Read Online Larceny and Old Lace by Tamar Myers - Free Book Online Page B

Triple A?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThink back. It was a sixty-three Dodge Dart. White. With push-button controls.”
    This time when my mouth fell open an ice cube fell out. “That was you? How can you remember that far back? I mean, about a car not starting?”
    The liver spots danced. “Or how about the time, after Susan was born, when I came over and fixed up a swing seat in that willow oak out back.” He sighed. “Actually that one had to come down just this summer, thanks to Hurricane Hugo.”
    â€œMy God!”
    â€œYeah, a real shame. Hugo came through six years ago, and still some trees are dying because of it.”
    â€œNo, I mean, I can’t believe how good your memory is. I wish mine were that good. I remember that one of my aunt’s neighbors tied up the swing seat, but I didn’t remember that it was you. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
    â€œNah. Think nothing of it. My point was, you knew me, you just forgot. Things like that happen.”
    I took his word for it. I also decided to take advantage of his formidable memory while I had a chance. Before I forgot who he was again.
    â€œSay, Tony, you ever hear my aunt mention something valuable that she planned to auction off through Sotheby’s?”
    â€œWhat kind of thing?” For someone so old, there was a lot of fire in his eyes.
    I decided to hold my cards close to my chest. That’s far easier for me to do than it is for Tweetie.
    â€œOh, I don’t know. Something very unusual, I guess.”
    â€œAh, that.”
    â€œAh, what?”
    He studied me quietly for a moment, the fire in his eyesdimming. Or perhaps he fell asleep. People his age have been known to do that.
    â€œEuey was always talking about something she’d run across as being a rare find. A ‘one-of-a-kind’ she called them. Euey had more ‘one-of-a-kinds’ than a barn full of drunken poker players.”
    â€œBut I heard this was something really special. Something she wanted to auction off at Sotheby’s.”
    He gave me a pitying look. “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, especially a dear friend, but look around you. Take a walk through the house. Do you think you’ll find anything really valuable here? Or at her shop? Your aunt lived very modestly, you know.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œWho told you about this valuable item? Did she?”
    â€œWho else?”
    â€œShe describe it for you?”
    â€œOf course.” I’m sure my priest will disagree, but sometimes there is virtue in not telling the truth. “Not telling the truth,” as opposed to “lying.” There is a difference, you know. One is passive, the other active. One is intended solely to protect yourself or someone else you love. The other is for personal gain.
    â€œWell? You going to tell me about this mysterious thing that’s worth a fortune?”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI promised Aunt Eulonia I wouldn’t.”
    He stared. There was something not quite right about those bright eyes. Perhaps gramps was overmedicated. I’d read that sometimes blood pressure medicine could produce the same effect.
    â€œYes, but she’s dead,” he said in that youthful voice.
    â€œExactly! I couldn’t possibly break my word to a dead woman.” I stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go look for something nice to have her buried in. A favorite of hers.”
    He stood up as well. “Mind if I tag along?”
    I took a deep breath. “Frankly, I do.”
    â€œOh.”
    I walked out of the breakfast room, fully expecting him to tag along behind me like a puppy dog, but he didn’t. I did need to find something to bury my aunt in, but that could wait. I wanted to see for myself if there was something valuable—something lace-hidden in one of her drawers, or draped over