A Frenzied Bid For Murder

By Ellie Oberth

Henderson, Nevada resident, Venice Sinclair enjoys bargain hunting at storage locker auctions with her best friend, Tanya. Unloading the units and sifting through their contents make her feel like she’s on a treasure hunt.

Being the highest bidder, Venice Sinclair discovers personal journals in a strange locker. Curiosity prevails and she soon finds herself drawn into the dramatic tales revealed in the diaries. Getting more than she bargained for, Venice uncovers disturbing hints about a dangerous crime. Murder...

Venice’s strong sense of justice leads her to delve deeper into the former owner’s silent cries for justice. Searching for hidden meaning in the coded entries, she receives help from Tanya’s daughter—precocious, eleven-year old Grace.

Each tantalizing clue presents more questions than answers. What happened to the journal writer? Who is the dead girl discussed in the diary? Can they identity the nefarious boyfriend? And where is the body?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellie Oberth
• Release date: Dec 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463878477

Ellie Oberth

A Chicago resident, Ellie Oberth’s love of mysteries began at an early age with an introduction to the works of Agatha Christie.She’s a life-long member of Sisters-In-Crime National and also a member of the Chicagoland Chapter where she served as Secretary in 2009 and served as Treasurer from 2010-2011 and 2017-2019..These days, when she’s not busy writing, she’s travelling. Ellie pops up in the most unusual places. She’s been known to scour the beach at midnight with a flashlight, looking for a place to bury the body or tramping through the deserted woods with the same goal in mind or...For more current activities, visit her blog at www.ellieoberth.blogspot.com

Book preview

A Frenzied Bid For Murder

Ellie Oberth

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Ellie Oberth

Second Edition

First Edition published by Oak Tree Press, April 2016

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ellieoberth

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

* * * * *

Dedication

* * * * *

I dedicate this book with gratitude and love to

Dan Starr—my partner in crime

* * * * *

Acknowledgements

There are so many people to thank. It takes a village to write a book, and I’m grateful to all the villagers who helped me in one aspect or another.

For Mom, who started my love of mysteries at a young, impressionable age.

For my daughter, Jennifer, (who takes the journey with me as a writer in her own right) who read, offered suggestions and performed a wonderful, professional edit of this novel.

For my daughter, Dana, who is always in my corner.

For Steve Scarborough, who helped me with some pesky forensic details.

And to everyone at Oak Tree Press who turned this novel into a reality.

* * * * *

Cover Photo by SelfPubBookCovers.com/Skinnert

Cover Design by Ellie Oberth

* * * * *

Praise for A Frenzied Bid For Murder

…a compelling mystery with an unusual theme and compelling plot threads.

—Marilyn Meredith, author of the Rocky Bluff P.D. series

CHAPTER ONE

A collective gasp ran through the crowd when the auctioneer flung open the storage locker to reveal its contents. What could only be described as a shrine lay inside the ten-by-ten space.

Instead of the usual packed-to-the-rafters furniture, or haphazardly placed objects, this locker's items were artistically arranged. A gorgeous brocade loveseat on one side faced a semi-circular grouping of elaborately carved wooden dressers. A framed photo of a woman sat on an easel and stared out at us surrounded by unlit candles and plastic flowers set in an elegant vase.

Even the auctioneer was stunned into silence for several seconds before his glib tongue resumed its patter. Okay, folks—you know the drill. Look, don't touch. Keep the line moving.

Stepping aside, he pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket to dab his forehead. It was turning out to be a rather unusual November. Temperatures soared and the scorching Vegas sun beat down relentlessly as we studied the open locker. Obviously, the auctioneer didn’t agree that it was a dry heat.

My normally garrulous friend contemplated the scene before she commented. Wow.

I giggled like a teenager. Not a particularly attractive trait for a thirty-eight-year-old, but there it is.

Tanya shook her head. This is a first. I never let my emotions get in the way of business. All the pieces are beautiful, but I must admit I'd feel creepy bidding on this one.

Move along, move along.

Ted, one of the regulars, bumped into me. Tanya and I backed away. I sensed the wheels turning in her head as she calculated the value of the visible contents.

Donald Westmont's voice rang out. Who'll start the bidding?

Fifty dollars, Ted bellowed.

Don raced through his routine. Looking for one hunnerd. Got it, one fifty, one fifty, okay. Now two hunnerd…

Tanya entered the fray, raising her arm several times as the bids elevated. Her six hundred dollar bid won the locker. The auctioneer guided the crowd down the hall to the next unit as Tanya tugged the door down and padlocked it before following. I marched behind her at a fast clip to keep up.

There were no other surprises in the remaining units. Tanya purchased two lockers by the time the auction ended.

I'll call Ian and then we can grab lunch while we wait for him to bring the truck, Tanya said.

There's a lot of furniture to move. Is he bringing help? I asked.

Tanya smiled at me. Venice, we'll build your muscles up in no time.

When Ian Meade pulled into the Lock and Go storage facility, he jumped out of the driver's seat full of energy. As is often the case—at least in my experience—husband and wife were complete opposites. Ian was a big bear of a man, standing six feet two and weighing in at about two hundred pounds of sheer muscle. Tanya barely reached his shoulders; tiny and lean, but wiry. Ian greeted his wife with a peck on the cheek and shot me a Hey, Venice over his shoulder. I noticed he was alone. Damn. I saw heavy lifting in my future.

What'd you score today? he asked his wife.

She led him over to the second unit she’d bought and unlocked it. Full of furniture, we struggled to load it all onto the truck. Well, I struggled—Tanya and Ian were full of energy. Ian kept up a running commentary about the resale value of the items. Tanya's eyes lit up when her husband uncovered a small jewelry box that she dug into with enthusiasm.

Looks legit. Got the markings for real silver, not costume jewelry, she informed me. She contemplated the baubles with a critical eye. Should bring in a thousand dollars or so.

Cool find. Ian yanked on a stubborn bin. It fell to the floor with a thud.

I watched my best friends dive into the contents. When all was packed and loaded, they’d calculated the potential profit on this eight hundred dollar unit would be upwards of twenty-five hundred dollars. Not too shabby, huh?

I saved the best for last, Tanya told Ian as she unlocked Unit 304.

He rubbed his hands together. She yanked open the door and quickly stepped aside so her husband would be smacked with the shrine’s full effect. Ian's reaction didn't disappoint. His mouth gaped open in surprise and then he whistled softly. His words were more to the point.

What the hell is this all about?

Tanya let loose a nervous giggle. Wow, she was five years younger than me and it didn't sound any better coming from her.

The brocade loveseat is a stunning piece of furniture, Ian. And it’s in perfect condition. We can sell that for at least four hundred dollars. And the two carved dressers are of very good quality. At least two fifty apiece. That china cabinet in the corner is also in great condition. Four hundred right there. So that's thirteen hundred dollars minimum. Since I only bid six hundred on the unit, we’ve more than doubled our money with the furniture alone.

Ian smiled down at his wife. At his height, he pretty much looked down at everyone. You did great, babe.

Let's get this over with, I said. I need a good soak in the Jacuzzi when we're done here. I looked around. How are we gonna do this, guys?

Ian shrugged. Let's toss the personal items and grab the furniture. Then we're good to go.

No way, I interrupted. We can’t throw out all the shrine stuff. It’d be bad karma.

Used to dealing with my quirks, Ian just sighed. I suppose the picture frame alone has to be worth something. Let's just grab it all and figure it out back at the store.

Ian drove the truck; Tanya and I followed in her car. It only took fifteen minutes before we turned onto Eastern Avenue. We stopped in the rear of their antique store, Tanya's Treasures. Tanya and Ian processed all the items from the first storage locker, while I carefully rummaged through the pieces we’d removed from the shrine.

The heart-shaped face captured in the picture belonged to a young woman with long black hair and large blue eyes, but it was her shy smile that touched my soul. I figured the shrine part of the unit—the symmetrically arranged flowers and candles surrounding the picture—meant the girl was deceased. The alternative would be the girl was the subject of an obsessed stalker and that scenario was simply too horrid to contemplate.

The taller dresser contained clothes; I rummaged through the three drawers one by one. The bottom drawer held three pairs of blue jeans, four pairs of dressy trousers and several pretty blouses. The middle drawer held tee shirts and a couple of UNLV sweatshirts—size small—indicating the girl had attended the University of Nevada–Las Vegas. Was I a shrewd detective or what? I knew the campus was located in nearby Paradise, a suburb of Las Vegas about a half hour away. Socks and underwear lay jumbled together in the last drawer. The smaller dresser contained a mish-mosh of more personal items. A tiny jewelry box held two rings, five bracelets and a necklace. A purse and some scarves lay on top of several stuffed animals. I lifted out two newspaper-wrapped objects and carefully removed each one from their trappings to reveal a cute monkey piggybank and a lovely Hummel figurine. So sad to see this girl’s precious possessions packed away. In the final drawer, I discovered several journals—their covers a rainbow of colors. Property of Brenda W. was written inside each of them, in fancy script. Sitting down, I opened the purple notebook to a random page.

March 19th—Gypsy and I went to a St. Patrick Day party at Scrubs’ place. She’d hung tiny leprechauns on the walls and served green beer. Hero and Charlie showed up wearing green face-paint. They looked really goofy. We had so much fun.

April 8th—Hero, Friday and I went to a party. Each and every one of the rest of our circle was busy. Hero’s a great guy and I’m not blind—I see the way he looks at me, but I think of him as the big brother I never had. Stormy would be upset if he heard that, but Stormy treats me more like he’s my dad rather than my brother. We met another friend of Gypsy’s at the party. I’m going to call him Brainy. He’s tall and dark and a good dancer, but he didn’t talk to me for long; he wanted to hang out with Friday. Is there something wrong with me? Maybe I come across as too needy. I don’t know why—I’m still young. Maybe I’m not pretty enough. If I dye my hair blonde, maybe the boys will notice me.

I flipped through more pages, glimpsing snippets of a young girl’s life.

June 4th—Today my workplace threw a picnic. A hundred people gathered at the park. There’s this one guy I like in the HR department. I think he’s cute but kind of quiet. I knew he was coming to the picnic, but he brought a girlfriend, so I guess I’ll have to keep looking.

June 26th—Scrubs and I walked over to Aladdin’s Casino and played blackjack. I’d never been inside a casino before—living with Stormy and all—so it was a totally new experience for me. Scrubs taught me how to play the game, and I ended up winning more than two hundred dollars! Beginner’s luck. She didn’t fare as well. Scrubs dropped fifty bucks at the table. But she claimed it was a nice way to spend a rainy afternoon, as long as you stopped before you got too caught up in the game and lost a bundle of money. Stormy would have a conniption if he knew I was gambling, so I’m not going to tell him.

July 4th—I’ve never been to so many parties. Life with Stormy was uneventful—school, homework and housework. There wasn’t a lot of time left over for any kind of fun stuff. Stormy doesn’t like my new-found social life, so I’ve stopped sharing all the details with him. He gets upset if I party too much—tells me I should get plenty of sleep so that I’m rested and fit for work. Puhlease—all my friends are doing the same thing, and we’re all handling it fine. Stormy worries too much—he should be having his own fun and find someone to share his life with. He needs a wife to lighten his mood and a couple of kids to worry about. Truth be told—I don’t know if his kids would have any fun with Stormy as their dad—he’s way too serious all the time. Children need laughter in their life, and I seriously doubt Stormy is capable of that.

August 2nd—Today is Gypsy’s birthday. So guess what that means—time for another party! I’d never admit it to Stormy, but I’m beginning to tire of all this socializing. It’s been a bunch of fun, but I’m starting to get a bit down on myself for not attracting any men. It’s weird. I’ve met so many different people since moving in with Gypsy but nobody worthwhile yet. Is he out there? Am I not going to the right places? I don’t know what the problem is…

I closed the journal and ran my hand lightly over the cover. The diary entries made me long for my own daughter. I’d definitely call Catalina later. Clutching the journals, I told Tanya I’d like to read through them. She frowned, but gave me her blessing, so I took them home with me.

***

There was a note from Tanya and Ian’s daughter, Grace, propped up on the kitchen counter. She’d gone over to a friend’s house to do homework. I smiled. After moving in less than two months ago, eleven-year-old Grace had quickly made friends. Tanya and Ian’s place had burned to the ground in late September. I’d been rattling around inside my big house for a couple of months. My daughter—and only child—had moved to England to attend school. Since my husband unexpectedly passed away eight years ago, Catalina was all I’d had left. After Joe died, I threw myself into work as a card dealer for one of the big casinos to support us. Ian had been a close friend of my husband. He stepped in and became a wonderful father figure. And Tanya had become a second mother. I’d rather have kept Joe, but since I didn’t get a say in the matter——Tanya and Ian were wonderful substitutes. After Catalina flew across the pond, I’d been passed over for a promotion at work—again. In a rare fit of anger, I’d quit.

With Catalina gone and nothing to occupy my time, I’d become restless and lonely. So when misfortune hit the family who’d helped me through the bad times after Joe died, I figured it was my turn to reach out. I’d insisted they all move in with me, and the five of us—Tanya, Ian, their two daughters and I—had quickly settled into a daily routine.

It was wonderful having a child in the house again. There was certainly plenty of room. Joe had insisted we buy a huge house for the half dozen children he wanted. When Catalina was three years old and we’d believed I was pregnant again, we’d moved to a relatively new two-story, stucco house across the street from Anthem Hills Park. It’d turned out to be a false alarm and for some reason, Catalina had remained an only child, so the three of us had rambled around in the four bedroom house. Now the four newcomers added laughter and warmth to the place. Although they said they were looking for a new place, I didn’t want them to leave and told them so. Frequently.

Sitting on the sofa, I opened the yellow notebook to the first page and started reading.

December 1st–—Today’s the day I start my life. I’ve moved into a new place, started a brand new job, and I’m ready for adventure. Time to live life! Time for new experiences!

December 6th—Today was St. Nicholas Day. I’d told Gypsy that the Christmas season was my favorite time of year, and she left Hershey kisses in my shoes by the door. I was so touched. Gypsy is a great roommate, and I’m so glad that Stormy didn’t pitch too big a fit when I moved in with her. After Mom and Dad died, Stormy took care of me. So six years later when I found a job and wanted to move out, it was hard for Stormy to let go. He’s my big brother, but I felt overwhelmed in his shadow. Now that I landed a good job, I can afford to pay rent and it’s great to live with another girl. I never had a sister. Gypsy and Friday and Scrubs are great friends. We’re all going Christmas shopping together tomorrow. I’m planning on buying presents for the entire gang. Gypsy is going to throw a party the day after Christmas and we’ll all celebrate together. I can’t wait. The only thing that would make it better would be if I had a boyfriend. But it’s early days yet. Stormy chased away every boy I dated in high school. He even picked out my prom date. Ridiculous! Maybe I’ll