Drew Butterick was settingout the last six-foot plastic table for his yard sale when the police arrived. He gave the car a cursory glance as it parked at the curb and went back to work. He kicked out the black metal legs from the table and then gave the table a shake to make sure it was steady on the driveway. His wife came out from the two-car garage bay carrying an armload of neatly folded clothes that she had designated as suitable for selling. Her steps faltered the moment she saw the cop car.
“Nothin’ to worry about, Lisa.” He approached her, took half the clothes, and set them on the table. “Go on about your business. I got this.”
“What have you done?”
“Igotthis,” he said. “Put the clothes down and go back in the house.” She was a full head shorter than he was, a petite stick of dynamite, he’d always thought, with a fuse that was way too short. He was pretty sure he’d already lit it because she was in full suspicious mode and the cops were only now getting out of the car. When he bent to kiss her on the cheek, her head reared back, she thrust what was left of her armload at him and marched back into the garage.
Drew placed the clothes on the table before he looked up to greet his visitors. He squinted against the early morning sun to make out their faces. “Is that you, Sully?”
“Morning, Drew,” Sullivan said. “Do you know Officer Conglose?”
“Buddy. Sure. I know Buddy.”
Buddy smiled thinly. “It’s been a while, Drew.”
“It has. Keepin’ my nose clean as they say.” He made an expansive gesture with one arm to indicate the array of toys, kitchen gadgets, country kitsch, tools, fishing rods, and clothes. “Lisa’s been after me for a while to help her set up a yard sale.”
“Good day for it,” said Sullivan, looking around. “Are we the first to show up?”
“Yeah. If you’re customers, you are. What are you interested in? I got more stuff in the garage.”
“You mind if I go in?”
“Nah.” Drew turned to Buddy as Sullivan walked off. “Crime keeping you busy, Buddy?”
“No more than usual. What about you?” And in the event that Drew missed his point, Buddy said, “Crime keeping you busy?”
Drew didn’t take offense. He grinned. “Those days are behind me. Ask Lisa. I got me a job that pays decent.”
“Oh?”
“Working construction. Full-time. And picking up some odd jobs now and again as word gets around that I’m a reliable sort.”
“That’s real good to hear, Drew. You ever do any handyman work for Oliver Mansfield?”
“Mansfield.” Deep in thought now, Drew’s forehead creased with as many wrinkles as a Shar Pei. He finally shook his head. “I don’t recall that name. Why? Someone say I did?”
Buddy was about to reply when Sullivan stepped out the garage and waved him over. “Excuse me. Sullivan wants me.”
“Sure.” Drew turned, saw Sullivan gesturing to Buddy, and waited until both men were deep in the garage before he jogged down the driveway to the street where his car was parked. He was inside it, fumbling with the key in the ignition, when there was a hard tap on the driver’s side window. “Careful you don’t break it,” he shouted. “I’ll sue.”
Buddy slipped his baton back on his belt. “Better the window than your head. C’mon. Get out.”
Drew was considering his options when Sullivan opened the passenger door and let himself in. It was a little comical seeing him trying to squeeze his long legs into the seat set for Lisa’s short ones, but Drew didn’t crack a smile, and Sullivan found the release bar and pushed the seat back as far as it would go.
“That’s better,” he said easily. “For a minute there I thought I was trapped in a clown car.” He looked over at Drew, frowned. “Maybe I still am. Where were you off to?”
“Dollar Store. I need some more tags.”
“Those will have to wait. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m guessing maybe that’s so.”
“Go on. Get out. Your wife’s watching from the front window.”
Drew twisted so he could see. Sure enough, Lisa was looking out. “Damn.”
“Uh-huh. Keys, please.” Sullivan fisted the keys and exited the car at the same time Drew did. He and Buddy escorted Drew to the garage where four unopened boxes indicating Samsung Ultra 4K TVs were inside propped against the back wall.
