Loose Screw (Dusty Deals Mystery) Read Free

dollars.
    “Looks like Mr. Buckskin decided to join the fun,” I said.
    “He has Bill’s attention,” Rhonda commented.
    Bill stepped back and shook his head. He was out.
    The bidding shot back and forth between the couple from D.C. and the man in buckskin. By the time the price passed 30,000, even Ed looked nervous. He gripped the head of the gavel so tightly his knuckles turned white as he swung it from bidder to bidder.
    The woman had moved from stiff to downright rigid, and the tissue she’d been twisting was now little bits of paper on the floor around her. Her husband raised their bid card at 35,000, but kept his eyes on his wife. Mr. Buckskin didn’t even pause; he jumped the bid to 40,000.
    The man from D.C. put his number down and shook his head. The woman leaned forward, talking to him in hushed tones, but he just stared in Ed’s direction. With one last intense look at the couple, Ed hit the gavel down. The medicine man outfit was sold.
    Relief washed over me. I hadn’t realized it, but the tension had gotten to me too. My hands were wrapped around my chair’s seat so tightly my fingers ached as I straightened them.
    While the man in buckskin gathered up his purchases, Ed urged the crowd into a round of applause. Mr. Buckskin apparently enjoyed the attention. His walk changed to a swagger. At the payment table, he stopped and gave the crowd a bow.
    I looked in Rhonda’s direction. This was more performance than I could stomach.
    Looking way too pleased with himself, Ed twirled his gavel, and announced a 10-minute break. His daughter, Frankie, was working the payment table. She held up an arm, signaling him.
    Most of the crowd took advantage of the time to visit the food booth, go to the bathroom, or check out the items still waiting to be sold. Rhonda and I stretched our legs and watched the activity at the payment table.
    At the payment table, Ed slapped the man in buckskin on the back. Then he pointed from the check the winning bidder had just written to the set. The man in buckskin nodded, took a slip of paper from Frankie and left.
    Rhonda and I stood. I fought to balance the weight of my boxes and shot a covert look at the D.C. couple. The action seemed to have taken a toll on the woman. She was even paler than before. As I watched, she popped a pill in her mouth and washed it down with a tentative sip from a cup her husband held out.
    Rhonda interrupted my thoughts. “I thought Darrell might bid on something.”
    “I talked to him earlier. He said he wasn’t going to. I don’t think he’s into relics. He stopped by because Ed asked him too.”
    “That’s a dull way to spend a Sunday. I wanted something, and I still couldn’t stand sitting here all day.”
    “Shows how nice he is.” I was happy Darrell had made a quick exit, but it was nice of him to stop by, especially since it was obvious he had other plans.
    I jostled my boxes into a more comfortable position and glanced at the door. 
    Apparently sensing I was about to make my escape, Rhonda picked up her grinding stone set and stepped in front of me, cutting off my exit. “You want to have lunch with Silas and me tomorrow?”
    Rhonda had been dating Silas for about a month, but I’d only met him once. She had a talent for collecting unlikely men, dating everyone from a tattooed biker complete with chains and a waist-long beard to a performance artist who painted himself blue and balanced on a giant red ball like a seal.
    I had given up trying to understand her taste in men and just enjoyed getting a look at the latest candidate. Silas was a mild addition to her collection, a soft spoken econ professor with a small twist. He ranched. Normal enough in Montana, but Silas had an unusual herd.
    “Is he going to talk about his worms again?”
    On our first meeting Silas ventured extensively into the eating and breeding habits of night crawlers. Listening to their diet wasn’t too bad, but when he strayed to their reproduction preferences