Antiques Liquidation by Barbara Allan

Author:Barbara Allan [Allan, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2022-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

Ding-Dong Ditch

Vivian here, taking over the narrative duties. No need to thank me – even Brandy admits this part of the tale must be told by she who experienced the … experiences.

First, however, I must defend my long-ago actions regarding Brandy’s admittedly true disclosure that once upon a time I threw out her collection of Barbie dolls. While I admit this may seem an unusual course of action for one renowned for her expertise, re: collectibles, my reasons were thus: the dolls had been moldering in a cardboard box in the attic for fifteen years; lacking their original packaging, they had been mistreated terribly by Brandy in her childhood, thus making them worthless, from fright-wig hair to occasional missing limbs; and in her teens I had repeatedly asked her to get rid of the fractured figurines. So, when she didn’t, I did. Suffice to say, every parent with an adult offspring who thinks his/her/their former home should be maintained as a storage locker for childhood memories stands with me in this demonstration of tough love (and good housekeeping).

Secondly, I must address an unrelated matter, which is the relatively current change in the (American) pronunciation of two words: ‘aunt’ and ‘tour.’

For decades, perhaps centuries, ‘aunt’ was pronounced like the bug, and ‘tour’ rhymed with ‘sewer.’ But now, people drop their chins and contort their mouths in some silly affectation, rhyming ‘aunt’ with ‘flaunt,’ and ‘tour’ with ‘tore.’ Haven’t we better things to do than re-invent the longstanding pronunciations of perfectly serviceable words? Not to mention what such mangled mispronunciations can do to a person with loose dentures. (Not that I’m not speaking from experience.)

(Note to Vivian from Olivia: While I understand and even share your frustration – we have had similar phonological permutations in the UK – I do think it best to continue with the story at hand.)

(Note to Olivia from Vivian: Splendid idea, although it’s come to my attention that you good people across the pond have been pronouncing ‘aunt’ and ‘tour’ incorrectly for some time. Not that I want to tour my UK cousins a new one! Or make a mountain out of an aunt hill. (And Brandy claims I have no sense of humor!)

And, yes, by all means, let’s get back to our story.)

My intention had been to purposefully mislead both Tony and Brandy into thinking I was hanging up my figurative deerstalker cap and Inverness cape, in an effort to clear them from my investigative path. Granted, I did feel a teensy-weensy bit guilty sidelining the dear girl, as for once she was showing some enthusiasm about a murder inquiry.

While I had no doubt that Sally had killed Dolly – and felt confident forensics would back me up – clearly Sally could not have killed Conrad Norris. The receipt pad at her store, and time-stamped credit card receipts as well, revealed in her own handwriting that she had made sales throughout the afternoon of the auctioneer’s death. This meant that Sally, after her failed bid on the arks, traveled from Serenity back to Amana, and opened up her shop.

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