Read Vultures at Twilight for Free Online Page A

returning my calls. I just pray she doesn’t bring that dog. I keep thinking about how it went after that thing. Although a part of me,’ she admitted, ‘is dying to know whose finger that was.’
    â€˜Agreed,’ I said. ‘People don’t go around losing fingers in drawers. And where’s the rest of the person? It seemed fresh, like it had just happened, or maybe that was the dog’s saliva? It’s been giving me nightmares.’
    Twenty minutes, and a good deal of speculation later, Mildred arrived. The mid-fifties blonde-headed owner of Aunt Millie’s Attic blew into the condo, with her yapping Shih Tzu, Taffy, tucked under her arm.
    I pasted a smile on my face as I jammed my hands, with all ten fingers, deep into my pockets. I watched as Mildred, with her orange and white polka dot dress swirling around her thick ankles, perused Evie’s things. All the time making derogatory comments. ‘You just can’t get much for a lot of this stuff.’ She pointed out chips and cracks; she clucked her tongue and shook her head, as if to say that if she took the estate, she’d lose money. But we could both see her ill-concealed excitement over Evie’s collection of Chinese Export.
    â€˜What do you think this is worth?’ Ada held up the whaling ship platter.
    â€˜It’s pretty . . . if you like that sort of thing. I could probably get a couple hundred for it.’
    â€˜I see,’ said Ada. ‘Let me show you something else.’ She led Mildred and the snuffling Taffy over to the Hassam painting.
    As Mildred’s skirt tangled in the potted plants, she and Taffy finally made it to the picture. They appeared to sniff its surface. Finally, she declared, ‘It’s sweet.’ Her voice had the practiced sound of someone used to delivering bad news in what they considered a gentle way. ‘But your friend probably bought it at one of those motel art sales. I hope she didn’t pay too much. I always hate to be the one to say things like that, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I couldn’t tell people the truth.’
    She was there for over an hour, and the only other time she betrayed any interest was in the kitchen.
    â€˜Now that,’ she said, practically squealing with excitement when she came upon the step-back cupboard, ‘that is darling! I’d give you a thousand right now.’
    Ada looked at me with her best bridge face. ‘I had no idea it was worth that much,’ she commented. ‘It just looks like an old beat-up cabinet. I was thinking about giving it a good fresh coat of paint.’
    â€˜No!’ shrieked Mildred, which elicited a round of yaps from Taffy.
    My heart skipped and raced uncomfortably as I had a too-real flashback of the dog with the bloody finger.
    â€˜Whatever you do,’ Mildred continued, petting Taffy while examining the surface of the cupboard, ‘don’t paint it! You’ll destroy the value. People want the original buttermilk paint.’ She ran a hand lovingly over the wide-plank construction. She examined the joinery. ‘It’s lovely.’
    â€˜Isn’t that interesting, Lil. Who would have known?’ Ada steered the dealer and her creepy white dog back to the front hall.
    Mildred sensed her quarry slipping away. ‘If you have any questions,’ she said, turning in the doorway, ‘don’t hesitate to call. You have some charming things here.’
    â€˜Well, thank you,’ said Ada. ‘Why don’t you get back to me with a quote. Obviously, I’m getting a few. So, not wanting to be crass, it will all come down to a question of money.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Mildred’s mouth twisted as if she’d just tasted something unpleasant. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, who else will be seeing the estate?’
    â€˜You mean dealers?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Mildred, nearly hissing between tangerine-painted