Shadows at the Spring Show (28 page)

BOOK: Shadows at the Spring Show
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Eric had to be exhausted. He’d been running since before Maggie had arrived. And how could he have slept much with all that was happening at his house? But he must have kept George happy, since George appeared to have left. Hal was helping Abdullah bring in a large Pennsylvania Dutch pie safe.

At least after tonight the only lifting and carrying would be if any customer bought a large item that had to be taken to a van or car or truck. Often purchases like that were picked up on Sunday, after the show was over. A dealer was lucky if he had to worry about the number of red and black sold stickers he had in inventory. (One show Maggie did supplied sold signs for the dealers to use that said, “Sold! Watch this space for another wonderful item to appear!”) Optimistically, most dealers carried
one or two extra pieces of furniture or special framed items in their vans or trucks in case a major sale emptied their booth.

Maggie crossed her fingers that this would be that kind of a show. Although the first show in any location could not expect spectacular sales. It sometimes took years for dealers and collectors and decorators and other regular customers to learn that a particular show was worth attending. That’s why dealers were cautious about committing their time and money to a new show. Many of these dealers had agreed to come because they knew Maggie, or because they lived close by and it would be an easy show to do. Or because they strongly supported adoption. It was amazing how many people Maggie called who had some connection with adoption. Dealers shared that they had been adopted, or a brother or sister or cousin had been. Or their best friend had relinquished a child for adoption. Or their son had adopted three children.

Will’s booth looked good, Maggie noted. He’d brought the iron devil andirons he’d told her about months before. When there was a fire, red and yellow flames would shine through the devils’ grins. Very nice. Gussie and Ben had finished their side of the booth and placed a Booth Closed sign on the chairs they’d used to block the entrance.

Where had they gone?

Maggie found them quickly. Ben was helping Violet bring in cartons of crystal.

Maggie said a small prayer they didn’t drop anything.

And Gussie had replaced Josie at the front desk, where the action had slowed down considerably.

“I told the nice pregnant woman who was here—Josie?”

Maggie nodded. “Josie Thomas. She and her husband adopted two really cute eight-year-olds last year. Twins.”

“Well, the way she looks, she could be having another set pretty soon. Anyway, I told her she could go on home. She did fine, and all but eight of the dealers are here now.” Gussie glanced at her list. “Two are still waiting for porters, but I expect
they’ll have most of their things unpacked before any of the porters are available.”

Maggie nodded. “No show ever has enough porters.”

“That’s one of the things we dealers always say. ‘If
we
ran the show, there’d be a lot more porters.’”

“Right. Well, now I know why that’s hard to do. All the dealers need porters at the same time. The porters work like crazy for an hour or two. And then it’s over. No one needs them until pack-out on Sunday.”

Gussie handed Maggie the list of dealers who hadn’t arrived. “Will anyone on this list want porters? I hate to tell the kids to stick around if no one needs them.”

Maggie looked. “Two or three of these dealers are local; they may be planning to set up tomorrow morning. One is the guy with the estate jewelry. I know he won’t leave anything here overnight. He’ll arrive at eight tomorrow morning, cover his tables, bring in his display cases, attach a few Tensor lamps to his tables, and be in business in an hour. The porters can leave when they’re finished helping the dealers they’re with now.”

She realized it was dinnertime. “Want me to get you some pizza? I saw them unpacking boxes in the café a few minutes ago.”

“Yes, please. Two pieces of pepperoni,” said Gussie.

In the café dealers and porters were taking full advantage of the stacks of boxed pizzas that had just been delivered. Another five minutes and the pizza would be gone. Maggie filled one plate for herself and one for Gussie and returned to the lobby.

“I’ll admit I’m wearing down,” said Gussie. “If all stays quiet, I think I’ll finish my pizza and head for home. Ben can come with me or go home with you and Will later. I know you have to stay until the bitter end.”

“Either the bitter end or ten o’clock. Whichever comes first,” agreed Maggie. “But there’s no reason you have to stay. You’ve been an enormous help today. I really appreciate your being here.”

“Glad to be of service. And glad I didn’t get to see the kind of fireworks you saw last night.”

Maggie grimaced. “The show opens tomorrow morning. Let’s just hope no more fireworks. Not even a sparkler.”

But that reminded her. She needed to talk with Al.

He was eating his pizza in a quiet corner of the conference room. “I just needed a bit of peace,” he admitted, when Maggie found him. “What’s up?”

“After yesterday, nothing, I hope,” said Maggie. “But have you seen what a mess the gyms are now? That’s just part of setting a show up, I know. But do you know the guys on the county police force well enough for them to do you a favor?”

“That depends, Maggie. I’d say right now they have so much on their plates they couldn’t do something extra even if they wanted to.”

“But what if it might keep people from being in danger?”

“That’s different. What do you have in mind?”

“Does Somerset County have any bomb-sniffing dogs?”

Chapter 37

My Little White Kittens Playing Dominoes.
One of the “My Little White Kittens” series lithographed by Currier & Ives. The kittens are famously demonic-appearing, with pointed ears and eyes. In this lithograph two kittens are knocking over a carefully aligned wall of dominoes. In period frame. Print has several small holes in margins, and one tiny one in a kitten’s paw. Margins intact, except for holes. Small folio: 11 x 14 inches. $170.

Maggie and Will got to the gym before eight Saturday morning, leaving Ben and Gussie at home to get a little more rest. The sun was already hot, and the dampness of the past couple of days promised humidity would be rising with the sun. Several dealers were already parked outside, waiting for the doors to be unlocked so they could finish setting up their booths.

Usually Maggie wore a long skirt to antiques shows, but today, not knowing what she might have to do, she’d put on a pair of navy linen slacks and a dressy overblouse and added one of her brass
M
pins for luck. At least pants meant she could avoid stockings. She wiggled her toes in her comfortable open, navy blue sandals. Will was wearing pressed jeans, with a blue
dress shirt, open at the chest. That color blue always reflected the color of his eyes. A devastating combination.

They’d brought Al some doughnuts and coffee, assuming, correctly, that Ann’s café staff wouldn’t be there at eight on the dot.

“How’re you coping with sleeping here?” Maggie asked.

“I must admit, I’ll be glad to get back to my own bed and off that cot,” said Al. “I must have heard a dozen noises last night that weren’t there. Everything went so well yesterday I kept waiting for a disaster to strike.”

Hal, Eric, and Abdullah came in together. “Good morning, guys!” said Maggie. “You didn’t all need to be here this early.”

“But Eric did, so I thought I’d offer him a ride,” said Abdullah. “And Hal figured he’d come, too. Their families are pretty busy now.”

Hal’s family was dead; Abdullah must have meant Carole’s family. Strange—with all the excitement, Maggie hadn’t even realized that Carole had never stopped in to see how the setup was going. And, of course, Eric’s family was still dealing with Jackson’s death.

“Are you okay with spending this much time here?” Maggie asked Eric. “Things must be pretty intense at home. Has a date been set for Jackson’s funeral? And how is your mother doing?”

“The funeral will be Monday. Mom’s still in a lot of pain, and she can’t climb stairs, so Dad’s set up a bed for her in the living room. She’s using a rented wheelchair. With all the confusion and telephone calls and people dropping in to say they’re sorry, or just to check up and see how we’re all doing, I’d just as soon be here. I’m doing something productive, and I don’t have to think as much.”

“I understand. And you’ve been a big help. I’m going to write to George and point that out after this show is over.”

Eric looked down, but his eyes shone. “That would be great.”

As if to answer the other question on Maggie’s mind, Carole Drummond was the next to appear.

“Good morning! Everyone set for the show? Hal, there you are! I saw your note that you had a ride this morning. Could you unload the cartons I have for the display and handouts in the agency booth?”

“I’ll help, too,” said Eric, and Abdullah nodded and followed him. Maggie wondered what she would have done during the past couple of days without the three of them. They’d been essential parts of the team. And they seemed to be getting along well.

She suspected they each could use a new friend. Maybe they’d found one. Or two.

“Hal’s been a great help, Carole,” said Maggie. “Thanks for suggesting he volunteer.”

“I’m glad. And I’m so sorry about your van. Let’s hope that was the last unfortunate event. After all, three is a charm!” Carole peeked inside the gyms. “The sign outside looks terrific, and everything looks amazingly organized.” Several dealers were still bringing in merchandise; others were arranging items already in their booths. “I just have to make two more calls, and then I’ll set up the agency booth.” Carole headed for the OWOC booth, cell phone in hand.

Coffee was beginning to perk; Ann must be here. Coolers full of baked goodies were beginning to appear in back of the café service tables.

“Carole, here’s your name tag!” called Maggie, fishing it out of the box of unclaimed name tags on the front table and following Carole into the gym. “All the dealers are accounted for, and everything is set up except for the café, which Ann and her committee are working on, and your booth.”

As Carole pinned on her name tag Hal passed them, carrying some large blowups of OWOC families.

“Those are for the walls of the booth,” explained Carole. “We’ll put handouts and pictures of waiting children on the table in front of the booth.”

“Josie and her husband are taking turns at the admissions
table,” Maggie continued. “They’re putting the raffle items for the table over there.” She pointed at a spot just inside the door of the gym.

“What’s the other table for?” asked Carole, indicating a second one nearby.

“Handouts. Many dealers bring postcards and other promotional information for the next shows they’ll be doing, and a couple of regional antiques newspapers have donated copies to be given away, in hopes of getting new subscribers. Plus some sponsors, like motels and restaurants, and local antiques shops and malls, have given us maps or copies of menus that customers can pick up and take with them.”

Carole nodded. “You’ve done a great job, Maggie.”

“With a lot of help,” Maggie acknowledged.

Carole moved a little closer and spoke softly. “No more phone calls or letters?”

“Not to me. Has the agency gotten any?”

“No, thank goodness.”

Two uniformed policemen nodded as they walked by.

“I see we have some local support.”

“Yes. They were here early, before the dealers arrived. Patrols are watching the parking lot a little closer than they’d planned after the problems Thursday, and Al has four of his security people specifically watching the doors. Right now they’re all open, because dealers are still unloading. But fifteen minutes before the show opens, we’ll lock all the outside doors except the main one near the admissions desk. After that the security guys will just walk around, keeping an eye on everything.”

“Are they wearing uniforms?”

“Al told them they’d have to. We’re trying to intimidate anyone who might try to make trouble. And the police are also in uniform, except for the detectives. I don’t know if they’ll be here or not. They have a lot to work on now.”

“Yes.” Carole watched Eric walk past her with another load of cartons from her car. “Yesterday one of those detectives called
again. This time they were asking about Hal.” She looked at Maggie. “Have there been any problems with him?”

“Not one. He’s been an enormous help. The police were just checking on everyone who was in the gym when my van burst into flames.”

“Did they find anything?”

“They did say Hal had some history with fires.” Maggie said it quietly.

Carole nodded. “True. But that’s history. He wouldn’t have done this, Maggie. He’s had a hard life, and he’s pulling it together. He’s taking his meds, and he’s doing fine.”

“I understand. But they were asking about everyone. Even me, and it was my van that was murdered.”

Carole smiled at Maggie’s choice of words. “Then I won’t worry. And I guess I’d better get to work in my booth. I wouldn’t want the agency booth to be the only one unfinished when you open the doors at ten.”

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