Vivi, having apparently found no treasure worth purchasing, rose from the clutter of boxes. She stood glancing around her, jingling her car keys and jangling those bangle bracelets she always wore, then she moved on again, looking, slipping among stacks of broken toys and used clothing. Dulcie watched her lift a folded bedspread to see what was underneath, then rifle through a stack of suitcases, shifting the dusty valises and opening them. She was very focused, as if she were looking for something special. As she pried and prodded, never stopping to admire any item, her face was frozen with distaste-maybe she couldn't bear dirt or the smell of old things; but her black eyes darted everywhere, looking. And across the yard, Gabrielle had stopped collecting sale items, and stood very still, watching Vivi.
Strange that Gabrielle hadn't greeted Vivi, that the two women hadn't acknowledged the other. But Gabrielle was like that, she wouldn't press their brief acquaintance. Despite her look of smooth sophistication, Gabrielle was shy and reserved-she had met the Traynors during a trip she'd made last fall to New York, one of those senior tours. She had gone to school with Elliott's sister, and had called them, then stopped by their apartment to extend her condolences for the sister's death, a year earlier.
Gabrielle stood frowning uneasily toward Vivi, as if puzzled or, Dulcie thought, almost uncomfortable because Vivi was there. But when Vivi glanced up, Gabrielle turned quickly away.
And here came Richard Casselrod, getting out of his Mercedes SUV Casselrod always seemed a bit seedy, his tweed sport coat worn and wrinkled, his black hair mussed. His pockmarked complexion made him look like a street bum-yet he did keep an elegant shop, two floors of lovely antique furniture and accessories. Wilma had bought several nice pieces from him, including her cherry desk where Dulcie liked to sit in the sunshine, looking out the front window. Strange, in Casselrod's sour face, how his black eyes were always smiling-as if he loved everyone he met.
He showed up at all the yard sales and estate sales. The ladies of the Senior Survival club said he was always buying, and that they'd see him in the consignment shops, too, and the charity stores when they were looking for things Susan could sell on eBay. They said Casselrod had no compunction about elbowing a person out of the way to snatch up some nice bargain before you could get at it.
No compunction either about selling the stuff he bought in his fancy antiques store, Gabrielle said. She said he would buy stuff from his neighbors and from the charity shops, put it in his show window, and double the price for the tourists. The locals held out for better prices; they knew how to bargain with him. And now, Susan said, he was selling his purchases on the Web as well.
But the Senior Survival ladies were selling in the same way- only theirs was for a better cause. And after all, if that was the way Richard Casselrod wanted to make his living, it was no one's business. No one had to patronize his store. All three senior ladies watched him as he moved along the tables examining each item, collecting a few nice things that, very likely, they wished they had grabbed up first.
But Casselrod's attention was half on Vivi Traynor, giving her quick, sliding glances, making Dulcie wonder if Vivi was the kind that appealed to Richard Casselrod. She didn't see how could Vivi be attractive to any man, with that grating giggle, and the way she was always sucking on a cherry, her mouth all pursed up.
I am being mean, Dulcie thought, smiling. Charlie said Vivi kept a container of cherries in the freezer, so she could suck on them like little round Popsicles. Even as Dulcie watched, Vivi spit out the pits and dropped a handful of cherry stems on the grass.
Casselrod had turned away, moving toward Cora Lee, who knelt sorting through a tangle of toys and small appliances. As she reached for something underneath, Casselrod moved closer.
Cora Lee was still a moment, then stood up holding a white-painted box, a small chest the size of a toaster. The wooden cask was lumpy looking, and the paint was streaked like thick whitewash. The front seemed to be carved with some kind of crude design. Examining it, touching the lid, she glanced up, startled, when she sensed someone watching her.
She stood looking at Casselrod, then turned away quickly, carrying the box, heading for the driveway, where Mr. McLeary sat at a card table, taking in the sale money and making change. She was paying for the chest when Casselrod moved past her up the drive and turned, blocking her way.
Cora Lee accepted her change and started to hurry past him, then everything happened at once, so fast that later, trying to recall the moment, even the cats weren't sure what they had seen.
As Cora Lee started past Casselrod, he shouldered her aside, jerking the box from her hands. Then he swung around, and the box hit her in the shoulder so she stumbled and nearly fell. Casselrod backed away cradling the box, muttering a quick "Sorry." He shoved a bill at Cora Lee as if to pay for what he'd taken, then spun away toward his SUV.
Cora Lee stood looking after him, the bill blowing on the grass at her feet. But Vivi Traynor took off following him, running, swiveling through the crowd and sliding into her black Lincoln, burning rubber as she headed out, on the tail of Casselrod's Mercedes. Joe and Dulcie watched, rigid with interest.
A dozen people crowded around Cora Lee, helping her and looking away after Casselrod, all talking at once. Mavity hurried to her, but Gabrielle didn't move. Her hand was lifted, as if she'd wanted to snatch Casselrod back, but she was very still.
"What was that about?" Joe said, digging his claws into the rough bark. "All over some piece of junk?"
"Apparently Casselrod didn't think so. Nor Cora Lee," Dulcie said. "Does he plan to put that ugly old box in his shop and call it an antique? Make up a history about it the way he does some old kitchen chair and sell it for a bundle?"
Joe looked intently at Dulcie. "Casselrod might boost the price, but he knows his antiques. And why was Vivi Traynor so interested?"
Dulcie flicked her tail. "I don't-" But suddenly, below, something moved in a jumble of broken toys and faded baskets, a dark shape pressing the baskets aside. A mottled black-and-brown shadow coming to life, her dark, plumed tail flipping free, her long fur tangled with leaves. Her round yellow eyes were wide and earnest, gazing up at them.
"Well, Kit," Dulcie whispered. "Come on up here."
"Get up here, Kit," Joe Grey snapped. "Get your tail up here. What are you into, with that innocent look?"
Like an explosion the kit swarmed up the oak's thick trunk and onto Dulcie's branch to nuzzle at her, purring.
"Where have you been?" Dulcie said suspiciously.
"Nowhere," said the kit, her expression secretive.
"You smell of paint. You've been in the theater again."
The kit smiled. Joe and Dulcie exchanged a look, but what could they say? The theater was huge and dark and mysterious- all the things that drew the little tattercoat. Though she was usually there with Cora Lee, and what could happen when Cora Lee was nearby to watch over her?
5
On the patio of the Swiss Cafe, only one table offered any degree of privacy where it stood in the corner behind a pair of potted trees and a climbing jasmine vine. The restaurant itself defined two sides of the terrace, while a high brick wall offered shelter from the street and side street. Atop the wall concealed within the flowering vine the three cats had joined, in their own way, the ladies of the Senior Survival club. Hidden, they looked down on Mavity and Wilma, Cora Lee and Gabrielle. The ladies had just ordered, and had ordered for Susan, as well. Wilma sat with her back to the wall, cozy in a red sweatshirt, a red scarf tying back her long white hair. She looked up as Susan arrived, with Lamb walking quietly at heel. Susan sat down unsteadily, next to Mavity. Her hands didn't want to be still. She fiddled with her menu and stroked Lamb, who settled under the table leaning his head against her knee. She had called Wilma from her car, as she headed for the restaurant after her long session with Detectives Davis and Garza.