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Pickled...Then Potted All that remains of Lula Mae Wiggins-who drowned in a bathtub of cheap champagne on New Year's Eve-now sits in an alleged Etruscan urn in Savannah, Georgia. Further north, at the Den of Antiquity antique shop in Charlotte, North Carolina, plucky proprietor Abigail Timberlake is astonished to learn that she is the sole inheitor of the Wiggins estate. Late Aunt Lula Mae was, after all, as distant a relative as kin can get. Arriving in picturesque Savannah, Abby makes a couple of startling discoveries. First, that Lula Mae's final resting pot is more American cheap than Italian antique. And second, that there was a very valuable 1793 one-cent piece taped to the inside lid. Perhaps a coin collection worth millions is hidden among the deceased's worldly possessions-making Lula's passoing more suspicious than orginally surmised. With the strange appearance of a voodoo preistess coupled with the disturbing disappearance of a loved one-and with nasty family skeletons tumbling from the trees like acorns-Abby needs to find her penny auntie's killer p.d.q...or she'll be up to her ashes in serious trouble!
E-Book Content
A Den of Antiquity Mystery
TAMAR MYERS
For Susan and Jack Timberlake
Contents 1 Lula Mae Wiggins drowned in a bathtub filled with champagne.
1
2 Dmitri is my cat, not my boyfriend. Greg Washburn is…
9
3 C.J. and Wynnell declined to accompany me to Velvet Paws.
19
4 “Well, it’s about time,” the woman said.
31
5 My plan was to grab a toasted bagel in the…
40
6 I dug my nails into the base of Mama’s neck.
49
7 I took the bag and spread it on the desk….
59
8 “Excuse me?”
69
9 Mama and I stared at the empty box. Harriete with…
81
10 “Oh, Abby,” Mama wailed, “what have you done this time?”
92
11 The woman standing in the doorway stared back. She was…
103
12 “Mama?”
116
13 Ashley shook her head when I walked into the lobby,…
126
14 Before me lay a scene of utter devastation. The pearl…
140
15 “What bad news?”
151
16 “Diamond!”
159
17 “Oh, Abby, you’re awake!”
170
18 “C.J.!”
184
19 “Ooh, Abby, you’ve got yourself a black cousin.”
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20 “I can believe my eyes, all right,” I growled. “That…
205
21 Ashley Hawkins descended on us like—well, like a hawk. She…
218
22 C.J. was mad enough to chew nails and spit rivets.
228
23 “You’re kidding!”
238
24 My tiny feet took me on a detour to the…
246
25 I’m sure you’ll think I’m exaggerating when I tell you…
253
26 “So, Abby,” Wynnell said, picking up the last pea with…
260
About the Author Other Books by Tamar Myers Cover Copyright About the Publisher
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L
ula Mae Wiggins drowned in a bathtub filled with champagne. She was fully clothed. It happened on New Year’s Eve. Though someone had sent me a letter, I wasn’t informed of her death until a full three months had passed, thanks to my ex-husband, who returns all my mail unopened. Fortunately the delay was no cause for added grief. Lula Mae was my daddy’s second cousin, or something like that, and had never been a part of my life. Frankly, her name didn’t even ring a bell. “It was cheap champagne,” Mama said that day we got the fateful call from Savannah. “The kind you kind buy from Food Lion for $3.75 a bottle.” “How do you know?” I asked. We were playing Hearts with Wynnell and C.J., two of my closest friends and coworkers. I had just been passed the queen of spades and was trying to maintain my cool. Mama grinne