Death by Auction Page 7

  Valerie looked as if she wanted to ask another question but seemed to think better of it. She sat quietly while Abby and Zoe started sorting through the pile of checks and credit card payments. After a few seconds, she reached for the bag of cash that had been collected by the people selling chances on the goody baskets. “I can count this for you if it would help.”

  “That would be great.”

  While Valerie started sorting the paper bills and coins by denomination, Abby and Zoe worked on matching up payments with the winning bids. They’d been working for maybe fifteen minutes when the lawn mower roared to life right outside the dining room window. Just that quickly, Valerie was up and moving. “Tripp must be back.”

  In her hurry to leave, she bumped the table hard enough to knock over two of the piles of coins she’d been working on.

  Abby did her best to ignore the situation, concentrating on the check she’d been about to record. That would’ve been easier if her vision hadn’t suddenly blurred for some reason. She blinked furiously, trying to refocus both her eyes and her mind. There was no way she wanted to know what was going on outside, although it was impossible to miss noticing the sudden silence as the lawn mower shut off within seconds of Valerie leaving.

  Zoe, on the other hand, set down her pen and walked over to look out the window. Then she glanced back at Abby. “They’re headed back toward Tripp’s place.”

  Of course they were. It was his home, after all. Where else would he entertain a guest? Not that he’d ever invited Abby inside in all the time she’d known him.

  “Zeke’s with them, by the way.”

  Great, another male smitten by the barnacle. “He hangs out with Tripp a lot.”

  Zoe rejoined her at the table. “Want to talk about it?”

  Abby shook her head. After all, what was there to say? “Thanks, but no.”

  “Okay.”

  Zoe picked up her pen as if ready to get back to work. Still, she hesitated long enough that Abby looked up to see if something was wrong. Her friend’s gaze was sympathetic, her smile a bit edgy. She held up a hand. “One more thing, and then I promise I’ll shut up. If Leif had an ex-wife who looked like that, I’d hate her, too. I don’t know what that woman’s game is, but I’m sure Tripp is smart enough to see through it.”

  For some reason, that comment brightened Abby’s mood considerably. She wasn’t sure what that said about her, but she didn’t really care. Crossing her fingers Zoe was right about that, she said, “Yeah, he is.”

  After all, he’d known all along where Valerie lived and worked. If he’d wanted the barnacle back in his life, he’d had plenty of opportunity to make that happen. With that realization, she managed a happier smile.

  “Thanks for reminding me of that, Zoe.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get this finished up. I can’t wait to see how much we took in last night. I’m betting we’re going to be able to help a lot of our veterans this year.”

  She was right. Despite everything that had happened last night, a lot of good was going to come from their efforts. For now, she’d concentrate on the job at hand and not worry about why her lawn wasn’t getting mowed.

  Chapter Six

  Zoe left right after twelve thirty, which had left Abby to her own devices all afternoon. Rather than sit around feeling sorry for herself, she’d spent much of the time in her late aunt’s quilting room up on the third floor of the house. When Sybil died unexpectedly, she’d left several projects unfinished. It had been several months after her death before Abby got up the courage to try her hand at completing one of them.

  Normally, Zeke slept at her feet while she worked, but he’d chosen to stay with Tripp and his guest. While she missed the dog’s undemanding company, she wasn’t about to call Tripp and ask him to return her pet. It wasn’t until late afternoon that the lawn mower had finally started back up again. She was rather proud of herself for continuing to sew quilt squares into long strips rather than dashing over to the window to see if Tripp was alone or if his ex was keeping him company while he worked in the yard.

  When the last of the squares were sewn together, she debated whether to start joining the strips together or call it quits for the day. Too restless to sit at the sewing machine any longer, she headed back downstairs to take care of a few other chores before setting the table for dinner. The only question was if she should set it for two or three. At about five, Zeke finally scratched at the back door. When she let him inside, he made a beeline for his food bowl, reminding her that it was his dinnertime, too.

  She filled his dish with kibble and pondered what she should do next. If Tripp had changed his mind about dinner, he would’ve let her know by now. When her land line rang, she jumped to answer. “Hey there, are we still on for pizza?”

  The silence coming from the other end of the line made her wish the old-fashioned phone had caller ID. When it was Gage who finally spoke, she did her best to hide her disappointment.

  “I really wish I was calling about pizza, Abby, but this is an official call. I tried your cell, but it went to voice mail. I wanted you to hear the news directly from me. We got the preliminary autopsy report back, and Bryce Cadigan’s death is now officially a murder investigation. He was poisoned, but that’s all I can tell you right now.”

  She managed to reach the kitchen table and sit down on her suddenly wobbly legs. “I’m sorry to hear that, Gage. I know these cases are tough to handle.”

  Especially when it was the third one since she’d moved to Snowberry Creek. “Is there anything you need me to do now that you know?”

  He huffed a small laugh. “Other than to let us handle it?”

  She closed her eyes and bit back the urge to sigh. “Gage, that’s so not funny.”

  Even if he had good cause to feel like she might need that reminder. In her defense, it was hardly her fault that she’d been the one to discover the body in all three cases. Well, to be fair, she should only have to take partial credit for the first case. Tripp was the one who actually uncovered that victim.

  “Sorry, Abby, I shouldn’t tease you. It’s already been a long day with no end in sight. Can you hold a second?”

  She waited patiently until he came back on the line. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I’ve had reporters parked outside my door all day. Once they find out it’s a homicide case, they might start looking for fresh blood to interview about what happened. For what it’s worth, you can never go wrong with a simple ‘no comment.’ They won’t like it, but you’re strong enough to stick to your guns.”

  When someone called his name, Gage said, “Look, I’ve got to go. Like I said, call me if you have any problems.”

  “I will.”

  She sat staring at nothing until the beeping sound signaling the phone was off the hook finally jarred her out of her reverie. After hanging up the receiver, she looked for her cell phone, only to discover the battery had run down. She plugged it back into the charger and waited for it to start. There were two voice messages and a pair of texts from Tripp. She listened to the voice mail first. One was from her mother, who said she was just calling to say hi; the other from Gage telling her he needed to talk to her.

  From there, she braced herself before looking at what Tripp had to say. The first one was from earlier to let her know he and Zeke were hiking over to Main Street to get gas for the lawn mower. So that’s where they’d disappeared to. The second message was from just a few minutes ago. As soon as she read it, she was sorry she’d bothered to plug in the phone.

  Hey, Abby. We’re still on for dinner. I’m not sure, but there’s a chance Valerie may be joining us. I hope that’s okay.

  Well, no, but there was no way she could tell him that. For one thing, had anyone told Valerie that Bryce’s death was now officially being considered a homicide? If not, Abby sure didn’t want to be the one to deliver that particular news to Tripp, much less Valerie herself.

  Should she cancel pizza night? She could alw
ays make some excuse like she had a headache or that she was allergic to barnacles, but that would mean Tripp would likely end up having dinner alone with Valerie. Abby didn’t like that idea either, which left her with no choice but to say it was fine with her.

  But it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

  * * *

  The past hour had ticked by slowly. Abby had spent part of it taking a shower and blowing her hair dry. It was surprisingly hard to decide whether to wear it up in a ponytail or to leave it down around her shoulders. Finally, she left it down but pulled the sides back with a matched set of combs. After a touch of lipstick and the barest hint of eye shadow, she was good to go.

  Well, except for deciding what to wear. When she and Tripp had one of their pizza nights, they usually ended up out on the porch eating off paper plates and drinking beer out of red plastic cups. A dress would be overkill, and even nice slacks might make Tripp wonder what was going on with her. Finally, she settled on her newest pair of jeans and a blue cotton shirt over a white tank top.

  As ready as she would ever be, she went downstairs to the kitchen to wait for her guests to arrive. It was a nice day out, the perfect weather for eating on the porch. However, the threat of reporters lurking in the area meant that might not be a good idea. That left two choices—the kitchen or the dining room.

  The kitchen was fine for dinner with Tripp. After all, they’d shared a lot of meals there. Valerie, however, wasn’t that kind of casual guest. But again, Tripp would wonder what was going on in Abby’s head if she served dinner in the formal dining room. Finally, she decided they’d eat in the kitchen but on her everyday dishes instead of paper plates.

  Her decision made, she quickly set the table. The knock came just as she finished. Zeke beat her to the door. It was a huge relief to see Tripp standing there with an extra-large pizza box and no sign of the barnacle anywhere.

  “Come on in.” She looked past him. “No Valerie?”

  He stepped inside and set the pizza on the counter. “No, she decided to head back to her hotel room a while ago. I think she got tired of watching me do homework.”

  Then he gave both her and the table a puzzled look and then glanced down at his faded T-shirt and jeans with frayed hems and a hole in the knee. “You look nice. Did I miss the memo that said we were dressing up for dinner tonight?”

  Okay, so maybe she’d gone overboard by putting a vase of fresh flowers on the table along with Aunt Sybil’s linen napkins. Ignoring the flash of heat in her cheeks, she aimed for sounding nonchalant. “No, not at all. I thought it would be nice to eat off something besides our usual paper plates.”

  His mouth quirked up in just a hint of a smile. “Right. And none of this is because I said Valerie might be joining us.”

  He knew her too well. “Maybe a little of it. After all, she would be a first-time guest. I figured using real dishes might make her feel more welcome.”

  Rather than continue an awkward discussion, Abby pulled two beers and the salad she’d made at the last minute out of the fridge. “Let’s eat before the pizza gets cold.”

  They settled in at the table while Zeke parked himself between them in case someone dropped food on the floor that would require an emergency cleanup. He was good about things like that.

  She took a big bite of the pizza and moaned. It was the perfect mix of buttery mozzarella and tomato sauce topped with roasted veggies. “This tastes wonderful.”

  Tripp shook his head sadly. “I still can’t believe you don’t eat meat on pizza.”

  She eyed his half of their dinner, which was piled high with the stuff. “I’m not sure why I don’t like pepperoni or sausage on pizza. I would point out that you never have a problem eating any leftover veggie pizza you find in my refrigerator.”

  “True enough, but it still seems wrong somehow.” He pointed at the baking dish on the counter. “What did you make for dessert?”

  It was hard not to laugh. The man definitely had a sweet tooth. “Do you care? Or did you suddenly get picky about what I bake for us?”

  “Not at all.” His smile was mischievous. “I’m just trying to decide whether I want to eat a whole lot of pizza and a small serving of dessert or the other way around.”

  “It’s a blueberry buckle, a kind of coffee cake. If you don’t want to gorge yourself on it tonight, you can take some home with you. It will heat up nicely for breakfast in the morning.”

  He immediately reached for another piece of pizza. “That’s great. I never made it to the store today, and I’ll be able to avoid dry, cold cereal for another day.”

  It was obvious why he hadn’t finished his to-do list, but Abby didn’t say anything. After taking another bite of her pizza, she said, “I have a new quart of milk in the fridge you can take home with you. I have plenty in the open one to last me for another day or so.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  After they were done with the main course, they made quick work of the dishes before taking their dessert out onto the porch to enjoy the evening air. Once they were settled in the chairs, they sat in silence, content to enjoy a little peace and quiet. Her schedule for the next few days was pretty open, but after that things would pick up again as the night of the dance approached. She suspected Tripp appreciated the chance to kick back for a while. Between school and the events of the night before, he could probably use a little downtime.

  He set his empty dessert plate up on the railing out of Zeke’s reach. After a bit, he asked, “Have you heard anything from Gage about the investigation? I expected him to let Valerie know if she could book her flight back to L.A.”

  Just that quick, the coffee cake lost its flavor. Somehow blueberries and cinnamon didn’t go well with a discussion about murder. Setting her own plate aside, Abby forced herself to look directly at Tripp. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but she wouldn’t lie to him. “Yeah, Gage called. I’m sorry, but they’re definitely handling the case as a homicide.”

  His grip on his drink cup tightened enough to make the red plastic groan in protest. “Do you know the actual cause of death?”

  She shuddered as images of Bryce Cadigan’s dead eyes flashed through her mind. “Evidently he was poisoned, but Gage didn’t offer any details. He only called to give me a heads-up in case reporters came sniffing around to get a statement.”

  Tripp muttered a few pungent words under his breath that she suspected she wasn’t supposed to hear. He was normally pretty careful with his language around her, but she couldn’t blame him for being upset about the situation. Not only was Abby a chief witness in the case, but his ex-wife had to be near the top of Gage’s list of potential suspects.

  She did her best to reassure him. “Tripp, I know you’re worried about Valerie, but you know Gage won’t jump to any conclusions or settle for an easy answer. You’ve told me over and over again in the past to trust him to do his job.”

  Before he could respond, his cell phone chimed. He jerked it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen as he read a text message. His expression hadn’t been particularly happy before, but now it was definitely grim.

  He lurched up out of the chair and stalked off into the back corner of the yard to make his call. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his body language made it clear it wasn’t a happy discussion. Zeke had been dozing in the grass near the porch steps, but evidently he also picked up on Tripp’s sudden tension. He stood up and gave himself a good shake from head to toe before trotting over to lean against his friend’s leg. Tripp reached down to pet the dog’s head while he listened to what the person on the other end of the call had to say.

  Abby assumed he was talking to Valerie. It made sense she would reach out to Tripp if she’d heard from Gage, too. Whatever her reasons had been to appear out of nowhere to buy an evening with her ex-husband, she hadn’t come to Snowberry Creek prepared to get caught up in a murder investigation.

  Well, unless she had come to cause one.<
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  Not that Abby should be thinking that way if for no other reason that it would upset Tripp. She didn’t particularly care what Valerie Brunn thought of her, but Tripp’s opinion of her mattered. Still, he hadn’t seen the absolute fury in Valerie’s eyes as she’d confronted Bryce Cadigan. The lady had been packing a whole lot of anger around, all of it aimed right at the handsome emcee.

  Gage had undoubtedly questioned the woman about it, but it didn’t come as a surprise that he hadn’t shared any details with Abby. Tripp hadn’t mentioned if Valerie had told him what she’d been so upset about, and Abby hadn’t wanted to ask her when Zoe had been there with them.

  Right now, Tripp was wearing a path in the grass as he paced back and forth, still listening to whatever Valerie had to say. He ended the call and dialed another number. That call didn’t appear to go well; for sure, it didn’t last long. He stomped halfway across the yard and back again before making a third call. He was facing the wrong direction for Abby to try to read his lips, but the tension in his shoulders was all too clear even from a distance.

  Finally, he turned back in Abby’s direction, his dark eyes staring straight into hers as he jerked his head in a couple of quick nods. Who was that directed at, especially considering the person on the other end of the call couldn’t see him? If he was trying to communicate something to Abby, she had no idea what it was.

  He abruptly ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Then he tilted his head back to stare up at the sky for a few seconds before starting back toward her, his expression unreadable. Well, other than it was obvious that whatever he was dealing with wasn’t good.

  As he walked, Tripp pulled out his key ring and started flipping it back and forth on his finger. Stopping just short of the steps, he said, “I have to leave. Valerie needs me.”

  Of course she did. “What’s happened now?”

  “Those reporters you mentioned have figured out where she’s staying. They’re camped out in the lobby, so she can’t leave her room without being bombarded with questions.”