“You just ate half the plate,” Ruth said.
“For them,” Ida said. “You bring pastries when you visit someone. It’s called being a good guest.”
“We’re not guests,” Ruth said. “We’re going to a yard sale.”
Outside, Brooke Ridge Falls was going about its afternoon, the yard sale winding down, the crowds thinning, the town settling back into itself.
Somewhere out there was a porcelain cat on an ornate bronze base, and a person who had decided it was worth killing for.
“Let’s go,” Nans said.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Mercer yard sale was still going strong at noon. The tables were picked over but far from empty. A steady stream of browsers were working their way down the driveway with the focused energy of people who knew the good stuff was still out there if you looked hard enough.
Ida stopped at the first table they passed.
“Oh.” She picked up a ceramic rooster the size of a small child. “Look at this.”
“Put it down,” Ruth said.
“It’s magnificent.”
“It’s enormous.”
“That’s what makes it magnificent.” Ida turned it around. The rooster stared back at her with an expression of profound self-satisfaction. “Where would you even put something like this?”
“Nowhere,” Ruth said. “That’s the correct answer.”
Ida set it down with visible reluctance and moved to the next table, where she immediately picked up a set of salt shakers shaped like outhouses. “Oh, these are fun.”
“Ida,” Nans said, without breaking stride toward the front of the sale.
Ida put the outhouses down and trotted after them, though she looked back twice.
June was in the middle of haggling with a woman over a bread maker when they arrived, and she drove a harder bargain than anyone expected for something she’d been trying to get rid of since nine a.m.
“Seven-fifty,” June said.
“Five.”
“Seven.”
“Five-fifty.”
“Done.” June took the money, handed over the bread maker, and turned to find Nans and the ladies. Her face broke into a genuine smile. “Well, this is a nice surprise, I haven’t seen you ladies in a long time.”
“June.” Nans stepped forward warmly. “We heard about Everett and the cat. Terrible business. We just wanted to check in.” A small pause. “Did anyone else show any interest in the cat this morning? Anyone asking about it before Everett got to it?”
“You think he was killed because of the cat he bought here?” June looked perplexed.
“It was missing from his bag,” Ida said.
“Oh dear.” June’s hand went to her throat. “It sat on that table all morning without a second glance. Everett was the only one who picked it up. It came out of the attic. There is so much old stuff collecting dust up there from when my great-grandparents lived here. I had no idea it was worth anything. I feel terrible it ended up connected to all this.”
“Anyone else act strange or ask about it?” Ruth asked.
June shook her head. "No. Well — my cousin Darlene was acting a little odd. But that's not unusual for her."