here.”
“What?”
“There’s this situation,” he repeated. “Rooney’s wife is having a yard sale.”
“A what?”
“A yard sale, and there’s like a hundred people here,” he exaggerated. “They’re going in and out of the house, too. The wife is getting rid of everything.”
“You sit there and wait,” Merriam ordered. “I need to talk to Charlie and Stack, then I’ll get back to you.”
Milo decided he’d better not put the phone down, fearing he’d lose it again, so he put it on the dashboard and sat back to wait.
Rooney’s BMW screeched to a stop in the driveway. He hadn’t even gotten out of the car before he started screaming.
“Put that down. What are you doing?” he roared. “Put that back. You there … get away from that.” He ripped a stack of clothes out of a woman’s arms and shoved her. “You get out of here, right this minute.”
Milo felt as though he was watching a slapstick movie. Rooney’s behavior was hilarious.
His face was bloodred, and he hurled through the crowd knocking people aside as he bellowed for his wife.
“Here we go,” Milo whispered. He spotted Babs coming around the side of the house, a complacent smile on her face. She was apparently used to her husband’s rants and raves.
“What have you done?” Rooney shouted. He tripped over a stack of books. “Oh my God.
You didn’t touch anything in my study, did you? You did, you did. Do you realize what you’ve done? Is everything gone? Everything in there gone?” Babs’s expression didn’t waver. “Every article from your precious library is out here …
what’s left of it.”
He shook his head in disbelief and ran inside. Babs stayed in the yard. Continuing to smile, she turned to the crowd warily watching her and called out, “Everything’s still free.
Go ahead and take whatever you want, but you’d better hurry. My husband has a foul temper, and it’s going to get ugly.”
She seemed utterly unfazed by the possibility.
Milo watched from his car and decided that, despite her creepy face-lifts and inflated lips, Babs was fairly classy. Classy dresser anyway. She had on a knockout, rhinestone-embellished, lime green velour jogging suit with matching high heels. He could see her red-painted toes peeking through the openings.
Milo wasn’t sure how long he should wait. Mr. Merriam had told him not to do anything until he heard from him, but people were heading to their cars now. Once they were gone, one or both of the Rooneys would surely notice he was still there.
The Rooneys made the decision for him. Milo got so caught up in their argument, he couldn’t leave.
Babs shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and appeared to be bracing herself for the confrontation when her husband flew out the front door, shrieking like a wounded hyena.
“You stupid bitch. What were you thinking? Don’t you know what you’ve done? You’ve thrown away a gold mine. A gold mine worth millions of dollars.” His gaze darted around the yard. He locked in on a pile of miscellaneous items and raced across the yard. “Maybe it’s still here … maybe it’s not too late.” He dropped to the ground and began to search frantically. “Maybe it’s buried on the bottom.” Throwing notebooks and ashtrays and picture frames in the air, he pleaded, “Please, please, God, don’t let it be gone. Don’t let it be gone.”
“That’s rich. You praying to God. You hypocrite,” Babs said scornfully.
Ignoring his wife, he continued the search until he was convinced what he was looking for wasn’t to be found. Still on his knees, he turned to her. “Why? Why did you do this to me? He’s going to come after me. He won’t just kill me. He’ll go after you, too. That’s right. He can’t take the chance I didn’t tell you about it. Why?” he repeated on a sob. “Why did you—”
“You wouldn’t take me to New York.”
His mouth dropped open. “New York?” he shouted. “You did all this
“What?”
“There’s this situation,” he repeated. “Rooney’s wife is having a yard sale.”
“A what?”
“A yard sale, and there’s like a hundred people here,” he exaggerated. “They’re going in and out of the house, too. The wife is getting rid of everything.”
“You sit there and wait,” Merriam ordered. “I need to talk to Charlie and Stack, then I’ll get back to you.”
Milo decided he’d better not put the phone down, fearing he’d lose it again, so he put it on the dashboard and sat back to wait.
Rooney’s BMW screeched to a stop in the driveway. He hadn’t even gotten out of the car before he started screaming.
“Put that down. What are you doing?” he roared. “Put that back. You there … get away from that.” He ripped a stack of clothes out of a woman’s arms and shoved her. “You get out of here, right this minute.”
Milo felt as though he was watching a slapstick movie. Rooney’s behavior was hilarious.
His face was bloodred, and he hurled through the crowd knocking people aside as he bellowed for his wife.
“Here we go,” Milo whispered. He spotted Babs coming around the side of the house, a complacent smile on her face. She was apparently used to her husband’s rants and raves.
“What have you done?” Rooney shouted. He tripped over a stack of books. “Oh my God.
You didn’t touch anything in my study, did you? You did, you did. Do you realize what you’ve done? Is everything gone? Everything in there gone?” Babs’s expression didn’t waver. “Every article from your precious library is out here …
what’s left of it.”
He shook his head in disbelief and ran inside. Babs stayed in the yard. Continuing to smile, she turned to the crowd warily watching her and called out, “Everything’s still free.
Go ahead and take whatever you want, but you’d better hurry. My husband has a foul temper, and it’s going to get ugly.”
She seemed utterly unfazed by the possibility.
Milo watched from his car and decided that, despite her creepy face-lifts and inflated lips, Babs was fairly classy. Classy dresser anyway. She had on a knockout, rhinestone-embellished, lime green velour jogging suit with matching high heels. He could see her red-painted toes peeking through the openings.
Milo wasn’t sure how long he should wait. Mr. Merriam had told him not to do anything until he heard from him, but people were heading to their cars now. Once they were gone, one or both of the Rooneys would surely notice he was still there.
The Rooneys made the decision for him. Milo got so caught up in their argument, he couldn’t leave.
Babs shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and appeared to be bracing herself for the confrontation when her husband flew out the front door, shrieking like a wounded hyena.
“You stupid bitch. What were you thinking? Don’t you know what you’ve done? You’ve thrown away a gold mine. A gold mine worth millions of dollars.” His gaze darted around the yard. He locked in on a pile of miscellaneous items and raced across the yard. “Maybe it’s still here … maybe it’s not too late.” He dropped to the ground and began to search frantically. “Maybe it’s buried on the bottom.” Throwing notebooks and ashtrays and picture frames in the air, he pleaded, “Please, please, God, don’t let it be gone. Don’t let it be gone.”
“That’s rich. You praying to God. You hypocrite,” Babs said scornfully.
Ignoring his wife, he continued the search until he was convinced what he was looking for wasn’t to be found. Still on his knees, he turned to her. “Why? Why did you do this to me? He’s going to come after me. He won’t just kill me. He’ll go after you, too. That’s right. He can’t take the chance I didn’t tell you about it. Why?” he repeated on a sob. “Why did you—”
“You wouldn’t take me to New York.”
His mouth dropped open. “New York?” he shouted. “You did all this
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