tempting.”
I nodded. “Good point. Of course, whoever it is was also taking a gamble that no one would outbid Jimmy. But at a Saturday night auction in Sheepville, who would have that kind of ready money? Only a specific collector who would be willing to cough up the big bucks.”
Sarah shuddered as she stared at the decrepit farmhouse. “I’d be freaked out about living here on my own with a killer on the loose.”
“Well, I guess there’s no reason for whoever did it to stick around now.”
As we shepherded the children back into the kitchen, and I was encouraging them to wash their hands and faces at the sink, Reenie came hurtling down the wooden stairs, carrying a suitcase.
“I found this in the spare bedroom. That
bastard!
”
I glanced at Sarah, and she quickly hurried the kids outside again.
“That son of a bitch was all packed and ready to leave his wife and family for some cash and a dozen old pens?” She paced through the kitchen, heaving for breath. “When I think about what I had to put up with, Daisy. The drinking every night, spending what little money we had at the bar, and now he does this to me? How
dare
he leave me in such a mess?”
She suddenly dropped the suitcase with a crash on the floor and hung her head, her wet hair covering her face.
I had no words, so I went over and hugged her. She clung to me like a child, crying noisily, her tears soaking through my shirt.
*
“A fter we left Reenie’s, I made a stop to see Betty, but the house was locked up tight with no lights on. She must have gone to visit her brother.
Sarah leaned back against the car’s headrest. “Can we go home now,
please?
Why are you taking care of all these people anyway, Mom?”
“It’s what I do, Sarah.”
“Yes, but it’s not your problem.”
“I promised Angus I’d do whatever I could to help.”
Silence reigned in the car as we drove the few miles back to Millbury. When we walked into the house, Joe wasn’t around, so we went out to the garden to find him tinkering with his latest find from Cyril’s salvage yard—a rusty Schwinn Orange Krate Stingray bicycle.
A young dog bounded up to us from around the corner of the shed.
“Hey, Buddy.” Sarah ruffled the dog’s ears as he jumped up and planted his huge paws against her chest.
“Do you know this dog? Is he yours?” I asked faintly, surveying the exuberant yellow Lab or retriever-type mix.
“He showed up on the set one day. He didn’t have a collar and no one came to claim him, so I kept him.”
I exhaled slowly. Her condo in the city, which Joe and I sold her for way below market value when we moved to Millbury for good, did not allow pets. Typical of Sarah and her impulsive nature—always doing things without thinking them through.
“You shouldn’t let him jump up on you like that.” When the puppy came over to me, I gently pushed him back down to the ground. I only petted him when he was sitting, his tail wagging furiously.
The pup gazed up at Joe, who had obviously accepted him right away. Joe never met a man, woman, or animal he didn’t like, and who didn’t instantly adore him in return.
He met my exasperated gaze, as if to say,
Take a deep breath, Daisy
. “Come on inside, girls, and see what I have planned for dinner.”
Sometimes over the years I’d thought that our personalities seemed better suited for the other’s job. Joe was more careful and patient than me, sterling qualities in a teacher, but as head negotiator for his electricians’ union, it seemed as though more of a fiery personality was required. Like mine. Joe said that he had always played good cop in negotiations. Seemed like I was stuck forever in the role of bad cop, at least where Sarah was concerned.
I sighed. The dog looked as though he needed a great deal of training, which my laid-back daughter would probably not provide.
As we ate our perfectly grilled filet mignon and succulent lobster tails, Sarah regaled us with tales of the city
I nodded. “Good point. Of course, whoever it is was also taking a gamble that no one would outbid Jimmy. But at a Saturday night auction in Sheepville, who would have that kind of ready money? Only a specific collector who would be willing to cough up the big bucks.”
Sarah shuddered as she stared at the decrepit farmhouse. “I’d be freaked out about living here on my own with a killer on the loose.”
“Well, I guess there’s no reason for whoever did it to stick around now.”
As we shepherded the children back into the kitchen, and I was encouraging them to wash their hands and faces at the sink, Reenie came hurtling down the wooden stairs, carrying a suitcase.
“I found this in the spare bedroom. That
bastard!
”
I glanced at Sarah, and she quickly hurried the kids outside again.
“That son of a bitch was all packed and ready to leave his wife and family for some cash and a dozen old pens?” She paced through the kitchen, heaving for breath. “When I think about what I had to put up with, Daisy. The drinking every night, spending what little money we had at the bar, and now he does this to me? How
dare
he leave me in such a mess?”
She suddenly dropped the suitcase with a crash on the floor and hung her head, her wet hair covering her face.
I had no words, so I went over and hugged her. She clung to me like a child, crying noisily, her tears soaking through my shirt.
*
“A fter we left Reenie’s, I made a stop to see Betty, but the house was locked up tight with no lights on. She must have gone to visit her brother.
Sarah leaned back against the car’s headrest. “Can we go home now,
please?
Why are you taking care of all these people anyway, Mom?”
“It’s what I do, Sarah.”
“Yes, but it’s not your problem.”
“I promised Angus I’d do whatever I could to help.”
Silence reigned in the car as we drove the few miles back to Millbury. When we walked into the house, Joe wasn’t around, so we went out to the garden to find him tinkering with his latest find from Cyril’s salvage yard—a rusty Schwinn Orange Krate Stingray bicycle.
A young dog bounded up to us from around the corner of the shed.
“Hey, Buddy.” Sarah ruffled the dog’s ears as he jumped up and planted his huge paws against her chest.
“Do you know this dog? Is he yours?” I asked faintly, surveying the exuberant yellow Lab or retriever-type mix.
“He showed up on the set one day. He didn’t have a collar and no one came to claim him, so I kept him.”
I exhaled slowly. Her condo in the city, which Joe and I sold her for way below market value when we moved to Millbury for good, did not allow pets. Typical of Sarah and her impulsive nature—always doing things without thinking them through.
“You shouldn’t let him jump up on you like that.” When the puppy came over to me, I gently pushed him back down to the ground. I only petted him when he was sitting, his tail wagging furiously.
The pup gazed up at Joe, who had obviously accepted him right away. Joe never met a man, woman, or animal he didn’t like, and who didn’t instantly adore him in return.
He met my exasperated gaze, as if to say,
Take a deep breath, Daisy
. “Come on inside, girls, and see what I have planned for dinner.”
Sometimes over the years I’d thought that our personalities seemed better suited for the other’s job. Joe was more careful and patient than me, sterling qualities in a teacher, but as head negotiator for his electricians’ union, it seemed as though more of a fiery personality was required. Like mine. Joe said that he had always played good cop in negotiations. Seemed like I was stuck forever in the role of bad cop, at least where Sarah was concerned.
I sighed. The dog looked as though he needed a great deal of training, which my laid-back daughter would probably not provide.
As we ate our perfectly grilled filet mignon and succulent lobster tails, Sarah regaled us with tales of the city
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