“And was it?”
“I still don’t know for sure,” he said. “I went into the barn to talk to him privately, but it was a waste of time. He was noncommittal. I suspect if he had the papers, he was probably putting out feelers to find out where he could get top dollar for them.”
“Didn’t that make you mad?” I asked.
“Irritated, perhaps,” he said. “But, of course, I knew he’d have to come back to me eventually.”
“When he figured out there was nowhere else he could sell them,” I said, nodding. “Not if he wanted to get top dollar for them,” I added, hastily, seeing the offended look on his face. “I mean, he should have known that no one could possibly match your dedication and commitment to Mrs. Pruitt’s legacy.”
“Yes,” Schmidt said. “We did some verbal sparring—he refused to admit he had any papers, and at the same time, kept asking me to estimate what they’d be worth if he did have them. As if I could put a value on something I’d never seen. I lost patience and left. Not a very good atmosphere for a negotiation anyway. He was clearly itching to get back to the yard sale. I thought I’d talk to him later.”
“Too bad,” I said. “Guess you’ll have quite a wait now.”
“Why?” he asked, frowning.
“The police won’t release anything of Gordon’s until they’ve solved his murder, will they?” I said. “It could be weeks, even months. To say nothing of the delay until the estate goes through probate and you can start dealing with whoever inherits.”
Schmidt smiled.
“Mrs. Pruitt has been dead nearly a century,” he said, in a lofty tone. “I think I can wait a few more months to find out about these papers. If there are any papers to begin with. That’s just the sort of rumor Gordon would have loved starting.”
“And the murderer’s done you a favor, too, hasn’t he?” I said.
Schmidt looked startled again.
“Favor?” he said.
“Hard to think of anyone who wouldn’t be easier to deal with than Gordon, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Quite,” he said, with a dry chuckle. “Now, about my car …”
I took down the SUV’s license plate—as it happened it was neither black nor blue, but a dark green Ford Expedition—and returned to make a few announcements to the crowd. I offered Schmidt a glass of lemonade, on the house, while he waited, but he declined. He seemed relieved to see me walk away.
He was anxious about something. Or hiding something. I’d made him visibly nervous a couple of times, but he’d recovered, which probably meant I wasn’t asking the right questions. I made a mental note to see what Michael knew about him. Could there be some juicy departmental scandal involving Arnold Schmidt that would crack the whole case wide open?
Chapter 18
I borrowed the police bullhorn and strolled around announcing the SUV’s license plate number and politely asking the owner to move it. At first, I didn’t mind the excuse to wander around and see what everyone was up to. But about halfway through my second circumnavigation of the fence, my stomach growled, and I realized I was starving. My mellow attitude abruptly changed to annoyance at the inconsiderate SUV owner. So I reworded my announcement. Instead of “Will you please return to your vehicle and move it so others can leave,” I began saying. “This is your last chance to move your vehicle before the tow truck arrives.” Almost immediately, a stout, red-faced man sprinted toward the road. I deduced that I had accomplished my mission, so I headed for the grills to pick up a burger for lunch—although it was getting closer to dinner time, so I made it two burgers.
“Meg?”
I turned, still chewing my first mouthful of burger, to find Cousin Sidney standing before me with a reproachful look on his face.
“You called another towing service? When you knew I was here?”
Fortunately, with my mouth full, I couldn’t easily utter my first response—that even if I had the slightest idea which of Mother’s hundreds of relatives were here, I wouldn’t necessarily have remembered that one of them currently ran a towing service. By the time I finished chewing and swallowing, tact had returned.
“There you are!” I exclaimed. “No, I didn’t call another towing service, because I knew you were around here someplace, and I figured I’d run into you before too long. There’s such a crowd here that people who want to leave are starting to get blocked in by the new arrivals.”
“I can take care of that,” Sidney said, beaming.