owner, Mrs. Post, died before she could sell the bookshop to you directly, Olivia,” Mr. Alden said. “I know she enjoyed the idea of the Old Treasures Bookshop becoming the Mystery Bookstore.”
“It’s very difficult to think I might not get the shop,” Miss Chase said in a sad voice.
Violet tried to help Miss Chase feel better. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you follow the bidding so you don’t miss out. Grandfather taught us how to watch people’s faces when they’re bidding.”
Miss Chase patted Violet’s hand. “I hope no one watches my face too closely, or they’ll know how much I want it. I’ve dreamed of opening a mystery bookshop in New Orleans ever since I decided to take a break from writing.”
“Has anyone noticed that man?” Henry asked suddenly. “He’s been right behind us all this time.”
Miss Chase turned to see who Henry was talking about. She saw a middle-aged man with jet black hair quickly move away when he saw that the Aldens were staring at him. Miss Chase fanned herself with the auction booklet. “Oh dear, I’m so nervous, I didn’t even notice that Rexford Phillips was right behind us. And me, a mystery writer, too! I should be listening and watching other bidders, not the other way around.”
“Is that the fellow you told me was always bothering Mabel Post?” James Alden asked his old friend.
“He’s the one,” Miss Chase whispered. “Rex pestered poor Mrs. Post for months about selling the shop to him. He wanted to open a stamp shop here. We both went to the estate lawyers about buying the shop after Mabel’s death. That’s when they decided to hold an auction. He already bought Mrs. Post’s stamp albums. Now I guess he’ll be bidding against me for the shop, too.”
“What if I sit next to him in case he writes down his bid?” Benny asked after Mr. Phillips left. “I could cough or wriggle my nose or do something to let you know what he wrote down.”
“You rascal!” Jessie said, patting Benny on the back. “I guess I’ve been reading you too many of Miss Chase’s mysteries.”
Everyone stopped talking when they heard a bell. The second part of the auction was about to start.
“This is your chance, Olivia,” Mr. Alden said. “Now go sit in the front with my grandchildren, and I’ll keep an eye on everything from back here. Good luck.”
Miss Chase and the Alden children seated themselves in the middle row, not too close and not too far from the front.
The auctioneer began with a little talk about the Old Treasures Bookshop. “. . . And included with the shop are all its books as well. The estate lawyers just made a last-minute decision to sell Mrs. Post’s books with the building rather than auction them off separately. Sorry about the change in plans, folks.”
This news upset Miss Chase and several others in the audience. “Oh, no,” she said to the Aldens. “I wasn’t planning on buying the books, too. I won’t be able to afford them and the shop. Not to mention all the work that will involve. Oh dear.”
The auction man went on. “Those of you who knew Mrs. Post know that she hid a lot of treasures in her store. This is a very fine New Orleans property smack in the middle of our historic French Quarter. And who knows what all these books might be worth? We’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars. That’s rock bottom.”
Now it was Miss Chase who could hardly sit still. Her foot was tapping, and she kept her hands folded on her lap to keep from calling out a bid too early.
“Sixty thousand dollars,” someone bid.
The audience gasped. A ten-thousand-dollar jump!
“I have sixty thousand, do I hear sixty-five thousand?” the auctioneer said.
“Sixty-five thousand,” a voice called out.
Henry turned his head ever so slightly in the direction of this voice.
“It’s that Mr. Phillips,” Henry whispered to Miss Chase. “He just entered the bidding.”
“Maybe it’s time for me to bid something, too, but the
“It’s very difficult to think I might not get the shop,” Miss Chase said in a sad voice.
Violet tried to help Miss Chase feel better. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you follow the bidding so you don’t miss out. Grandfather taught us how to watch people’s faces when they’re bidding.”
Miss Chase patted Violet’s hand. “I hope no one watches my face too closely, or they’ll know how much I want it. I’ve dreamed of opening a mystery bookshop in New Orleans ever since I decided to take a break from writing.”
“Has anyone noticed that man?” Henry asked suddenly. “He’s been right behind us all this time.”
Miss Chase turned to see who Henry was talking about. She saw a middle-aged man with jet black hair quickly move away when he saw that the Aldens were staring at him. Miss Chase fanned herself with the auction booklet. “Oh dear, I’m so nervous, I didn’t even notice that Rexford Phillips was right behind us. And me, a mystery writer, too! I should be listening and watching other bidders, not the other way around.”
“Is that the fellow you told me was always bothering Mabel Post?” James Alden asked his old friend.
“He’s the one,” Miss Chase whispered. “Rex pestered poor Mrs. Post for months about selling the shop to him. He wanted to open a stamp shop here. We both went to the estate lawyers about buying the shop after Mabel’s death. That’s when they decided to hold an auction. He already bought Mrs. Post’s stamp albums. Now I guess he’ll be bidding against me for the shop, too.”
“What if I sit next to him in case he writes down his bid?” Benny asked after Mr. Phillips left. “I could cough or wriggle my nose or do something to let you know what he wrote down.”
“You rascal!” Jessie said, patting Benny on the back. “I guess I’ve been reading you too many of Miss Chase’s mysteries.”
Everyone stopped talking when they heard a bell. The second part of the auction was about to start.
“This is your chance, Olivia,” Mr. Alden said. “Now go sit in the front with my grandchildren, and I’ll keep an eye on everything from back here. Good luck.”
Miss Chase and the Alden children seated themselves in the middle row, not too close and not too far from the front.
The auctioneer began with a little talk about the Old Treasures Bookshop. “. . . And included with the shop are all its books as well. The estate lawyers just made a last-minute decision to sell Mrs. Post’s books with the building rather than auction them off separately. Sorry about the change in plans, folks.”
This news upset Miss Chase and several others in the audience. “Oh, no,” she said to the Aldens. “I wasn’t planning on buying the books, too. I won’t be able to afford them and the shop. Not to mention all the work that will involve. Oh dear.”
The auction man went on. “Those of you who knew Mrs. Post know that she hid a lot of treasures in her store. This is a very fine New Orleans property smack in the middle of our historic French Quarter. And who knows what all these books might be worth? We’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars. That’s rock bottom.”
Now it was Miss Chase who could hardly sit still. Her foot was tapping, and she kept her hands folded on her lap to keep from calling out a bid too early.
“Sixty thousand dollars,” someone bid.
The audience gasped. A ten-thousand-dollar jump!
“I have sixty thousand, do I hear sixty-five thousand?” the auctioneer said.
“Sixty-five thousand,” a voice called out.
Henry turned his head ever so slightly in the direction of this voice.
“It’s that Mr. Phillips,” Henry whispered to Miss Chase. “He just entered the bidding.”
“Maybe it’s time for me to bid something, too, but the
Similar Books
