from her brother-in-law at precisely six o’clock. There wasn’t time for me to stop at home to change my clothes. My professional clothes would have to do.

  “Are we taking my car or yours?” Desi asked, jangling her keys.

  “I’ll drive. I’m not sure how big this basket is, so it’s probably better to bring my van than your car. You can clip Lina’s car seat into the base in our car.”

  “Good point, your minivan is bigger. Now that I’ve got two kids, I might need to get one of those myself to lug them and all their gear. Once you get those giant car seats in, there’s no room left in the back seat.”

  I turned off the lights in my office, did a quick check of the other rooms to make sure everything was good to go for the evening, and locked up. Desi’s car was the only other vehicle in the lot. A summer breeze came off the water, blowing strands of my long red hair out of the messy bun I’d created atop my head. I removed the hair tie in the car and let my hair fall freely to my shoulders. The older kids were out with their grandparents, Desi and I were on our way to have fun after a brief stop off at Ericksville Espresso, and I wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that, not even Nancy.

  When we arrived at Ericksville Espresso, it was deserted, except for one champagne-colored Lexus parked in a spot marked ‘reserved’ near the front door. All of the workers must have gone home already. We exited the car and the stench of roasting coffee beans hit us.

  Desi wrinkled her nose and protectively covered a sleeping Lina’s head with the cloth covering of her baby carrier. “I love coffee, but I can never get over how gross the beans smell when they’re roasting. It would be cool to see the roasting area though.”

  “No kidding, it’s really bad.” I’d driven past the building before and smelled the coffee beans, but I’d never encountered it full force. “But I don’t think we’ll have a chance to tour the facility. We’re here to pick up the auction basket, nothing else.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her and grinned. “Hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you can arrange with Louis for a private tour some other day.”

  Desi smirked and slugged me in the arm. I laughed, then pushed open the door to the office portion of the industrial building. Inside, there was a receptionist’s desk with a computer and a counter to greet customers, but it was empty. The air-conditioning blew from an overhead vent, chilling the room and making the distinctive roasting odor less intense.

  “Where is everyone?” Desi asked.

  “Louis? Mr. Mahoney? It’s Jill Andrews,” I called out. “I’m here for your donation to the preschool auction.” I turned to Desi. “It doesn’t look like he’s here, but I’m sure Nancy said six o’clock.”

  She winked at me and put her hand on the door in the rear of the office, which I assumed led to the warehouse. “Well, you did promise to pick up the donation. Maybe it’s in here.”

  I knew what she was up to. “You just want to see the warehouse.”

  “I want you to fulfill your promise to Nancy,” she said innocently. “If that just happens to mean we get to see the rest of the building, well, that’s just icing on the cake.”

  “Uh huh.” I motioned for her to open the door. “You might be right though. What if he’s back there in his office and didn’t hear us come in? Nancy will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t manage to do something so simple as pick up the auction basket.” For all that I was teasing Desi about her desire to see the inside of the facility, I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself.

  I followed her through the door and into a vast warehouse. In the corner was a roasting machine and packaging materials. The room was quiet, so the roaster must not have been running at the moment, although the odor hinted that it had been used recently.

  “So cool. I love factory tours.” Her gaze was fixed on the roaster.

  “Desi, this isn’t a tour. We’re here for the basket, remember?” I scanned the room for any sign of Louis. I didn’t expect to see him in there, but you never knew how involved an owner would be with business operations.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” She wandered over to the assembly line and picked up a package of labels with an image of espresso beans on them and the words, Willowby Dark Roast. “Hey, this is the type of beans I get for the café. I wonder if I could buy some of these one pound bags of beans to sell in the store. Maybe I could even get him to create a new blend for me.” She flipped over the back of a bag and read the label. “How does The BeansTalk Blend sound?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “I’m going to try to find Louis. Don’t get into any trouble.”

  She waved her hand in the air at me and strolled over to the roasting machine, intent on continuing her impromptu tour.

  In the far corner of the warehouse were two closed doors, both marked “Office.” I strode over to one and knocked on the door. No lights were visible under the door, so I knocked on the other one. A soft glow came through cracks in the doorframe, but no one answered.

  I checked over my shoulder. Desi was examining every part of the roasting and packaging operation. I knocked again. Nothing. The door to a small bathroom was ajar, and the light was off. I walked over to the only other door in the warehouse, which was labeled “Break Room.” I pushed it open and peeked inside. The light was on and a cup of coffee sat under the mouth of the single-cup coffee maker, but there wasn’t anyone there. I touched the ceramic coffee mug. Lukewarm.

  Ok, so someone had been here recently. Where was Louis? If Nancy had told me the wrong time after all that, I was going to be mad. I knocked again on the door to the office that had lights on. Nothing. I tried the knob, and it turned easily.

  “Mr. Mahoney?” I said as I opened the door. The office was small but expensively furnished with a dark-stained oak desk and a leather desk chair. Abstract art paintings hung on the walls. The overhead light and the computer were on, but I didn’t see Louis. Thick rugs covered most of the hardwood floor, in rich contrast to the austere cement floors of the rest of the warehouse. It
wasn’t how I’d decorate an office, but it gave me ideas for my own.

  On the desk was a wicker gift basket, wrapped in plastic. Was that the auction basket? It was smaller than I’d expected, especially if it contained an espresso machine like Nancy had bragged about.

  I crossed the room to check it out. Before I reached the side of the desk closest to the basket, I almost tripped on a leg. A man, who I assumed was Louis Mahoney, lay sprawled between an ergonomic desk chair and the desk. I screamed for Desi, then swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and forced myself to move closer to him. His arms were outstretched, as if grabbing for something, and the middle drawer to the desk was open. Paper clips, some hard candy, and a few rubber bands were strewn across the floor next to the man.

  His face was shadowed by the desk, and I knelt on the rug to see it closer up. His lips were purple and puffy, and his eyelids were swollen so badly that I couldn’t see his eyes. There was no way he was alive. Just in case, I felt for a pulse, but his skin was cool and his heartbeat non-existent.

  “What’s going on?” Desi asked as she burst through the door. “I was going to smell some of the other beans. This place is awesome! They should totally offer public tours.”

  I grabbed her wrist and drug her over to the desk, pointing at the body on the floor. “That is what’s going on.”

  The color drained from her face. “Oh my gosh. Is that Louis Mahoney?” She handed me Lina and dropped down to him to check for a pulse too. “It is. And he’s dead,” she said in a hollow voice.

  “I know.” To me, my voice sounded far-off, like it was coming out of someone else’s mouth.

  “What do we do?” She looked very unlike her usual take-charge self.

  I handed Lina back to her and pulled out my phone.

  “I’ll call for help.” With trembling fingers, I called 911. They said they’d send an ambulance and to stay with him.

  “Do you think he had a heart attack?” Desi inched backward toward the door, her eyes glued to the body. I joined her.

  “I don’t know.” We hovered silently in the doorway, alternating between staring at each other and the body.

  The basket on the desk caught my eye again. I knew I should respect the dead and stay away from the body, but curiosity got the best of me.

  “Do you think that’s the auction donation?” I whispered to Desi. After stumbling on Louis’s body, I’d completely forgotten the reason I’d come over near his desk in the first place.

  “I don’t know, but you can’t take it now.” She didn’t move from the doorway.

  I ignored her and tiptoed closer to the basket. It wasn’t full of coffee products as Nancy had promised. The plastic encasing the wicker basket had been unwrapped and lay in folds beneath the basket. I nudged the basket to turn it slightly, the plastic crackling as it moved. It still contained a bottle of chocolate wine. Chocolate truffles were scattered across the desk. A fancy violet ribbon with “Watkins Real Estate” stretched across the basket like a sash on a beauty pageant queen. An ornate bow in a slightly different shade of purple lay on the desk next to it. I sucked in my breath.

  “Desi,” I hissed. “It’s not the auction basket—it’s from Brenda.”

  “Brenda?” she asked. “As in our Brenda? Sara and Dara’s mom? Why would there be a basket from her here?”

  “Yes, Brenda from the preschool.” Our friend Brenda Watkins owned a successful real estate firm in Ericksville. “It looks like something she’d give a client.”

  Desi approached the desk. She pointed at something next to the basket. “That doesn’t look like something you’d say to a business associate.”

  I followed her gaze to a piece of thick card stock. Someone had written on it with loopy cursive penmanship.

  Louis—I’m looking forward to seeing you Friday night and sharing the bottle of wine. I know it’s your favorite. I’ll see you at my place at seven. Kisses, Brenda.

  Acid churned in my stomach. I turned to Desi, my eyes wide. “Wait, what? Do you think she was dating him?” I’d known her for two years, and Brenda had never seemed the type to go out with a married man. Her ex-husband was now her ex because he’d cheated on her. She had no tolerance for cheaters.

  Desi shrugged. “I don’t know, but something was going on between her and Louis, and I don’t think it was a simple business transaction.”

  “Should we hide the note? What if his wife sees it?” I reached out to touch the note, and she swatted my hand away.

  “Don’t.”

  “Why not? Would you want to find something like this in your husband’s office?”

  “Tomàs would never cheat on me.” She glanced at the note. “But he also would never forgive me if I messed with the scene of someone’s death.”

  I sighed. “Ok, but I hate to see Brenda involved with this. Now everyone will see the card and think badly of her. I’m sure there’s a logical reason for her to have sent him the basket.”

  “Probably.” Desi didn’t look too certain.

  The whole situation seemed surreal and, as we contemplated the meaning of the basket, we almost forget that hidden on the other side of the desk was a dead man.

  Voices floated into the office. We’d been so isolated in the back of the warehouse that I hadn’t heard the ambulance approach the building or the emergency personnel enter.

  “We’re back here,” I called out.

  Two EMTs burst into the room and checked the man’s pulse. Desi and I left the room to allow them to do their thing. “He’s gone,” one of the EMTs said loudly to his partner as we exited.

  “What do we do now?” Desi whispered to me. The roasting coffee smell was making me dizzy. I didn’t know how anyone could stand to be in there for very long. “Are we allowed to leave?”

  “I don’t know. When I found Mr. Westen’s body, the police came right away.”

  “Well, good thing you have experience in this. This is nerve-wracking.”

  I glared at her. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to have experience in.

  Lina whimpered and stirred in her front pack. As if on cue, the police showed up. Desi and I answered all of their questions and were finally allowed to leave after an hour, probably because the police didn’t want to hear Lina’s cries anymore.

  When we were safely in my minivan in the parking lot and out of earshot of the emergency personnel, we started talking over each other.

  “Do you think he had a heart attack?” she asked.

  “Do you think he was murdered?” I asked at the same time.

  We stared at each other.

  “Sheesh. This is crazy.” Desi gazed out the window and then back at me. “Why would you think he was murdered?”

  “I don’t know. The police were asking a lot of questions.” I shot a glance at the building. “Nancy is going to kill me for not getting that auction donation.”

  “I think you have an excuse,” she said. “Besides, she’ll be too busy mourning him to worry about the basket.”

  “I guess.” I stared back at the building. Red and blue lights flashed atop the two police cars and an aide car in the parking lot. The door to the lobby had been propped open to allow access. As I watched, a third police car pulled up. I turned around to view the middle seats in my van. Even Lina’s eyes were fixed on the happenings outside.

  “Do you think Tomàs is here?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should get out of here before he finds out I was involved with this. He tends to get a little overprotective when he thinks I’m in danger.”

  “He loves you. And you know he’s going to find out anyway.”

  “Yeah, I know, but maybe I can keep him from finding out for a few hours. Hey, I’m starving. Do you still want to get something to eat?” She pulled her phone to check a website. “The Alistair’s menu says they serve food until ten, so we still have time.”

  My mouth dropped open. “How can you eat after that?”

  “I can always eat.” Sh
e shrugged. “I’m a nursing mother. I’ve got to get those extra calories in.”

  I didn’t feel that hungry after visiting Ericksville Espresso, but I figured going out to eat would be a better distraction than sitting at home alone, reliving the memory of seeing Louis’s body. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  As we were driving away from the warehouse, a black BMW roared past us. Desi pulled over to the side of the road, and we watched in the rearview mirror as the car pulled up to Ericksville Espresso and a woman with blonde hair jumped out and ran over to the police officers.

  “Do you think that’s his wife?” Desi’s eyes were glued to the mirror.

  I craned my head around, trying to get a better look. “I don’t know. Nancy said that I had to be here at six because he was going out to dinner with his wife, so maybe he didn’t come home and she grew worried.” I shrugged. “I’d probably do that if Adam didn’t come home if we had plans and I couldn’t reach him on the phone.”

  “I guess.” She tore herself away from the mirror and turned to me, chewing on her lower lip. “I do feel a little guilty about leaving the note like that. If that’s his wife, she’s probably going to see it, just as we left it.”

  “Yeah.” I was quiet for a moment. “You were right though. We couldn’t touch it. Not if this wasn’t a natural death.”

  She shivered. “I really hope you’re totally off base with thinking he could have been murdered. With the exception of Mr. Westen, that kind of thing just doesn’t happen in our little town.”

  “Ericksville may be a small town, but bad things can happen anywhere.” I turned back around. “Can we get out of here? I’d like to try to forget this ever happened, ok?”

  “Me too.” Desi put the car in drive and maneuvered back onto the street.

  4

  To my relief, Nancy wasn’t at the preschool when I brought Mikey there the next morning. I wasn’t positive she’d think finding Louis’s body was an excuse for not getting the basket, and I didn’t want to talk to her about the basket or her brother-in-law. To tell the truth, the woman scared me a little.