Trifles and Folly by Gail Z. Martin

Author:Gail Z. Martin [Martin, Gail Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Short Stories, Urban
Amazon: B01M3S430N
Publisher: DreamSpinner Communications
Published: 2016-10-17T23:00:00+00:00

Collector

“I’d like Trifles and Folly to handle the auction for my Aunt Dorothy’s estate,” the caller said. “I’ve heard you’re very good at specialized collections.”

My gut screamed at me to hang up the phone right then. I somehow knew it would save me a world of trouble, death, and new nightmares. But that’s what I do.

So, of course I said yes.

“I’ll be happy to take a look at your aunt’s collections,” I replied. “Once I know what we’re dealing with, I can give you an estimate for the auction and appraisal services.” I wrote down the address as the woman on the phone repeated it.

“How soon can you be here?” Her voice had an odd urgency to it.

I checked my watch. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the store was quiet. My assistant store manager, Teag Logan, could come along since Maggie, our part-time helper, was working today. She’d worked at Trifles and Follies longer than I had. “I can be there in about half an hour.”

“And if you agree to handle the auction, how quickly could you have the items out of the house?” the woman pressed. That was definitely unusual.

“I should be able to give you an idea of timing once I see what you have,” I replied. “Oh, and you haven’t told me your name!” This was definitely one of my stranger phone calls.

“Abby Sondergran,” the woman replied. “I’ll be watching for you.” She hung up, leaving me staring at my phone, perplexed. All my instincts told me that this phone call was the beginning of big problems.

I’m Cassidy Kincaide, owner of Trifles and Folly, an antique and curio shop in beautiful, haunted Charleston, SC. Since the store has been around since the city was founded over 350 years ago, lots of people think of us first for estate sales, antique auctions and selling the family silver. We’re good at all those things, but we’ve also got our secrets. The big one is that we’re not what we seem to be. Sure, we sell fancy trinkets, but our real purpose is to get dangerous magical items off the market and out of the wrong hands. When we succeed, life goes on as usual. And when we screw up, the death toll usually gets blamed on a natural disaster.

I’m the second secret. I’m a psychometric—someone who can read the history of objects by touching them. Not every object, or I’d go stark, raving mad. But if there’s a lot of emotion connected to an object, or it’s just downright evil, haunted, or demon-possessed, I can tell by touching it. My business partner, Sorren, is a nearly six hundred year-old vampire who runs the Alliance, an effort by mortals and immortals to get dangerous magical items out of the wrong hands. Needless to say, my vampire boss and our ties to the Alliance are just a few more of our secrets.

Teag walked into the office and tilted his head to one side like a beagle listening for a dog whistle.

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