Page 45

Surprised out of my stupor, I shake my head to clear it. "No. Not really." I'm still trying to wrap my head around what Engelmann told me.

She sits down in the chair next to me. "Who was that?" She nods toward the phone in my hand.

"The coin guy."

"The one you met tonight? He works fast." Her forehead creases. "Does he think you can sell enough to pay off the judgment on the property?"

I shake my head, still trying to process everything. "Yes, but he won't work with me until I talk to a property rights attorney with expertise in rare coin law."

She chews on that for a minute. "He thinks one of the coins was stolen."

I snap my head to look at her. "How do you figure?"How did she make that jump so quickly?

She shrugs apologetically. "My family's been working with one for decades. My parents have put tens of thousands of dollars into finding stolen property over the past thirty or forty years."

"What was stolen?" I ask curiously.

"Mostly mundane things. Some engraved silverware, my nonna's first wedding ring, a painting of the hills where she met my grandpa. Things that will never be found, because they're not remarkable to anyone but Nonna—but my parents will continueto look as long as she lives." She sighs, pressing a hand briefly to her heart before she reaches for mine with her other.

"Did you get things under control for work?"

She smiles weakly. "I talked to Cristine. She's the chief HR officer. She'll talk with Carole tomorrow. He won't be back."

"What about the gala next week?"

She shrugs dismissively. "Everything's already in place. Aimee can take care of any last minute issues." She chews on her cheek, her gaze distant. "I might consider promoting her—or at least recommending her to the board."

"Florence?" Marin sticks her head in the door.

Florence glances at the clock before she answers. "Marin," she says drily, a hint of amusement in her voice. "The Woodhouse situation is being dealt with. Can you do one more thing for me before you leave? Write down the contact number for the family property rights lawyer and my brother's numismatist for Dr. Meuller, please."

"Of course. Is there anything else I can—"

"Marin." Florence's voice is soft as she stands up. She crosses the room, placing her hands on the woman's shoulders and meeting her eyes. "You're worth your weight in gold to me. You know that."

Marin's eyes drop, but a smile tugs at her lips. "Yes, ma'am."

Florence lifts her chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. "You earn your keep here. Don't feel guilty when I give you a few free hours." When Marin opens her mouth to respond, Florence puts a finger over her lips. "Don't argue."

Marin's eyes flick to me before she nods, stepping back from Florence. "I'll get that contact information and leave it on the counter by Dr. Mueller's purse. You'll call me if you need anything."

Florence frowns. "Do we have fresh batteries?"

Marin's eyes widen. "Bottom drawer," she answers before retreating down the hallway.

"What do you need batteries for?" I ask curiously.

She blushes a deep pink. "Nothing." She waves off my question. "So your numismatist won't work with you. How long do you have to come up with the money for the judgment?"

"About seven months now."

"This problem, will it include all dealings with the auction house?"

I shake my head. "At the moment, no. He unofficially suggested that I put that coin away and work with someone who doesn't know about it, at least until the judgment is settled."

She frowns. "That's a little dishonest, don't you think?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. Not that I disagree, but— "Like this isn't?" I motion between us.