husband, and I always make him stop at the flea markets.”
“I brake for flea markets?” Daisy laughs. “I love it when that happens. Look at it, Spencer.”
“Yes, it’s a guitar.” I lift the lightweight instrument, turning it in my hands. The lack of scars on the body tells me it was owned by someone who didn’t play for long. “Dated 1962… Slab fingerboard. That’s the year they changed it, yes?”
“Do you play?” Daisy’s eyes are wide as she looks up at me.
“No, but the slab fingerboard makes it a very rare piece—and it’s in mint condition.”
“Are you ready?” Heather leans forward, nearly bursting with excitement.
“How much?” Daisy grabs her hands.
“Twenty grand!”
Daisy looks from Heather to me. “I don’t know what that means. Is it good?”
“It’s better than good.” My eyebrow arches. “Nice work, Olsen. You’ll easily get sixty for it at auction.”
“I know!” She throws up her hands, bouncing on her toes.
Daisy makes a whistling noise and the women high-five like two cheerleaders at a home game. I leave them celebrating to inspect the next item, a three-foot bronze sculpture of a young woman, topless in a flowing skirt.
“This is a gorgeous piece.” Turning it to the side, I see it’s an Edward Onslow Ford sculpture. “Date?”
“1887.”
Daisy joins me, gushing. “Just look at the movement in the skirt. So detailed, all the way down to the ruffles.”
“It’s distinctive of the artist.” I muse, stepping around the table.
“I brought this one just for you, Spence. I knew you’d love it. Found it at an estate sale—the woman’s grandmother had bought it in Germany in the forties.”
“How could someone part with this?” Daisy shakes her head.
My eyebrow arches. “How much?”
“Ten.” She waits, clasping her hands in front of her mouth as if she’s anticipating my surprise.
I give. “You’ll easily get twenty thousand at auction.”
She claps, crying, “I know!” again.
Lifting my chin, I nod. “Grafton is very lucky to have you.”
“What’s this? A compliment from the great Spencer Carrollton? Am I dreaming?” Her dark eyes dance, and I shake my head.
These girls.
Sorry, these women.
Antiques dealers should not squeal like kids in a candy store, they should be composed, dignified… Still, I like working with smart people, and these two are rising stars.
Daisy traces her finger over the signature etched into the base of the sculpture. “She’s so beautiful. I want her for myself.”
Resting the tip of her pinky finger in the dancer’s cupped hand, she tilts her head to the side, as if she’s pirouetting with the statue in her mind.
Heather watches her with a grin. “She’ll be in your shop until the auction. Maybe I can put a bug in someone’s ear.”
Our photographer steps around the items, taking pictures from every angle, and we continue on to a lighthouse clock under glass worth several thousand and a gorgeous Persian rug worth only a few.
Miles joins us to examine a pair of field binoculars Heather retrieved from a curbside trash bin. “Why didn’t we hire Heather, again?” He quips, frowning at me.
“You can’t hire her.” Daisy puts her arms around Heather’s waist. “If she leaves Grafton, she’s moving to Oceanside to help me run my store.”
He picks up a chunky ring with an oversized jade stone in the center and diamonds arranged in an art-deco-style along the black band. “Is this a Marsh? My God, Heather, where did you find it?”
“That is indeed a Marsh.” Heather’s expression is smug. “Can you believe it? They’re so rare, and a jade—the rarest of them all. It’s like a needle in a haystack.”
“Let me see.” Daisy takes the ring carefully. “Sly would love this.”
My ears perk up at that bit of information, but I hold my expression neutral.
“It’s missing one little baguette, but I have a fellow in New Hampshire I trust to repair it.”
“Ten thousand?” Daisy squints at Miles, who breaks into a proud smile.
“Your jewelry skills have improved. I think that’s right, yes?” He glances at Heather, who winks.
“I’m hoping to get at least fifteen if not twenty for it.”
“I bet you will.” My partner pats her on the back, and we continue going over the pieces she brought with her.
Another hour passes before Daisy says it’s time for her to go. She kisses my cheek, and Miles walks her out. I linger back with Heather.
“This Marsh piece.” Lifting the steel and jade ring, I study the polished stone. “What if I offered you twelve for it now?”
Her lips twist, and she squints one eye. “I had a feeling you might be interested when