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

by Sherry Blakeley

  “What?”

  “The man’s infatuated with himself. He seems to have deep blue eyes – or at least one of them. And he must have at least four hands.”

  “Ha! That doesn’t sound so bad,” Jasper said.

  “Two tall lattes, one skinny, one caramel mocha!” the coffee barista called.

  They got their coffees and took them to their favorite table near the front window. For a Monday mid-morning the place was busy with lap-toppers and people reading newspapers or just gazing out into the sunny day. Jasper wondered how all these people could get away from work. Didn’t any of them have regular jobs? Being an auctioneer and a professional psychic medium had their perks, she guessed. Although Jasper knew that once a few more days had gone by, people would expect her to put aside whatever grief she was experiencing in the wake of Jimmy’s death and get back on track. She wished she could get all these nameless, faceless people out of her head, but they were always there cajoling and criticizing. She sighed.

  “Drink up, Sis,” Cookie said, reading her thoughts. “We have all the time in the world here. So let’s just relax and savor.”

  Jasper sipped her skinny and Cookie sighed as she took a small but pleasurable slurp of her caramel mocha. Cookie asked, “Sean seems like a nice guy. But his work is really…well, wild.”

  “You said ‘crazy.’”

  “I mean, Sis, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  Jasper smiled with pride. “Yay! That’s great. I’ll tell Sean you said so. I mean if I see him again.” She leaned across the table, intent on conveying Sean’s intensity. “That’s what he’s striving for. Super originality. He says, ‘Why bother making something if somebody else can do the same thing.’”

  “Hmm, that’s a thought,” Cookie said. She traced her finger around the rim of her mug. Hers was sunny yellow today. Jasper had requested blue.

  “Something bothering you?”

  “I’ve never known an artist before. I mean not up close and personal,” Cookie said.

  “So. Me either. He’s just a guy who happens to make art for a living.” Jasper shrugged. She felt her shoulders rising defensively.

  “Hey, you know I’m on your side, Sis. It’s just that how can he afford that big place he has in the country – what did you say, 20 acres? Does he really sell enough art to be able to live better than a lot of us?”

  “Well, there are his inventions,” Jasper said. She drank down some more latte.

  “What? Toys for cats and dogs? That’s not like a cure for cancer – “

  “I’m not sure you can patent that.”

  “Are you sure? Ask your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Hush.”

  “But that’s not the point.” Cookie sipped more of her rich latte. She laughed and shook a finger at her sister. “You’re trying to change the subject! Okay, okay, I’ll lay off. But I just want to look after my little sister.”

  “Born two minutes before me does not a big sister make!” Jasper protested. “Two lousy minutes and you’re going to hold that against me the rest of my life. Or our lives. Or whatever. Not fair, not fair, not fair.”

  “You’re a nut,” Cookie said fondly. “Maybe you and that crazy artist deserve each other.” Her tone was kind and Jasper didn’t take offense.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Too soon to tell. Here’s to the future and whatever it holds.”

  They clinked mugs. Jasper added, “And just don’t tell me what that is, okay? I’d rather find out on my own.”

  “I keep telling you. I’m not Ms. Psychic Predictions. Especially when it comes to family matters.” Cookie and Jasper exchanged a somber look. Cookie looked down at the table.

  Jasper reached for her hand. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. Jimmy lived his own life. He made his own decisions.”

  Cookie slumped, deep furrows between her brows. “But, Sis, why didn’t I get anything before it happened? No chills, no foreboding, no dreams. And worst of all, no Mom. Wouldn’t you think she’d care enough to speak up ahead of time?”

  “Now you’re being silly. You’re always telling me that sometimes things happen because they’re meant to happen. Maybe if you had gotten some hint that Jimmy might be heading for a fall, you would’ve stepped in. But who’s to say he would have listened to you anyway? Did he ever take advice from anybody – especially us?”

  “You’ve got a point there, girlfriend.” The sisters double clinked their mugs. “I’ve got to get a to-go cup,” Cookie said, standing and picking up her oversize and highly fashionable purse.

  “What happened to sit and savor?” Jasper felt separation anxiety kick up inside like a cat in a cage on its way to the vet. She reached for her sister’s hand. Cookie leaned down to kiss Jasper on the cheek.

  “Family matters.”

  “Yeah it does,” Jasper said.

  “Don’t try guilting me. I’m better at it than you are.”

  “Am not.”

  “Am too.” Cookie smiled fondly. “See you at three.” She made her way to the counter.

  Jasper turned her attention to her mug, studying the foam as if somebody’s life depended on it, as if she could catch any glimpse of wisdom in the cloudy coffee.

  ***

  Cookie’s afternoon appointment with Emily and Kiefer Austring was already underway when Jasper walked into the waiting room of Psychic Medium Rare. She’d waited too long before leaving the auction house, fearful of raising Ted’s ire for ducking out twice in one day. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the real boss. His maleness and his booming voice made it hard for her to step out of line.

  A placard hanging by a decorative brass nail on the door to Cookie’s consultation room proclaimed:

  SESSION IN PROGRESS. SHHHH PLEASE!

  There was a second message scribbled on a post-it note and stuck below.

  Jasper, this means You!

  No doubt about it – Cookie didn’t want her in on the meeting with the Austrings. Who knows what all they wanted to go into without a nosy auctioneer intruding. Maybe checking on the fingers and toes of their unborn baby and whether or not they were expecting the future president of the United States or at least a member of Congress.

  Knowing that Cookie would invite her in when it came to talking about the house where Jimmy had died, Jasper picked out a magazine, choosing between Psychic Phenom and a stack of others, chose Traditional Home, and perched on the Rococo revival settee Cookie had bought at the auction. Jasper had just begun to envision the perfect cottage garden she might one day make for herself if she ever had a home she could truly call her own, when the door to the inner office opened. Cookie stuck her head out and beckoned with a formal nod of the head.

  “Hi!” she said and reached to hug her sister.

  “Love you too,” Cookie whispered. Her hug was light. Jasper surmised that Cookie’s spirit was otherwise engaged. She stepped in to the office and admired the way the light filtered in through the lace curtains Cookie had chosen, one of her few brand new purchases.

  The Austrings looked calmer than when Jasper had first met them the night of Stepfather Turned Body. In Cookie’s deep red wingbacks, they sat holding hands across the small angled divide between them. The box of blue tissues on the piecrust table had been well used it appeared, since several crumpled tissues surrounded it. Jasper greeted Emily and Kiefer and took the place Cookie nodded her to, on a folding chair brought in for this unusually large group reading. Consultation. Meeting. Cookie herself sat in the oak desk chair she had wheeled over from her roll-top desk, two more nice auction buys.

  Jasper felt some pride in the appearance of her sister’s office. It had a nice, rosy, comforting glow about it. Something very pink attracted her attention out of the corner of her eye. Then it was gone. Maybe Cookie’s energy itself had something to do with the room’s glow.

  Cookie directed everyone to take a full, deep breath.

  Jasper did
her best but found that suddenly she had a tickle in her throat. She tried to fight it off but it erupted into a full-fledged cough. “Sorry, everyone.” She headed for the tissue box. Kiefer grabbed it off the table and tossed it to her. “Well, thanks,” Jasper said. She saw a brief look of annoyance cross Emily’s face. Jeez, these people are impatient. She wondered to what lengths they would go to get into the Clippert house as soon as possible and make it their own. Jasper got back to her chair, kept her posture erect because she knew that was important for receiving good energy, and found her cough retreat as her breathing grew deep and regular.

  Cookie announced that there was someone present.

  Jasper squinched her eyes shut and clapped the tissue across her mouth. I don’t want to see anybody. I don’t want to hear anybody. And nobody touch me. Please, God and angels and all good types. It was a frequent prayer for Jasper. Cookie often reminded her that their horoscopes matched and they had the same gifts they could choose to develop or not. “Not!” Jasper would always say.

  “Just because you have a gift doesn’t mean you have to develop it,” Cookie would reassure her.

  “Fine, fine, fine.” And Jasper would change the subject.

  “Shhh, I’m trying to tune in,” Cookie said. Jasper wondered if she had spoken aloud. “It’s a man standing in the position of father,” Cookie said. Jasper’s spine shivered suddenly like an unexpected chiropractic maneuver had just taken her by surprise. She sat up straighter. Cookie said, “He says he doesn’t want you to name the baby for him.”

  The Austrings bent forward.

  ”I? E? E-E-E-E-E,” Cookie said. “Ilky? Evil? ”

  Jasper shuddered.

  Kiefer Austring put a hand lightly over Emily’s mouth.

  “Evelyn? Like that?” Cookie pronounced the name British style with a long “e.”

  “Evelyn.” Kiefer said. “My dad. People called him ‘Inky.’”

  “I told you he stood in the father’s position,” Cookie said, a bit more sharply than Jasper might have expected.

  Jasper swallowed down a giggle. She could understand not wanting to name a baby boy Evelyn. It just didn’t sound modern enough. Maybe not for a girl either. Although Evie or Evvie weren’t such bad nicknames. And how about ‘Inky’? Jasper would smile with delight if she were ever introduced to anyone in the flesh named Inky, man, woman, girl, boy, dog, cat.

  “Why – why is he here?” Emily asked.

  “Because you wanted to talk to someone and he’s ready to talk. Yes, yes,” Cookie said. She touched a hand to her ear as if she were adjusting a headset. “Slow down a bit. “He says he has to hurry because someone’s trying to shove him out of the way. He wants you to return the baby car seat you bought and get a better one for his grandchild. He says go to Milwaukee or Chicago. Don’t order on-line. He doesn’t trust the Internet.”

  Emily shook her head from side to side. “That’s Inky. He never approved of me,” she whispered.

  “He’s holding out a pink rose. He’s saying he’s sorry. I think. The other man is really pushy. Let him finish!”

  Kiefer grabbed Cookie’s shoulders. “Let him finish!” he shouted in her sister’s face.

  Jasper gripped him by the back of his well-pressed shirt. “You leave her alone! She can’t help what they’re doing on the other side.”

  “You leave him alone!” Emily said. From behind, she seized Jasper’s wrists and tried to pry them off her husband.

  Suddenly, Jasper felt herself diving forward, following Cookie’s backward fall with the Austrings sandwiching her between them. The four of them landed in a heap on the floor.

  “Everybody off,” Cookie muttered.

  They all untangled and got slowly to their feet. Several hands reached down to help Cookie but she managed on her own. Kiefer picked up her chair. He apologized. “I think I got a little carried away there,” he said.

  “His father always has that effect,” Emily said. Kiefer shot her a look that, Jasper thought, did not bode well for a happy evening ahead. They were about to resume their seats, but Cookie announced that the session was finished.

  “But we didn’t get our full hour,” Kiefer said.

  “No, we didn’t get our money’s worth,” Emily said.

  “You haven’t paid me anything,” Cookie said.

  “But we planned to.” Kiefer brought out his wallet. He whispered in his wife’s ear and she whispered back. He dug out two ten dollar bills and flared them out toward Cookie.

  Jasper opened her mouth to protest, but Cookie stood silently, arms folded.

  “Alright,” Kiefer grumbled. He dug out an additional ten and handed the 30 to Cookie who accepted the half-payment. “Thank you,” she said. She escorted them to the door of her consultation room. “You know,” she said quietly, “you did get to hear from your dad, dad-in-law.”

  The Austrings paused. “You’re right,” Kiefer said. He shook hands with Cookie and with Jasper.

  “If only that awful other man hadn’t interrupted,” Emily said. “I wonder who that was.”

  Cookie smiled and shook her head. Jasper knew that Cookie knew but was not sharing with the Austrings who now headed toward the stairs, talking to each other. They paused and Kiefer turned back toward Cookie and Jasper. “So you’ll still be coming over to the new house to do the clearing?”

  “Oh yes,” Cookie said. “The current owner’s paying for that.”

  “Well, thanks. Thanks again,” Kiefer said. He hurried his wife away.

  Behind the closed door of Cookie’s office, Jasper asked, “Okay, Sis. Who was the interloper?”

  Cookie smiled in that annoying older twin kind of way she had sometimes. “You tell me.”

  “Oh, come on,” Jasper began to complain. Then it came to her. A clear picture in her head. Short man. Sturdy stance. Pushy. Dressed in a suit jacket and tie – just like he was getting ready to conduct a fund-raising auction. “Jimmy! It was Jimmy, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh. You got it.”

  “Oh, blessed cheese-head,” Jasper said.

  “That just about sums it up,” Cookie said.

  Chapter 21

  “Bid and buy at Biggs!” Grace recited into the phone so quickly that she could’ve been an auctioneer herself. It came out sounding like BiddenbuyitBiggs. “Yeah, yeah. Right, right. We never buy things. You wouldn’t want us to. We take stuff on consignment.

  “Now listen, you big bag of wind! What if we paid you 50 bucks and we coulda got you a hundred on auction? Well, if you do find another auctioneer who’ll buy your stuff outright, just remember – he’s a crook! Thanks for calling,” she added in a super sweet voice.

  She slammed the phone down on the marble countertop. “Another worthless windbag,” “Seems like they’re asking to be cheated. What’s up with you?” she asked Jasper who stood waiting just inside the office.

  “I mean, you’ve been here a lot longer than I have – “

  “Don’t go pullin’ the age card on me, baby girl,” Grace said. She pinched Jasper’s cheek affectionately.

  “But, Grace, don’t you think there’s something to that old saying, ‘The customer’s always right?’”

  “You’ve spent too much time in church, honey. The auction draws a tough crowd. You gotta hold your own with this bunch or they’ll eat you alive.”

  “I’m tough,” Jasper said.

  Kelly snorted. She was busy magic-marking numbers on a stack of fresh bidder cards. “Tough as chicken skin,” she mumbled.

  “I heard that.” Jasper lifted her chin.

  “You were supposed to!” Kelly said. “You think I say these things to amuse myself?”

  “Well, what the heck – what the hell do I say to that?” Jasper held her hands palms up.

  Kelly snorted again and Grace gave Jasper a light elbow to the ribs.

  Kelly said, “You can’t pull that off, lady. You shouldn’t even try.”

  Jasper couldn’t think of a single smart-alecky retort.


  Grace reached an arm around her shoulders. “She’s right, honey. Just be yourself. You’ll do just fine.”

  A man on the other side of the counter cleared his throat. “Can’t anybody get waited on around here?” he asked. There was no smile in his voice.

  “Who’s not getting waited on?” Grace said.

  Another bidder had come up to the counter and Jasper turned to help. “Number 67,” the large mahogany-skinned man said.

  “Oh, you’re a regular,” Jasper said. She found his number on the list of permanent bidders, faithful auction-goers who got to claim the same number as their own by dint of visiting the auction week after week, some of them for many years. “Mr. Johnson.” Jasper marked a line across the plastic sheet cover through his name and number. Grace would register him in the computer program later so he was on record as a bidder that evening.

  “Call me Ernie,” the big man said.

  “Jasper.”

  “Got a joke for you, Jasper. Why did the Auctioneer cross the block? To sell something of course!”

  “That’s just ….. kind of groan-worthy. I don’t know what to say, Ernie.”

  Ernie held a big grin on his face. “Just say it’s bad. Big Bad Ernie. I got my reputation to keep up.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know you, Mr. Big Bad Ernie Johnson.”

  He saluted her with a two-finger wave, took his card with the big 67 written in red across the top, and headed purposefully into the main auction room to preview items that would be auctioned that night. If he found something he liked, Jasper knew he would scrawl the item description and his top bid on the back of his card so that Kelly could proxy-bid up to that amount for him.

  Grace was still on the phone, rat-a-tat-tatting her fingers against the marble that topped the counter underneath the phone and the charge card reader. It was auction day! She had plenty to do! Jasper admired her friendliness under pressure even if it was just a polite veneer half the time. “Grace clicked down the receiver. “Some people just don’t get it. What’s up, Jasper?”

  Jasper explained that she had to leave the building for a while. She had two last minute look-ats that Ted had handed off to her, and a 1:30 meeting with Ray Clippert to get a new contract signed. She didn’t tell Grace that she also wanted to secure Mr. Clippert’s permission for the house clearing Cookie had scheduled on the Austrings’ behalf for Friday evening. She loved her sister and respected her work but she didn’t like to rub her beliefs in someone else’s face. Grace was a good-natured person and, from what she’d seen so far, pretty accepting about other people’s peccadilloes but maybe ghost hunting and house clearing were beyond her ken.