Secondhand Stiff Read Free Page B

with a sunny yellow sweater, both clean and without blemish. With our handbags, comfortable walking shoes, and discreet and tasteful jewelry, the three of us looked like we had gotten lost on our way to a ladies’ lunch or a day of shopping at an upscale mall and had stopped to ask for directions in the wrong part of town. Out-of-town tourists, ripe for a scam, might have blended in better. If the crowd hadn’t been so entertained by Ina and her angry little friend, we would have garnered a lot of unwanted curiosity. Ina, in her basic uniform of jeans and snug long-sleeved tee, didn’t look like she knew us, let alone was with us.
    â€œOkay, break it up,” ordered a bald, portly man of mixed race. He lumbered out of the office of Elite Storage with authority and purpose and approached the crowd. With him was a young woman holding a clipboard. At first blush she could have been taken for an adolescent boy, but it was a woman, slight and wiry, with short-cropped hair and glasses that gave her a Harry Potterish appearance.
    â€œIna. Linda,” the man said, addressing the combatants. “You know I don’t tolerate scuffles at my auctions.”
    â€œAw, come on, Red,” said one of bystanders, “let ’em go at it. A good cat fight might bring in more business.” Everyone in the crowd laughed but us.
    The man named Red scowled at the crowd and began his pitch. “I’m Redmond Stokes, the auctioneer,” he announced without further ado. He jerked a thumb at his androgynous assistant. “This is Kim Pawlak. When the auction is over, you’ll be paying her.” Red gave us a rundown of the rules. We could not go into any of the storage units up for sale and only had minutes to view it from the opening before the bidding began. Sales were final and cash only.
    â€œJust like on TV,” gushed my mother. She was tittering like a excited bird seeing its first worm.
    â€œThe first unit up today is number fourteen,” continued Red after a glance at Kim’s clipboard. “A 5 x 10.” He turned and started walking through the open gate and down the main road through the compound.
    I glanced at Renee, but she seemed more interested in what was going on with Ina. The crowd started after Red like a slow-moving herd, going around the two angry women like a patch of nasty cactus in its way. Ina broke away from her fight and rejoined us to follow the crowd to the first auction, but not before launching one last verbal attack: “Stay away from me or you’ll regret you were ever born.”
    Linda took two aggressive steps forward and gestured like Rocky Balboa urging on his opponent. “Bring it on, you skinny, stupid bitch.”
    With fire in her eyes and clenched fists, Ina studied her adversary, then turned away. I sighed with relief, knowing she was capable of pulverizing the other woman.
    â€œWho is that?” Renee asked, indicating the blond.
    â€œHer name is Linda McIntyre, Aunt Renee,” Ina replied through tight lips. “She’s the ho sleeping with my husband.” She got in step behind the crowd, not looking back to see if we were following.
    I don’t think my mother heard Ina because she was moving with the crowd on Red’s heels, anxious not to miss a moment of the auction activity. Renee and I were rooted to the concrete, staring at the woman named Linda. As she passed by us, she gifted us with a snarl.
    â€œDid you know Tom and Ina were having problems?” I asked Renee.
    She slowly shook her head. “She did say at Thanksgiving that they’d had a fight, but I didn’t know it was this serious.”
    â€œDid you see the bruises on her arms that day?”
    â€œNo, but Ron told me about them after you all left. He said Ina claimed they were from an accident at the store, but we’re quite concerned.”
    I took my mother-in-law’s arm and guided her after the group. “Maybe when this is