Death of a Garage Sale Newbie by Sharon Dunn

clutched an autobiography of Einstein and leaned close to Ginger. “Is that librarian giving us the hairy eyeball, or what?”
    Ginger glanced up from the newspaper she had been flipping through and studied the tall rows of books. “I don’t see any librarian, and I don’t know what the hairy eyeball is.”
    The last two days had been frustrating. They’d gone to the third address on Mary Margret’s list, only to find that the people there had had a moving sale. The house was empty with a For Sale sign on the lawn. They had three items left and only one address they hadn’t visited: 112 Fremont.
    On top of everything, she and Earl seemed to be drifting even further apart. They weren’t fighting. They just weren’t talking. He was spending more and more time in his workshop. When he wasn’t working on an invention, he was reading the self-help books their son Robert gave him.
    One night after Earl had gone out to the shop, she had glanced through the stack of books. Most of them were about marriage, and one of them said that women were from another planet. She knew what that book was really about. If Earl thought their marriage was in trouble, why wasn’t he talking to her about it?
    Ginger exhaled and closed the newspaper. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything in here about the lawyer in that big house.”
    Suzanne pulled another local newspaper off the rack. “I know I saw an article about him. It was just a little bit ago. They had a photo of him standing in front of his mansion. I remember the yellow roses in the background.”
    Kindra placed her thick book on the table, stepping forward and back so she could survey several bookshelves. “I’m sure she’s been following me around the library.”
    Suzanne flipped a page of her newspaper, sucking on the insides of her cheeks like she always did when she was concentrating. “Maybe she’s just putting books away.” She pounded her fist lightly on the table and bent closer to the newspaper. “Oh darn, the Kid’s Closet had a sale on children’s clothes and I missed it.”
    “Suzanne, there are more important things than sales.” Ginger’s voice had a sharp bite to it that surprised her. More important things like your marriage falling apart, like your best friend’s murder being swept under the carpet and your not being able to do anything about it.
    Kindra and Suzanne stared at Ginger, eyes narrowed, pensive.
    “Do you have a fever?” Kindra touched Ginger’s forehead with her cool hand. “’Cause I thought you just said that their sales were nothing to get excited about.”
    “Of course, some things matter more than getting a good deal.” Suzanne reached for Ginger’s hand.
    Both of the women gazed at her, waiting, her cue to explain why she had snapped at them. She couldn’t put words to the chasm she felt growing between her and Earl. All she could think was that she was a lot like the mustard-colored coat on the clearance rack that no one would ever buy no matter how big the markdown. Just hanging there all sad and lonely.
    It wasn’t like they were fighting or anything. Even talking about it scared her. Ginger tensed, her frustration returning tenfold. “I just don’t know if all we’ve been doing is getting us any closer to figuring out who killed Mary Margret.”
    Kindra shifted her weight and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “What else can we do?”
    “I’m not Perry Mason and you’re not Miss Marple.” Ginger shoved the newspaper aside. “We don’t know what we’re doing.”
    “Nobody but us cares about what happened. We have to do this for Mary Margret,” Kindra said.
    Suzanne nodded.
    Ginger shook her head. “It just feels like we are not getting anywhere.”
    Kindra elbowed Ginger. “I am way too young to be compared to Miss Marple.”
    “Maybe a private detective would do a better job.” Ginger crossed her arms.
    “Do you know what those guys charge?” Suzanne said. “I don’t think