Tamar Myers - Larceny and Old Lace: A Den of Antiquity Mystery

On any other day it would have knocked my socks

Mama could have her disgusting roll in the hay. Aunt 74

Bob Steubens need for company outweighed his resentment toward 82

I slept very well on that authentic Queen Anne couch. 90

What? 98

Greg Washburn was waiting for me when I got to 107

I was shocked to see Mama in pink. 115

I will confess to tippling Mamas wine, but I maintain 125

Robs bear hug left me smelling like cologne for the 135

You didnt! Peggys screaming voice does not flatter her. 143

I dont want to go away for the weekend, Mama 152

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Mama stalled. I dont mean she delayed. I mea n my 161

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So, does this mean youre going to th e mountains with 171

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Anita was waiting for me impatiently. The toe o n one 179

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Holy shit! 18

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Wait! Can I say good-bye first? 19

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It was either luck, or divine providence, bu t somehow we 206

Copyright About the Publisher

E ulonia Wiggins was found strangled to death by an antique bellpull. It was a fine example of nineteenth-century needlework. On the blue velvet background,

a splendid red rooster paraded, his comb erect, his spurs as long as talons. An elaborate crest of one of the finest noble families in England was displayed proudly above the cock. I would have charged at least $200 for the pull, more to the right customer. I suppose if my aunt had to die by strangula tion, the pull was as suitable an implement as any. But I cant help thinking that if I had reacted in a more rational and placating manner, my aunt might still be alive.

Wethe members of Selwyn Avenue Antique Dealers Associationhad gathered together for our monthly breakfast at the local Dennys restaurant. Normally this is just a social event, since our organization is too small to have any real business. Today, however, the business was my aunt.

I must immediately point out that my aunt was the first of our group to open a shop on prestigious Selwyn Avenue. If it hadnt been for her pioneering spirit, and persuasive tongue (the zoning board was slow to come around), none of us would have our shops today. Plainly put, we all owed her a great deal.

In the interest of fairness, I am compelled to say that her shop, Feathers N Treasures, had seen better days. Okay, to put it frankly, it was an eyesore, but she didnt deserve to die for it. Lightly flogged, maybe. I mean, since when is peeling paint a capital crime? As for those tacky cardboard signs in

the windows, she did change them every time she ran a sale. Ill even admit that most of her merchandise was garage sale leftovers, but hey, this is a free country. Eulonia Wiggins, age eighty-six, had paid her dues to society. If the Selwyn Avenue Antique Dealers Association had a problem with my auntwell, they could lump it, or else answer to me.

My name is Abigail Louise Timberlake, and I am going to tell it like it is. Call me mean-spirited if you want, but never call me dishonest. Life is too short for pretense.

I am forty-six years old, and not ashamed to admit it. I have earned every one of those years. I weigh ninety-three pounds on a good day but have been known to hit the triple digits by the time New Years Day rolls around. My hair is naturally brown, but I purposely put a gray streak in it, so as not to be mistaken for a teenager. That is the price I pay for not smoking and staying clear of the sun. My eyes are cat green, and I have never needed glasses. That is the reward I get for having picked Hugh Wiggins and Missy Monroe Wiggins as my parents. That, and my height. I mean the lack of it.

I have one sibling, a younger brother named Toy. Thats his real name. At any rate, Toy is six foot four, and not ad opted. Either Mama wasnt the saint I think she is, the laws of Mendel are a bunch of bunk, or Toy is some sort of genetic throwback. I prefer to believe in choice C.

Toy lives in California and thinks of himself as an unemployed actor. In reality Toy is a busboy for a sleazy restaurant where leather ties are required. Although Mama and I write to Toy every month, neither of us have heard from him directly in several years. He has no phone.

I got married right after graduating from Winthrop College in Rock Hill, South Carolina. I met my husband, Buford Timberlake, on the water slide at an area amusement park. It was a mixed marriage. Buford was from North Carolina and a big fan of North Carolina State. I rooted for Clemson. Buford had louder lungs and we ended up setting in Charlotte.

Buford and I were lucky enough to have two children, a daughter, Susan, and a son, Charlie. I was lucky enough to be able to stay home and raise these children. I wont say I was deliriously happy, but neither did I look for a gas oven into