Nobody moved, but there was a ripple of laughter from the audience.
“All right. Looking for three million for oceanfront acreage. I said three, but I’d prefer four.” Four hands shot up. Riley recognized Nate’s silhouette and his raised paddle.
“Now four. Good. Five is better.” One bidder dropped out, but three paddles stayed in the air. The bidders were Nate, a silver-haired man with a leather-wrapped ponytail and extravagant signet ring, and a man who looked to be Middle Eastern.
“Now six. I have six. Seven? Who’ll give me seven million for a piece of paradise over there on Belle Isle?”
Ponytail man shook his head regretfully and lowered his paddle. Nate and the other bidder hung tight. The auctioneer acknowledged them with a nod.
“Go eight. We’re talking prime oceanfront commercial property. I need eight.”
“Seven-five,” Nate called.
The Middle Eastern man shrugged and lowered his paddle, and the auctioneer hammered Nate’s bid down at seven point five million.
Colonel Fowlkes beamed. “That’s a great buy, buddy. Seven point five million, sold to number eight twenty-three.”
The rest of the island parcels sold quickly, and though the signet-ring man and the Middle Easterner bid vigorously, Nate managed to win the next three properties.
Riley had been keeping score, scribbling his purchase prices on her paddle, and by her estimate, Nate’s buying spree had already cost him sixteen million, with the Holtzclaw property up next.
Now the colonel went into overdrive. “Friends, this next lot has no equal in this state, maybe the whole coast. I’m talking about the Holtzclaw property, a pristine fifty-acre parcel with a one-hundred-year-old farmstead, barn, and the best part, a thousand feet of prime, deep-water frontage on Fiddler’s Creek, a fifteen-minute boat ride from the ocean. I don’t need to tell you how rarely something like this comes on the market, but I’m gonna anyway. Minimum bid is six million.”
Bidders who’d stayed on the sidelines earlier suddenly came awake. “All right then, who’s gonna steal this for six million?” the colonel yelled. Eight or nine paddles shot up.
“Let’s go six. Now seven. Now eight. You betcha. Eight is chump change for a property like this.”
Three bidders stayed in; Nate, ponytail man, and a woman Riley hadn’t noticed before, with a long mane of dark hair and an armful of jangly gold bracelets.
“I need nine million. And that’s peanuts, y’all. This land is appraised at sixteen million, without any improvements at all.”
“Nine,” Nate called. The other bidders dropped out.
“Sold to number eight twenty-three,” the auctioneer announced.
Riley added Nate’s latest purchase to his total, a breathtaking twenty-five million.
The next three parcels were small zero-lot-line lots scattered around the village, and Nate stayed out of the bidding, allowing the dark-haired woman to scoop them up for less than ten thousand apiece.
Riley scarcely paid attention to the bidding. Her palms were starting to sweat because the next lot up was her own house.
The colonel put an enlarged real estate listing photo of the house on his easel.
“This is a one-of-a-kind home, mid-island, oceanfront. Custom-built for an executive of Belle Isle Enterprises, designed by a fancy New York architect whose name I can’t pronounce. Now, friends, you’ve seen the catalog description, but that doesn’t do this home justice. This is easily a two-million-dollar home on the very desirable Sand Dollar Lane, but we’re going to start crazy low at four hundred.”
“Dollars?” a man with a sweat-stained tractor cap called, earning a round of laughter.
“Hey, buddy,” the colonel called. “I do the jokes here. It’s four hundred thousand, American dollars. Who’s gonna start us out?”
Riley looked around, and to her dismay, eight paddles popped up. Hers was the last to be raised.
“I see you guys know value,” the colonel said. “Four ten. Now four fifteen. Now four twenty, now four twenty-five.” Three or four paddles dropped out, but there were still three other bidders besides Riley, whose heart was racing.
“Four thirty. Four forty, four forty-five,” he called. “Who’ll stay with me at four fifty?”
One bidder shook her head and lowered her paddle.
The colonel had hit his stride. “Four fifty-five, now four sixty, four sixty-five, now four seventy, and seventy-five…”
Riley was afraid she might hyperventilate. Every muscle in her body was tensed. Roo’s check was for exactly five hundred and fifty thousand—but with the buyer’s premium tacked on, she could only go as high as five hundred.
“I’ve got four eighty, gimme four eighty-five, now four ninety.” Riley’s eyes were riveted to the competition–the dark-haired woman and an older man with a large bald spot on the back of his head.
“Drop out, drop out, drop out,” she whispered. “Please drop out.”
“Four ninety-five,” the auctioneer called. But the other paddles stayed in the air. “Five hundred,” the auctioneer shouted, “now five-oh-five.”
Riley left her paddle on the chair and fled the room. She couldn’t bear to see who would win her house away from her.
41
Ed Godchaux’s face lit up when he saw Riley trudge onto the upper deck of the ferry.
“Riley!” he called, patting the bench beside him. “What were you doing in town?”
She took a seat beside her best friend’s husband, and her mood lifted—infinitesimally. “Parrish didn’t tell you?”
“We’ve been missing each other all day. What’s going on?”
Before Riley could answer, they heard a familiar voice.
“Riley, Ed! The gang’s all here.”
Scott dropped down on the bench beside them, and the five-minute horn blasted. “Whew! Made it in the nick of time.”
“Doing some shopping in town?” Scott asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” Riley said. “Unfortunately, I’m coming home empty-handed.”
“What were you looking for?” Ed asked.
“My house.”
“Oh, shit,” Scott said. “The auction. Was that today?”
“Afraid so,” Riley said.
Scott snapped his fingers. “That’s right. Billy told me Roo stepped in with an amazing contribution. But no go?”
“Nope. I had to drop out when the bidding reached five hundred thousand, because there was a ten percent buyer’s premium.”
“How much did it end up selling for?” Ed asked.
The ferry’s horn blasted again, and they moved slowly away from the dock. Riley glanced discreetly around and was thankful not to see Nate. He was probably still back at the auction, buying up every last square inch of the island.
“I don’t know. After I’d reached my limit and there were still two others bidding, I didn’t have the heart to stick around. All I knew was I didn’t have enough.”
“God, honey, I’m sorry,” Scott said. “I know you’re heartbroken. Again.”
She shrugged. “I don’t mind so much for myself. But Maggy had her heart set on it. She thinks of that house as the embodiment of her dad. We had a talk this morning, and I did warn her that I might not be successful, but I just don’t know how she’ll take the news.”