The car’s new owner had backed the Packard out of the barn and was a half a mile down the road before Timmons finally looked toward the attorney. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and frustration.
“You outbid that young man by two hundred dollars. Did you suddenly get cold feet? Are you now believing the sedan is cursed?”
“No,” he quickly assured her. “Not even his tumble got me to believe any such thing.”
“Give me a hand closing these doors,” she moaned, her displeasure evident in her tone.
After the pair had pulled the large wooden doors shut and latched them, she poked a finger into Johns’s stomach. “You and your urging bidders to be generous! You cost that children’s home some money today, and I doubt Abigale would have liked that. She told me two weeks ago that when it came the time for me to sell her estate I was to squeeze every nickel out of each sale. There are a lot of nickels in that two hundred dollars you just cost me!”
He smiled, pushed her finger back from his gut, reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a money clip. As she looked on, Johns peeled off eleven twenties from the roll and handed it to the woman.
“You gave me one too many,” she noted.
“Consider it a donation to the cause. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m either superstitious or cheap.”
After stuffing the cash into her front dress pocket, she said, “I don’t understand. You wanted that car.”
“Yeah, I wanted it, but I didn’t need it. The young man did. Sometimes needs are a lot more important than wants.”
“Sam, you sound like your wife has been dragging you to church again. But I’m sure I haven’t seen you there. I can’t even remember the last time you darkened those doors.”
“No,” he laughed, “and I figure the next time I’ll see the inside of a church will be at my funeral. But that doesn’t mean I don’t read the Bible.”
“Well, Mr. Johns, that might surprise me even more than your paying for that young man to win the auction.”
“It is what Abbi would have wanted,” he modestly replied. “Most days I look in that mirror, I don’t like what I see. I let Abbi down. But today I feel a little better about who I am.”
She ran her right hand through her red hair. “Now I’m really lost.”
“So am I,” Janet Carson said, walking up to join the conversation.
“That red skirt looks great on you,” Timmons noted. “And that green blouse, wow, I wish I was still young enough to fit into something that small.”
Johns shook his head in agreement. “Janet, you always look nice.”
“Thank you both. I try not to look like the old maid teacher I am!”
“You aren’t anywhere old enough to be considered that,” the man shot back.
“But the clock is ticking.” The younger woman laughed. “Now what’s this about a mirror?”
“We made a lot of money for the children’s home today,” Timmons said. “And there will be more to come with the auction of the jewelry and art.”
“I’ve noted that,” the schoolteacher assured her, “but it was your comment that has me a bit confused.” She looked at Johns.
Both women studied the lawyer as he stuck his hands deep into his pants pocket and shrugged. “Here’s the deal. Whenever I read the parables I always feel like Christ is talking directly to me. It’s like I’m looking at my own life through His words. Today I felt like the man who had everything, and I was looking at another man who needed what I had. Without reading the Bible, I don’t think I would have made the decision I made. It is like seeing yourself in the mirror and having that image remind you that you need to change something about yourself. Now let’s cut this Sunday school talk off before I regret not buying that car.”
“I’ve got the money for the Packard,” Timmons said, shaking her head. “It is young Mr. Hall’s car now, heaven help him. I should get back to work anyway. If you want me, I’ll be in my office making sure I have all I need for the next part of the auction. And, Sam!”
“Yes, Janie.”
“There is a mirror that hasn’t sold yet that you might want to buy.”
After the chuckling businesswoman had made her way to the far side of the barn, Janet lowered her voice and whispered, “So have you and Sheriff Atkins found out anything?”
“No,” he said, disappointment in his gloomy tone. “No big spending going on. At least not yet. I promise you this; we’ll solve this thing. It might take years, but somehow justice will be served.”
“Thanks. I have faith in you. My bus takes off in about an hour. But I couldn’t leave without saying thanks for all you did for my aunt.”
“I was paid well for my trouble,” he assured her, “but I’d have done it for nothing. And from here on in, everything is off the books.”
“She trusted you,” Janet assured him, “and I think she knows you’re still taking care of things the way she’d wanted.”
“I hope so.” He grimly sighed.
Janet turned back toward the barn’s main room. Excited patrons were carrying the treasures they’d won out to their cars and trucks.
“Kind of sad to see her stuff spread out in a hundred different directions,” Johns said. “It took her a lifetime to bring it all together.”
Janet shook her head. “I kind of think she’d be happy that so many were blessed with things they’d always dreamed of having. It’s like a little piece of her will now be in half the homes in the area.”
“With as many people as she helped,” Johns corrected the young woman, “a big part of her was there long before anyone purchased a piece of her furniture.”
The schoolteacher turned to face him, her right eyebrow arched. “Guess helping others was her legacy. That’s something to shoot for in my own life.”
Johns nodded. Abbi’s touch was all over the area. She had given away not just her money; time and time again she had given her heart. Everyone in the town was better for having known her. That was what made his suspicions about her death even more difficult to swallow. This wonderful, caring woman, as eccentric as she was, deserved a better final chapter than the one now written for her. He only prayed he could be a part of making sure when the life’s book was finally completed the biggest mystery would somehow be solved, but for the moment he had nothing new to hang those hopes on.