Read The Case of the Angry Auctioneer (Auction House Mystery Series Book 1) for Free Online Page B

new title.” Jasper waved a hand at him over her shoulder as she trudged toward her front door.
    “Wait!” he called after her.
    “Nice to meet you,” Jasper said without turning around. She unlocked the door and went inside.
    The combined odors of cigarette and lilac lingered like indoor smog. Tiredly, Jasper climbed up and beyond the cloud and let herself in to her apartment.
    Her footsteps echoed across the bare wood floors. In the living room, she sagged on to the sleeper sofa. She sat and sat until the light faded all around her. She heard a mumble of voices from below. Something strange and yet oddly familiar. She got wearily to her feet and tiptoed to her apartment door. She cracked it open and could hear more mumbling, indiscernible voices from downstairs. It sounds like…
    Jasper retreated, closing the door behind her and locking it. She retrieved a stemmed glass from the kitchen, brought it into the front room, and turned it upside down against the bare floor. She got down on her stomach and laid her ear atop the base of the glass. The loud gibberish she thought she had heard was amplified now. It was what she had thought. Glossolalia . Speaking in tongues! “Oh, God, can’t I get away from this stuff?” Jasper asked the nobody in the room. Her cell phone Alleluiaed. It was Cookie. “Hi, Sis, I’m so glad to hear from you.” Jasper flopped back on the sofa and settled in for a comforting long chat.

Chapter 5
     
    Jasper kicked all her covers off the sleeper sofa during the first night in her new apartment. So when her cell phone chirped her awake at 6:30 a.m., she took her goosebumped arms and icy feet to the bathroom for a hot shower. No shower, only tub. She’d forgotten. She sniffed back a second of self-pity, her life felt so reduced, ran a couple inches of water into the claw foot, and took a quick sitz bath, only long enough to warm her purple toes to deep pink and give her time to soap down her vital parts. When she stepped out, she saw no towels. She wiped herself semi-dry with her nightgown and draped it on the towel rack. Her mouth tasted foul so she ran her tongue over the wet bar of soap, scooped up a handful of water from the tap, and gargled until suds leaked out her mouth. She had no idea where she had packed her toothbrush and toothpaste.
    Jasper rushed to her suitcases and boxes to find something suitable for her first day of work at Biggs Auction House. She dug through a box labeled “Church Donations” and found a pair of neutral slacks either black or navy; she couldn’t tell from the dim overhead bulb in the bare bedroom. Further down in the box full of items parishioners had sent to the manse, she discovered a plaid shirt that reminded her of a Country Western tune she liked, “For Crying Out Loud, I’ve Got You to Thank.” She sang a little bit to keep herself company. In her own things, she found a cache of clean panties. She grabbed up a balled pair of dark hose and one-inch pumps that were almost the right size and, sprinting naked back to the living room, found her bra from yesterday where she had dropped it alongside the sleeper sofa.
    A quick glance at her cell phone showed that she had unbelievably used up a half hour already. The eastern light poured in the living room windows. Even the proximity of the house next door couldn’t block the sun. A second floor curtain across the way twitched. Jasper clutched her clothes over her breasts and her flats across her crotch. A gray-haired woman smiled and waved. Jasper smiled automatically and waved back. She dropped to her knees atop her fallen clothes, and scooted along on top of them to the arched doorway between living room and the empty possibility room. There she lay on her back atop the painted wood floor and shimmied into her clothes.
    A buzzer sounded from the hallway inside her front door. Fire alarm? Jasper sprang upright in a hurry and went to check. She heard voices talking downstairs, so she turned the