Murder for Bid by Susan Furlong Bolliger Page A

Matlock.
    Schmidt stood frozen in silence, his eyes glistening with … what? Fear? Hate?
    “You have no idea what you’re talking about…” We both turned at the sound of car doors slamming, flowed heavy footsteps accompanied by the glips of police radios. Through the shrubbery came a familiar face.
    “ Pippi O’Brien?”
    Great. The responding officer would have to be someone I knew. “Hi there, Gabe.”
    Officer Gabe Sanchez was one of Sean’s friends. The last time I had seen him was at his house last summer for a barbeque.
    Sanchez stood, looking from Schmidt to me, waiting for an explanation. Schmidt spoke first, “This woman is crazy! I came home to find her in my backyard, trying to break into my shed.”
    “I wasn’t trying to break into...”
    “She’s making all sort of slanderous remarks. I want something done here and now!”
    Officer Sanchez, realizing that he was in a no-win situation, stammered for words and then stopped and let his mouth hang open. Luckily for him, at that moment the sound of rustling shrubbery revealed two more uniformed officers and, to my dismay, Sean.
    He crossed the yard to where we stood. “Pippi?” His eyes were dark.
    I searched the ground for something to say. I could feel his embarrassment.
    “This is the homeless woman that I was telling you about. I caught her trying to break into my shed. She’s a nut. You should hear the things she’s saying. She even says she knows you.” Schmidt was in Sean’s face. “What are you going to do about this, Panelli?”
    Sean led me aside. “What were you thinking, Pippi?” he whispered.
    “I wasn’t trying to break in, I swear, Sean. I was just looking in the window.”
    He shook his head incredulously and shoved his hands into the pockets of his creased khakis. “Just looking in his window? This is private property. He could press charges.”
    “Press charges against me? He’s the murderer!”
    “Shh!”
    My eyes slid across the yard to where the insolent councilman stood yacking it up with the fellows from the force and lowered my voice. “I already told you about the golf club. I think he stashed it away in this shed after killing Amanda with it. All you have to do is look. I bet you’ll find a bloody driver.”
    “Do you know what you’re saying? He’s a city councilman. You can’t go around making those types of accusations without proof.”
    “Well, how would I get any proof, if no one believes me? Isn’t it obvious? Look, the door is padlocked.”
    “So?”
    “He’s obviously hiding something in there. You need to get a warrant right away, before he can move it.”
    Sean opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Schmidt who had snuck up on us. “Look, Panelli,” he said. “I’m not sure why you’re not making an arrest. I think this woman broke into my house to steal my wife’s jewelry and Amanda caught her in the act. I mean, she’s obviously desperate, she was digging through garbage cans for food.”
    Sean glared at his officers who were huddled together, snickering amongst themselves. “Actually, Councilman, I can assure you that this woman did not kill your wife. Ms. O’Brien is a personal friend of mine. She digs through garbage for a living.”
    Another round of snickers eschewed from the huddled group.
    “She digs through garbage for a living?” Schmidt asked, giving me a distasteful up and down look.
    “Yes, that is when she’s not butting into police business,” Sean replied through tight lips.
    Under the gaze of so many watchful eyes, Schmidt turned back into politician mode. He patted Sean on the back. “Well, Panelli, I can’t say I understand your taste in women,” he said, giving me another once over, “but just because she’s your girlfriend, it doesn’t give her the right to be snooping around on my property and making all these slanderous remarks about my relationship with Amanda.”
    “You’re right, sir. I apologize for Ms. O’Brien.”
    What?