Antiques Disposal by Barbara Allan Page A

on Peggy Sue are so encouraging,” he said, businesslike but not without warmth. “How’s Sushi?”
    â€œShe dodged a bullet, too. The vet says she can come home tomorrow.”
    â€œDr. Tillie?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œGood man. If he ever retires, Serenity will be the lesser for it.”
    â€œNo question.”
    His expression turned serious. “We interviewed Peggy Sue earlier this morning, when she first came around, and apparently she didn’t see who hit her.”
    â€œYou think she was hit from behind?”
    â€œYes. That means whoever did it realizes Peggy Sue didn’t see him, or her. So ... with any luck, your sister isn’t in any danger of retaliation.” He paused, adding, “Still, we’ll keep an officer at the hospital until she’s released.”
    â€œThanks. Maybe a car outside the house, too, for a day or so?”
    â€œWe can manage that.”
    â€œI realize Peg probably poses no threat to the assailant, but thank you for the added protection.”
    He nodded.
    I shifted in the chair. I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. Was it simply being in Tony’s old office ... or because Brian and I had once been an item? And yes, before Mother asks, I will tell you right out—we had been intimate.
    He was saying, “Brandy, you have to promise me you’ll stay out of this matter. None of this silly Murder, She Wrote stuff from you or Vivian.”
    I didn’t answer immediately. If Mother had been here, she’d have been defensive, reminding Brian that we had helped clear up a number of matters that the Serenity PD otherwise might have fumbled.
    But I merely said, “I can try, Brian ... but I can’t promise. You know Mother.”
    He cocked his head, and a lock of sandy hair fell across his brow. He was a cutie-pie. Sorry if that makes you sick, a woman my age thinking about a man in such childish terms. But he was. A cutie-pie.
    â€œYou mean,” he said delicately, “because your mother will get you involved whether you want her to or not?”
    In the past I would have said, “Or whether you want her to or not ... but I’ll try.”
    But instead I replied, “Brian, someone almost killed Peggy Sue, and Sushi. Which Jaws movie was it?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhere the poster said, ‘This time, it’s personal’? Well, this time, I’m afraid it is. Personal.”
    Brian’s puppy dog eyes tightened into a pit bull’s, and he leaned forward. He shook a finger. “Listen, Brandy, you just stay out of it. Whoever killed Jim Bob, and broke into your home, is obviously a very, very dangerous person.”
    All I could manage was “Yeah, well.”
    â€œYou and your mother have been so damn lucky in the past, not getting yourselves killed, meddling in police business.”
    Now I cocked my head, ignoring being called a meddler, instead thinking about what he’d said before. “Sounds like you think the events were connected. Almost like ... Brian, do you already know who it was?”
    He held up a crossing-guard palm. “I don’t know who it was... .”
    â€œBrian ...”
    â€œBut ... I do know the kind of company Jim Bob Mc-Roberts kept, back in Texas, before he returned to Serenity.”
    â€œWhat kind of company is that?”
    He shrugged. “What do you think? Bad company.”
    â€œMaybe a little more specific?”
    Now a sigh. “Drug dealers, petty thieves, ex-convicts... .”
    â€œSo ... something from his past came home to roost?”
    I took Brian’s silence as a yes.
    â€œBut what would the killing have to do with our break-in?” I frowned. “There has to be a connection... .”
    â€œDoes there?”
    I leaned forward. “Maybe the killer thought we’d seen something the morning of the auction—something that meant we could later identify him.”
    Brian winced.