Death of a Garage Sale Newbie Read Online Free PDF Page A

bright circles of light exploded across her lids. She took in slow, deep breaths, tried to ignore the pulsing of her brain, the sensation of a hatchet wedging between her eyes. Maybe Earl was right. There was no reason why someone would want to run her down. They certainly weren’t rich. The Pontiac wasn’t worth stealing. It was just some kid taking a prank too far.
    She pressed the pillow harder against her face. She didn’t have anything anyone would want.
    Earl stepped out of the shop to catch a breath of fresh air and to think about what a neat thing total honesty was. He and Ginger were going to get close in the empty-nest years, just like he had prayed for. A few stars twinkled in the summer night sky.
    Movement by Ginger’s car caused him to turn slightly.
    Earl took several steps to the center of the yard. With only one outdoor light, he couldn’t see much. Had that been a shadow by Ginger’s trunk? His skin prickled from some internal warning system.
    “Who’s out there?” Ginger’s gray cat appeared on top of the car, and Earl let out the breath he had been holding. “Phoebe, what are you doing on Mama’s car?”
    He walked the short distance to the Pontiac. The cat padded to the edge of the car roof, and Earl gathered the bulky critter into his arms. She must weigh twenty pounds. The animal was some kind of genetic mutant. Phoebe was nearly two years old, and she just kept getting bigger.
    He’d gotten Phoebe for Ginger when their youngest, Heidi, had left for the military. He had hoped the cat would soften the blow of dealing with an empty nest. Ginger spoiled the critter, feeding her from the table and taking her for rides in the car.
    The animal yowled and wrestled free of his hold, plopping on the ground beside him and rubbing against his leg. A branch cracked in the forest beside their property. He spun around to look at the trees.
    “Who’s out there?” His heart pounded.
    He surveyed the dark evergreens for signs of movement or more noise. Seconds ticked by. Still watching the trees, he rested his hand on the trunk. Nothing out there. This thing with Ginger just had him spooked. He shook his head and chuckled but couldn’t unload that feeling of being watched.
    As he turned to go back to the shop, he noticed scratches around the keyhole of the trunk. He traced several marks with his fingers. Even if she had forgotten her key, Ginger wouldn’t do this kind of damage to her car.
    He pulled his bulky key ring out of his pocket, filed through the keys, and shoved one in the slot. Earl popped the trunk lid and peered inside. Just a bunch of garage sale junk—treasures, Ginger would say—and a spilled basket. He pulled the basket out. Maybe she’d gotten the Mickey Mouse pole for one of their grandkids. He needed to go inside for a cup a coffee anyway; might as well take the stuff in for his wife.
    Phoebe stood on her back paws and dug her claws into Earl’s jeans, preparing to use his leg as a scratching post.
    “Git, Phoebes.” He stepped forward, but she hung on. He kicked his leg out to the side and shook it until she gave up. “Like wrestling with a cougar.” He was not looking forward to the day when Phoebe, instead of leaving a mouse or bird on the doorstep, would be dropping off livestock as a gift.
    Lots of new things cluttered the trunk as well: towels with the tags on them, boxes of tea in plastic wrap, those stinky pink soaps women liked, candles and seed packets. Some old stuff too that she must have picked up garage saling: a vest, a photo album, and a box with shells on it. Not the usual stuff Ginger would buy. She usually tried to find almost new things at her sales.
    He tossed a piece of pink-checked fabric into the basket and piled the rest of the stuff into the box, including the Mickey Mouse fishing pole. Ginger had to have been driving pretty wildly to spill all those things. He shut the trunk and checked to make sure it had locked. Later he’d put the car in the