to buy items you'd like to get rid of, or you can place them in my shop on consignment if you'd prefer."
Elizabeth Sarkoff sighed heavily and hung her head. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take advantage."
"It would be my pleasure," he said.
Mrs. Sarkoff swung the door wide. "Thank God you showed up, Mr. Asher. I just spent an hour trying to figure out which set of elephant salt-and-pepper shakers to keep and which to throw away. She has ten pairs! Ten! Please come in."
Charlie sauntered through the door feeling very proud of himself. Six hours later, when he was waist deep in porcelain-cow figurines, and he still hadn't located the soul vessel, he lost all sense of accomplishment.
"So she had a special connection to Holsteins?" Charlie called to Mrs. Sarkoff, who was in the next room, inside a walk-in closet, sorting through yet another huge pile of collectible crap.
"No, I don't think so. Lived her whole life here in the City. I'm not sure if she ever saw a cow outside of those talking ones that sell cheese on TV."
"Swell," Charlie said. He'd been through every inch of the house except the closet where Elizabeth Sarkoff was working and he hadn't found the soul vessel. He'd peeked into the closet a couple of times, taking a fast inventory of the contents, and didn't see anything glowing red. He was starting to suspect that either he was too late, and the Underworlders had gotten the soul vessel, or it had been buried with Esther Johnson.
He was heading down toward the basement again when his cell phone rang.
"Charlie Asher's phone," Charlie said.
"Charlie, it's Cassie. Sophie wants to know if you're going to come home in time to tell her a story and tuck her in. I gave her dinner and her bath."
Charlie ran up the stairs and looked out the front windows. It had gotten dark and he hadn't even noticed. "Crap, Cassie, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was so late. I'm with an estate client. Tell her I'll be home to tuck her in."
"Okay, I will," Cassandra said, sounding exhausted. "And, Charlie, you can clean up the bathroom floor. You've got to do something about those dogs getting in the tub with her. There are drifts of Mr. Bubble suds all over your apartment."
"They do enjoy their bath."
"That's cute, Charlie. If I didn't love your sister I'd hire someone to break your legs."
"My mom just died, Cassie."
"You're playing the dead-mom card? Now? Charlie Asher, you - "
"Gotta go," Charlie said. "Be home soon." Charlie pushed the disconnect button four times, then one more time, just to be sure. Cassandra had been such a sweet woman, only days ago. What happened to people?
Charlie bounded into the bedroom. "Mrs. Sarkoff?"
"Yes, still in here," came a voice from the closet.
"I'm going to have to be going. My daughter needs me."
"I hope everything is all right."
"Yes, not an emergency, I've just been gone for a couple of days. Look, if you need any more help - "
"No, I wouldn't think of it. Why don't you give me a few days to sort things out and I'll bring some items by your shop."
"I don't mind, really." Charlie felt silly yelling to someone who was in a closet.
"No, I'll be in touch, I promise."
Charlie couldn't think of any way of pressing the situation right now, and he needed to get home.
"Okay, then. I'll be going."
"Thank you, Mr. Asher. You've been a lifesaver."
"You're welcome. Bye." Charlie let himself out and the front door locked behind him with a click. He could hear stirring below the street - the rustling of feathers, the distant calls of ravens - as he made his way back to where he had parked his van. And when he got there, of course, it had been towed.
When she heard the front door lock, Audrey went to the back of the closet and moved the big cardboard wardrobe box aside to reveal an elderly woman who was sitting calmly in a folding lawn chair, knitting.
"He's gone, Esther. You can come out now."
"Well, help me up, dear, I think I'm stuck like this," Esther said.
"I'm sorry," Audrey said. "I had no idea he'd stay that long."
"I don't understand why you let him in in the first place," Esther said, creaky but on her feet now.
"So he could satisfy his curiosity. See for himself."
"And where did you get that Elizabeth Sarkoff name?"
"My second-grade teacher. It was the first thing I could think of."