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invoice. “All the stuff you wanted for the shop has been brought inside.”
    Victoria set the birdcage on top of an old marble-topped plant stand, took the bill and signed.
    The most valuable items, including Louis VXI furniture, Impressionist paintings, and Lydia Van Orr’s renowned doll collection had been moved to the shop two weeks earlier in a security van, appraised, and either displayed in locked showcases or brought to the Carlson warehouse in anticipation of private sales. Victoria had assisted with the first phase of her consignment, but would begin her full-time commitment to the shop with this final move.
    “ Oooh , a cockatiel.” Beverly cooed and wagged a finger at the orange and white bird. “What’s his name?”
    “Pirate.”
    Beverly chuckled. “Cute.”
    “I hope you don’t mind that I brought him along. He gets lonely at home by himself.”
    “He’ll be a hoot.” Beverly snorted at the pun. “The customers will enjoy him, and so will we.” She wiggled her finger again. “Does he bite?”
    “Not so far, but I’d be careful with that finger if I were you.”
    Beverly laughed good-naturedly. “Wouldn’t be the first time I poked where I shouldn’t have.” She cackled at her own joke.
    Pirate squawked. “Hey, sexy lady.”
    Victoria smiled. “James taught him that. Pirate was a first-anniversary gift from my late husband.”
    Beverly threw kisses at the bird. “He made my day.” She turned back to Victoria. “I think I’m gonna like having you here, Vic.” The woman’s stomach rumbled. “I’ve been reorganizing the store. I’ll show you around after we get some lunch.” She reached out to touch Victoria’s hand. “I’ll buy, you fly.”
    Beverly’s fingers lingered over the wide gold wedding band Victoria wore on her left hand. The antique ring was set with precious stones and engraved with detailed etchings. The older woman stared. “May I?”
    Victoria was aware of Beverly’s penchant for jewelry, but was reluctant to remove the band. Maybe she was being silly, but the antique ring was given to her on the most intimate night she’d ever shared with her husband, and she rarely took it off.
    James had presented the ring in bed, where they’d made love the night he’d signed the biggest deal of his life. They’d been married three years, enough time to settle into their marriage but early enough not to take one another for granted—and before his symptoms started. Before he began to go to bed early, too tired from the demands of his workday to make love.
    Beverly seemed to sense her trepidation. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s just… I’m getting a strong vibe from your wedding ring. I have this…ability.”
    Victoria was curious now. “Are you psychic?”
    “I like to think of myself as sensitive, though the official term for seeing the living history behind an object is called psychometrics . Since I was a girl, I’ve been able to touch things and visualize former events or the people surrounding them. I sense a mood or intuit bits of information about the previous owners. I was terrified by my visions at first, but gradually came to understand they’re part of what makes me who I am.” She fluttered a hand. “It’s hard to verify what I see, of course. Psychometrics isn’t science. Maybe my need for validation is what brought me to antiques restoration.”
    Beverly offered a tiny smile. “Restoration is exacting. The value of precious items can be destroyed if improperly handled. I research the history of rare and often delicate pieces, repair them, and uncover their original beauty. Restoration is the perfect outlet for my artistic nature and the process brings me tremendous peace. I’m a Gemini. Maybe that explains me, too.”
    Victoria smiled and took a closer look at Beverly Orange. She wasn’t the fluff-head she pretended to be. “What kind of things do you see when you have…visions?”
    “When I touched your ring, I felt a