Mysteries of Holt House - A Mystery (2 page)

“I’m actually looking forward to this.”
Sharon sounded surprised. “I guess this won’t be like your yard sales.”

“Hardly,” I replied. 

Chapter Two

We pulled into the long driveway and had
no trouble finding a parking place. It didn’t look like there was much of a
turnout. We walked toward the house and I saw a few people had come just to see
the house. They didn’t appear interested in the auction, but were circling the
place like vultures, trying to look through the windows. The heavy drapes were
closed which seemed to frustrate them.

We ambled over to the displays and began
looking around. A man who’d been examining a table turned, and seeing me,
looked startled. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder toward the
porch, then looked at me again and walked away shaking his head. I didn’t think
much about it until another man did the same thing.

“You’re sure getting a lot of attention
today,” Sharon said. “There’s a woman over by the porch staring at you, too.”

“I noticed. Did I forget to comb my hair
or something?”

“Yeah, you should have worn a wig today. I
wonder what it’s all about. I’m going to find out.” Her sarcasm changed to
interest and she headed toward the woman who couldn’t take her eyes off me.

I followed behind her.

“Why is everyone staring at my friend?”
she asked the woman.

“Go look on the porch.” The woman walked
away.

We hurried to the porch, not knowing what
to expect. There were small household items and several paintings displayed.

“Look Mommy, it’s her,” a little girl
said. “I thought you said the lady was dead.”

“Hush, Heather. Don’t be rude.” The mother
tried to lead the child away.

“But, Mommy, look at the picture.” The
child sounded insistent and pointed toward the porch.

“I said to hush!” the mother said, pulling
on the child’s arm and leading her away.

Sharon and I took a step forward and
stopped in surprise when we saw what the child had been pointing at. Sharon
sucked in her breath. There was a portrait of me on the porch. It wasn’t really
me, but it could have been a twin sister, except I didn’t have any sisters –
and it looked like an
old
painting.

Sharon’s mouth dropped open. “Who
is
that?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure going to
find out.” I looked around for the auctioneer and saw him talking to a young
couple. Sharon trailed behind me when I rushed over to question him.

“Excuse me,” I said, tapping him on the
shoulder. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but – ”

“Just a moment,” he said, turning to see
who was jabbing his shoulder. His look of surprise was comical.

“Oh.”

“Who is she?” I asked, after giving him a
moment to pull himself together.

Without answering, he motioned me to
follow him and led me back to the portrait.

“Huh! This is uncanny. Do you know who
this is?” he asked.

“
That’s
what I’m trying to find
out.”

“That’s a portrait of Mrs. Holt. Are you
related? We didn’t think there were any living relatives. Well, that just tears
it! No auction today.”

“Hold it! I’m
not
a relative. It’s
a coincidence – a strange one, but a coincidence all the same.”

“Yeah, right,” he said in disbelief. “Are
you sure you’re not related? There must be
some
connection between the
two of you.”

“I’m positive. Believe me, if we were
related, I’d know about it.”

“Could have fooled me,” he said. “Well, at
least we’ll still be conducting an auction today.”

“Yes, I know how important the auction
is.” I understood priorities, but he was annoyingly priority-oriented.

He crossed the porch and started back down
the steps, spun around to look at me once more, then stumbled the rest of the
way down the steps.

“Serves him right,” Sharon whispered.

“I know,” I whispered. “What a bizarre
twist. All of a sudden this house has my full attention.”

“Gosh, I wonder why.” Sharon grinned. “I
think we ought to see if they’ll let us look through the house after the
auction.”

“Can’t hurt to ask. I could tell him I was
only joking, and I am actually related. Maybe that’ll get us an invitation into
the house.”

“Uh huh. Like
that
would work.
Well, come on, let’s go look around and see what’s being auctioned off.”

“I intend to bid on that painting,” I
said, walking across the porch and down the steps.

“Somehow I’m not surprised. If nothing
else, it would certainly make an interesting conversation piece.”

“True.”

We roamed around looking everything over.
Sharon was more interested in knick knacks and glassware, and I gravitated
toward the furniture. There was a wild and crazy idea germinating in my little
pea brain.

“Sharon, I want
all
of the
furniture,” I said.

She looked at me in surprise and her mouth
dropped open.

“Close your mouth,” I said.

“You can’t be serious! Where would you put
all that furniture? Good grief! Look at all of this stuff. I mean, you live in
a tiny little apartment. You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about buying my
own home, and I’d need more than what I’ve got in the apartment. I can afford
that now, you know.”

“Don’t brag about your money.” Sharon bit
her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You know I was only
joking, right?”

“Of course. I know how you feel about
things. No one could have been happier for me when I won the money.”

We continued walking and browsing, and my
mind was working double-time. The more I thought about it, the less wild and
crazy my idea felt.

“I get it,” Sharon said suddenly. “But you
don’t even know if this house is for sale.”

“You’re quick, I’ll give you that. And,
yes, I do. I talked to the auctioneer while you were looking at the glassware
on the porch. It goes up for auction next week.”

“I think you’ve lost your mind. This place
is
huge
.”

“I’ll explain what I have in mind later.
Right now let’s find seats before the auction begins.”

We sat down and only waited a few minutes
before the auctioneer called for attention. First he auctioned off the smaller
items. Sharon bought a collection of miniature tea cups and saucers, a couple
of figurines and a set of bone china, mentioning that she didn’t really need
the china but liked the pattern.

“I didn’t realize auctioneers really talk
that fast,” I whispered. “I thought that was a joke. I’m not sure if I can keep
up with things. I may need your help me when the painting comes up.”

“Sure.” Sharon pulled her wallet out of
her purse, checking to see how much cash she’d brought with her.

I glanced around and noticed again that
there hadn’t been a very good turnout for the auction. I wouldn’t have much
competition when the bidding on the furniture began. My attention was brought
back when I heard the auctioneer describing the painting of Mrs. Holt. He kept
glancing at me.

“I want that painting,” I whispered.

“I know, I know.”

“We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars.
Do I hear fifty dollars?” The auctioneer kept his eyes on me.

I raised my hand.

“Fifty dollars, fifty dollars. Do I hear
seventy-five?”

Someone in the back raised their hand.

“Seventy-five, seventy-five, seventy-five.
Do I hear one hundred?”

I raised my hand again. I was surprised to
find that I could actually understand the man.

“I have one hundred dollars. Let’s hear
one hundred fifty. One-fifty, one-fifty, do I hear one-fifty?”

The person in the back raised their hand
again. Sharon twisted around and looked over her shoulder to see who was
bidding against me.

“It’s the lady with the little girl,” she
whispered.

“Okay,” the auctioneer said. “It’s one
hundred fifty dollars. Do I hear two hundred? Two hundred, two hundred, two
hundred.” His attitude and face told me he hadn’t expected to get much for the
painting. I raised my hand with determination.

“I’ve got two hundred dollars. How about
two-fifty? Do I hear two hundred fifty?” It had become quiet, and he was
speaking slower now. “How about two-fifty? Do I hear two hundred fifty
dollars?”

“Aw, come on.” A man in the back spoke
loudly. “Let her have it.”

I waited, but the woman didn’t raise her
hand.

“Sold! To the lady in the painting.” The
auctioneer smiled.

I felt my face turn warm and knew I was
blushing. There were a few laughs and snickers in the audience.

There were more paintings auctioned off. I
bought a few of them, and then the furniture came up. The competitiveness of the
auction caused a type of excitement I’d never felt before. I could understand
how people might get carried away and buy things they didn’t really need or
want. I had the feeling that bidding at an auction could be addictive.

I turned to Sharon. “This is great. A
person could really get hooked on this auction thing.”

“It is kind of fun, isn’t it.” Sharon
threw her hand in the air and waved it, bidding on a lamp.

I bought most of the furniture. There were
a few disgruntled people in the crowd, a few of them antique dealers, but I
didn’t care. I knew what I wanted to do and I was happy. I collected my
paintings and approached the auctioneer to see if Sharon and I could talk him
into giving us a tour of the house.

“My friend and I wondered if we could
explore the house while we’re out here,” I said, when I got his attention.

“Not today, young lady.” At thirty-two, it
was kind of nice to hear him call me a young lady.

“Well, when can we see it?” I persisted.

“It’ll be shown by appointment next week
from what I understand. Now back to business. When do you want to pick up the
furniture?”

“Would it be possible to store it inside
the house for the time being?” I asked.

He looked thoughtful. “Well, I suppose so.
Maybe the house will show better with the furniture in it.”

“Thanks. I’ll be in touch with you about
it next week.”

I grabbed Sharon’s arm and dragged her off
before he could change his mind.

“I just don’t understand what you’re
doing,” Sharon said.

“I’m not totally sure myself, but I’ll
tell you what I’m thinking, and don’t try to talk me out of it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe.”

“I won a lot of money, but it’s not going
to last forever, so I’ve got to make it work for me.”

I paused, trying to put my thoughts in
order.

“Now I know that the most common advice I
get is to invest in real estate or mutual funds. I don’t know anything about
mutual funds, so turn around and look at that house. It has a lot of bedrooms,
and it’s also got a lot of character and history. On a small scale, I could
turn it into a boarding house. A lot of people work in the larger cities around
here, but they still want to live in the country. They wouldn’t have to commute
as far since this house is so close to the five points of the Cross Roads.

“On a larger scale,” I continued, “I could
turn it into a sort of resort or vacation spot, maybe a Bed & Breakfast
type thing – a place to get away from it all. And it’s not that far from skiing
in the winter and lakes in the summer – which, of course, leads to the reason I
wanted the furniture. I’d need a lot of furniture to fill this place, and the
pieces I bought will fit the style of the house.”

I was on a roll.

“On top of all that, the house appears to
be in good condition. I probably wouldn’t have to put out a lot of money for
repairs. When I talked to the auctioneer, he said that someone has been keeping
the repairs done on the house for quite some time. No one knows who’s been
doing the work though, or why.”

“I told you this place was spooky,” Sharon
said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Did I mention I felt like I was being
watched while I was looking at things on the front porch? I’m sure I saw the
drapes move.”

“Hush. That was your imagination working
overtime. Anyway, the house is being auctioned off for back taxes. It’s been
vacant for years. Apparently, somehow it slipped through the cracks or it would
have been sold a long time ago.”

“It sounds like a lot to take on,” Sharon
said, “especially for someone with very little business experience. That’s not
an insult, just a fact. Are you sure you really want to do this? I’d think it
over long and hard if I were you.”

“I will, but I have to tell you I’ve got a
good feeling about it. Somehow it feels like the right thing to do.”